by Keri Lake
“This man is the one who came for you?”
“He is.”
“And you’ve developed feelings for him.” It wasn’t a question, and I bowed my head to keep from having to look him in the eyes.
Dmitry had always considered love a weakness. A liability. And perhaps he was right, as I felt more vulnerable in that moment than I’d ever felt before.
“Please, Dmitry.” I spoke the words and mustered the courage to look at him. “Promise me you won’t hurt him.”
“You have my word.”
With a nod, I shuffled quickly out of the room and into the dark corridor of the boat house. The hard thunk of the front door shuddered through my muscles, and I padded toward the staircase beside me, ascending the stairs up to total darkness with careful steps.
Below me, Dax appeared, the barrel of his gun leading the way as he slinked along the wall toward the ballroom. His eyes scanned the place, but failed to lift high enough to see me.
My pulse quickened at the sight of him, and I took in what little I could see in the light that reached the threshold of the room, where he stood looking within. I hoped he wouldn’t shoot first and make the mistake of attacking Dmitry, whose guards would shoot him without the slightest hesitation.
For his sake, I knew he’d want to see Tesarik. He’d want to look him in the eye as he lay dying, to know that it was over. I knew he needed that closure, because I had once needed it, too. I’d left Dax with so little, so few answers, and I owed it to him. For all he’d done. All he’d risked. I owed him the satisfaction of knowing it was over.
He disappeared into the room, and I snuck back down the staircase, taking light steps toward the ballroom entrance. From the shadows, I watched him approach Tesarik with slow and easy steps, his back to me all the while.
Dmitry and his guards were nowhere in sight.
Tesarik had taken a sitting position, cradling his arm, and his laughter bounced around the room. When he lifted that disfigured chunk of meat up into the air, I had to slap a hand over my mouth to keep the nausea that slammed against the back of my throat from spilling onto the floor. Nothing but a mutilated stump of bone stuck out from his elbow, the skin hanging like draped fabric. “Perhaps now, we both regret … touching her.” More laughter echoed in the room.
Darkness stretched from the corner where I sat hidden, as Dmitry stalked toward Dax and held a gun to the back of his head.
Branches of horror coiled around my spine, watching Dax’s shoulders roll back, his weaponless hand balled into a tight fist at his side, as though ready to fight.
Anger ripped through me, tearing into my muscles.
“Do you?” Dmitry asked, his hand steady on the gun.
Tears welled in my eyes as I waited for Dax’s response, and when he answered, “No,” I blinked and they skated down my cheeks. My whole body trembled, anticipating Dmitry’s next move, knowing if I rushed in to stop him, there’d be no going back.
Dax would never let me go again. That much I knew for certain.
Dmitry lowered the gun, and I blew out a shaky breath, a wave of dizziness sweeping over me, and I clutched the doorjamb for balance.
“Dmitry?” Dax asked, kicking his head to the side as Dmitry circled around him.
“You’re welcome to finish him off.” Reaching into his pocket, Dmitry pulled out a cigar and lit it up.
“Where is she?” Dax ignored his offer and glanced over his shoulder, but not far enough to see me. “Is she here?”
“I want you to forget about her. From this day forward. she’s no longer your concern.”
“See, I can’t do that. Because all I do is think about her. From the time I wake up, to the second before I fall asleep. I can’t just fucking forget about her.”
Tipping my head back to the ruined ceiling above me, I blinked hard to hold back the tears, the urge to break down. I understood every bit of what he meant, because I’d felt it, too. The unrelenting ache. The sleepless nights. The phantom strokes of his hands always reminding me of what I’d left behind.
“I’m not asking you, Mister Wolfe. Believe me when I say, if Nicoleta wants to be found, she’ll find you first.”
“Eden. Her name isn’t Nicoleta. It’s Eden.”
I listened to the way my real name rolled of his tongue, how sweetly it sounded in his voice.
“Eden. Of course. It’s been so long since she went by that name. Now, if you’d like to finish him off, I’m gifting you the opportunity. She wanted you to have some closure. Otherwise, I’ll ask you to leave, so I can pick up where I left off.”
Dax’s gaze scanned the room, and I crawled back to keep him from noticing where I sat crouched. “Thanks. But no thanks.” He shoved his gun into his pocket and backed himself away from Tesarik. “I didn’t come here for closure. I came here for her.”
I twisted around with my back against the adjacent wall and slid to the right, taking cover in the corner across from the staircase.
As Dax strode through the doorway, I held both hands over my mouth to trap the sob begging me to call out to him. To run back into his arms where I felt most safe. Instead, I let him go.
Love was a weakness, after all. A liability. One I couldn’t afford. I didn’t trust that Dmitry would feel the same and cut Dax out of my life for me.
It was better my way.
The moment Dax exited the building, I felt the weight crash down on top of me, pushing me under the surface again.
38
Nicoleta
One week later …
Throughout my life, my mother had prattled off a number of verses from the Bible, most of which I’d ignored out of anger. The one that’d stuck with me, though, was the one she’d spoken as she lay dying of a heart attack on the bathroom floor.
Water becomes hard like stone, and the surface of the deep is imprisoned.
My mother had always taken Bible versus in a literal sense, a result of her own ignorance, I supposed. And the words she’d spoken that day had only exacerbated my rage, as I’d imagined she was trying to tell me that only through God’s love could the water be thawed or some shit. After all, she’d accused me of lying about what’d happened to me, had told me it was an unbelievable story, because what young girl could find the strength to cut herself free from being tied to an anchor, and then crawl back onto that dock?
When she’d fallen to the floor that night, I hadn’t called an ambulance. I hadn’t screamed for help, or attempted to save her, at all. I’d sat beside her, contemplating life without her, and the kind of strength I’d need to survive on my own.
I’d watched her take her last breath, her eyes pleading for my help, and had never once shed a tear.
It wasn’t until years later that the meaning of those words she’d spoken to me through choppy breaths had come to light.
In her own way, she’d been asking for forgiveness. Confessing that her heart had grown so hardened by life, all the words she’d wanted to say lay trapped and imprisoned within her.
I’d have to live with the fact that’d I’d denied her forgiveness, and instead watched her suffering. My first kill, a merciless act that’d landed me another admission into the psych ward, and the only one I’d regretted.
Perhaps she’d have changed over time. Maybe she’d also had a hard time communicating with others throughout her life, and the verses she’d spoken had deeper meaning than the credit I’d given them.
My mother and I weren’t entirely different in that respect.
I’d always allowed the icy surface to act as a barrier to the truth inside of me. Dax had been proof of that. So many times I’d wanted to show him the turbulent nature of my heart that lay hidden beneath the glassy surface of my smile. Instead, I’d fed him lies, my own verses, never fully expressing what he’d come to mean to me.
Cloaked in the darkness, I lay in the obscurity of my room, where I’d spent most of the week. Could’ve gone anywhere in the world with the money I’d stolen from Tesarik, but like
a fool, I’d chosen to stay with Dmitry. He’d insisted, after I’d successfully delivered Tesarik to him, as promised. A deal I’d made with him, in exchange for the names of the men who’d hurt me, and where to find them.
A frigid cold crawled over my skin, the faint breath of despair winding down my spine. I was sinking again. Spiraling into the depths of something that promised no return. A darkness filled with skeletons, through whose bones I’d soon have to pick.
My cellphone lay on the nightstand beside me.
Help me, Dax.
Couldn’t reach it, even if I’d wanted to call him. Not with my hands cuffed to the bed. I’d toyed with fate one too many times for Dmitry’s taste, testing my limits. Holding my breath underwater far longer than I should’ve. Every cut to my arm closer to severing my ties to the world. Funny thing was, I hadn’t actually planned to kill myself. Kind of like those pills Dax kept on the shelf—a reminder of how much power we actually had over our demons.
Unfortunately, Dmitry had taken matters into his own hands, and once again, I found myself imprisoned.
The door clicked, and the light slicing through the bedroom shone on a lavish painting on the wall, which captured the dark innocence of a young girl picking flowers in a field, while the eyes of a wolf glowed through the forest trees in the distance.
How fitting.
I stared down at the dark silhouette taking up the doorway and swore I could see his gray eyes glow as they studied me.
He wordlessly entered my room, and the bed dipped as he took a seat beside me. The scent of his cigar smacked the back of my throat with a rich, woodsy aroma. The same scent I imagined death must’ve tasted like for his enemies. “You should’ve left when you had the chance.”
“I knew you weren’t finished with me. That you’d come for me, if I ran.”
His hand slid up the side of my silk nightgown, teasing the hem just above my panties. “I imagined his hands on you as I poured the acid.”
“It meant nothing, Dmitry. You know that.”
“I wasn’t referring to my brother’s.”
His words brought to mind the afternoon in the bathroom, when I’d watched in the mirror’s reflection as Dax’s hands erased the memory of my captors. What I wouldn’t have given to have them pulling me in, settling my mind, the way his gentle strokes had always distracted me.
“They meant nothing, as well.” Saying anything else would put Dax on his kill list.
Warm breath trailed over my shoulder where he dragged his nose across my skin, inhaling me. “You smell like lies, Nicoleta.”
“My name is Eden.”
“No. Eden was the child who stole from me. Nicoleta is the woman I intend to take in exchange.”
“I fulfilled my part of the deal, Dmitry. I gave you Tesarik, as you asked.”
“And I’ve kept my hands off you. I’ve waited for you. I dare say I fell in love with a child the day you stole from me, but that would make me worse than my bastard brother. You fascinate me, Nicoleta. Here, I’ve helped you at every turn, never once turned you away.” A sharp sting hit the back of my skull, as he yanked my head back and set his mouth to my ear. “All for a promise. The promise that you belonged to me in the end.”
My throat bobbed with a swallow, as he held my neck taut enough for a blade to slice across it. “I’m grateful for what you’ve done.”
“Your gratitude isn’t good enough. I want all of you.”
There’d always been something terrifying about Dmitry’s eyes. Something hidden within those gray irises that set my teeth on edge, and as I stared into them right then, I finally understood what I’d found so disturbing. They were empty—as empty and cold as his brother’s had been.
“You have me now, Dmitry. I’m yours.” Because I no longer cared what he did to me. Everything I wanted, everything I cared about, had been stripped away.
“No, I can see it when you look at me.” He relented his grip and pushed off the bed, his footsteps counting off his paces. “There’s betrayal in your eyes.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“As did I.”
I snapped my head back, taking in a sharp breath at the second silhouette standing in the doorway. “No. No, please.” Kicking against the mattress sent my back flying into the headboard behind me. “Please, Dmitry. I’m yours. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”
“I’ve been assured that you’ll be well taken care of. We can’t have anymore of these … little accidents you keep having in the bathtub. With the blade. I can’t take the risk that you’ll do harm to yourself.”
Doctor Emberle stepped into the room and adjusted his glasses. “I’ve taken the liberty of making sure your room is comfortable. Secure. You have nothing to worry about, Eden. You’ll be watched carefully.”
“Please! Dmitry, don’t do this!” Panic thumped inside my chest at the thought of my small, white room, with the barred windows and tiny cot. The mind-suppressing drugs and nightly visits from Doctor Emberle.
Dmitry stood over me and stroked a hand down my face. “You know how I feel about betrayal, Nicoleta. Besides, chtoby ctati privedeniem, nyjno izbavitsa ot teh kto verit v tvoe cyshestvovanie.” He leaned forward to plant a kiss to my cheek, and whispered, “To remain a ghost, you must eliminate those who believe you exist.”
I shook my head frantically, kicking and wriggling on the bed.
Dmitry stepped back, waving his hand toward Doctor Emberle, who approached carrying a syringe.
“Once she’s out, I’ll have the orderly help carry her down to the vehicle.”
“No! No!” The bed shook and rattled with my tantrum. I yanked on the binds, damned near tearing through my numb wrists to get away. “No!”
Shoving the cigar into his mouth, Dmitry held tight to my arm, as Doctor Emberle lined the needle against it.
I kicked out at him, slamming my foot square into the doctor’s nuts.
“Fuck!” He took a moment to cup himself, and even less time to jab the need haphazardly into my arm.
“No!” My muscles sagged with defeat, tears streaming down my face.
Dmitry let go of my arm.
Doctor Emberle took a step back from the bed.
I lay staring at the ceiling, waiting for last shreds of my freedom to fizzle into blackness.
39
Dax
I turned the ‘Cuda into the empty strip mall parking lot, then killed the lights and engine. As usual, I set the ‘For Sale’ sign in the windshield and kicked the seat back. Clock said ten-to ten, meaning I’d arrived ten minutes earlier. The silver Audi was nowhere in sight, yet, which gave me a minute to have a smoke and chill out.
Cracking the window brought the stench of the nearby garbage dump wafting through the air. Much as it made me sick, I found it fitting for the evening’s plans. A gun lay beside me on the passenger seat, taunting me.
I’d reached breaking point. The thin, fragile line between sanity and madness. Beyond the sadness. Beyond anger. The space where I no longer gave a fuck about anything, anymore.
The headlights of a passing car drew my attention toward the silver Audi, pulling into a dark lot just down from a Seven Eleven, where I was supposed to have a meeting with him. Well, where Jackson, the thirteen year-old he thought he’d been chatting with, was supposed to meet up, anyway. I’d told him I’d have a friend drop me off there, and figured the dark lot beside the dump next door would be the perfect place for a shady bastard to sneak up like a snake through the brush.
Turned out, I was right.
I gave him a minute, or two, to park and check the place out. A minute turned to two. Then three. Five minutes passed. Didn’t usually take so long for them to get out of the car and investigate, but maybe he was the cautious type. The second he exited his vehicle, I nabbed the gun from beside me and stepped out after him.
Crazy how nine times out of ten, the assholes who showed up were small, weasel-looking things, who seemed to have too much time and money. Could just tell
the guy walking toward the Seven Eleven had probably never worked a day of hard labor in his life.
“Excuse me!” I called after him, and he immediately spun around and took a step back. “I’m, uh …. I’m having a little car trouble. Think you could help me?” Thumb hiked over my shoulder, I watched his eyes skate toward my ‘Cuda and back.
“I’m … I’m sorry.” He shook his head, shuffling back toward his vehicle, and I jogged toward him, drawing my piece.
“Freeze!” With my gun aimed square at his skull, I imagined bone and brain blown to chunks all over the pavement.
Asshole raised his hand in the air and turned back to face me, the familiar look of fear clouding his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
“Oh, I think you can.”
“You want money?”
“No.” I advanced closer, keeping the barrel pointed at him. “I want to know why the fuck you came here to meet a thirteen year old for sex.”
His eyes shifted away and back. Liars always did that shit, for some reason, like another answer was sitting next to them, or something. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I came here to grab a pack of smokes from the store.”
“You always park in the next lot? ‘Cause I’ll tell ya, shit ain’t safe in Detroit. Not this area, anyway. Never know who you might run into.”
“I don’t want any trouble. Please. I have a family.”
“Do you have any idea how fucking sick that is? You have a fucking family, and you’re out here looking to pick up a kid to stroke your dick?” I strode toward him with both hands on the gun, one holding back my trigger finger, which twitched with the urge to end the pathetic little cunt in a single shot. “I should just blow your fucking head off right here and spare your family.”
“Please!” He knelt down to the pavement and clasped his fingers together behind his head, sobbing. “I’m begging you. I’ve never done this before.”
“You know how many times I’ve heard that, asshole?”