by Kaye Blue
Once the bed was freshly made, I felt, if not exactly relief then momentum.
Though the house was already clean, I started the process over again, scrubbing floors, vacuuming, throwing myself into the work.
By the time I was finished, I had cleaned every inch of the apartment and was exhausted in the way I had been seeking.
I showered again, fell into my freshly changed seats, and into a deep sleep.
I started awake, my eyes flying open, and I tried to figure out why.
My sleep had been deep, dreamless, just what I had needed.
But something had pulled me out of it.
I stayed still, listening, but was unable to hear anything over the pounding of my heart.
And then I sensed it, started to scream, but cut the sound off in my throat.
I looked over and saw something in the shadows.
My heart clenched tight; my breath frozen in my lungs.
“Ivan?”
The word came out shaky, thin, a whispered prayer in the air, one that I knew would be unanswered.
The shadows moved, seem to part, and from them emerged a figure.
My throat clenched tight, fear making it impossible for me to scream.
“No. Not Ivan.”
Fifteen
Ivan
In three days, I would finally respond to the attempt on my life, but the time was passing slowly.
Not because I was nervous or scared about the outcome. I was as confident about that as I could be. That wasn’t the source of my discontent.
No, that was her.
How foolish I’d been to think that I could simply push thoughts of her away and leave them where they were.
Very.
I’d been able to do just that all those years ago, and I tried to think about why.
Maybe it was because my life, my father’s legacy, was at stake?
A stupid answer, but the truth was, no matter what I’d been able to do back then, I wasn’t able to do it now.
To have been close to her again, held her, tasted her…
Giving that up for a second time nearly broke me, but again, I knew I had no choice.
“He’s waiting for you.”
Ezekiel had come into my office, but I didn’t respond immediately.
Instead, I waited a moment, those lingering thoughts of Tru something I tried to push away.
Where I was going, what I had to do, there was no place for her.
“Let’s go.”
Ezekiel left, and I followed behind him, flanked by my guards.
“Did you find an appropriate location?”
Ezekiel glanced back at me, his expression almost offended, but he nodded.
“Yeah. It’s good. Secluded.”
I nodded then said nothing else as we got into one SUV, the guards in another, and set off on our destination.
He didn’t attempt stealth, and I didn’t want to. Everything about this, multiple cars, multiple people, was designed for specific purpose.
I wanted to be seen, needed to be seen, and I was certain that I would be.
Ezekiel said nothing, and I didn’t either.
There was nothing to say. This was just a part of the business, the life that I had chosen.
The one that had chosen me.
“You can wait here.”
I nodded at Ezekiel and got out of the SUV, gave the same instructions to my men, and then walked toward the abandoned building.
I walked inside and found who I was looking for in the first room.
He leaned against the wall looking nervous, having every reason to.
When he saw me, he stood and slipped his hands through his hair.
“Boss, I—”
I shook my head, silencing him. There was no reason for words, not anymore.
“Too bad things had to end up this way,” I said.
I meant it too. I had known him since we were kids, and while I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that I could trust anyone, not really, I hadn’t anticipated his betrayal.
“I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t have a reason.”
Anger flared in my chest, but I pushed it down. There was no place for anger here. This was simply a business.
“Yeah, I know all about your debts. And I guess I might even have understood if you had tried to kill me for your family, but money…” I said, unable to keep the scorn out of my voice.
He looked ashamed, something that was unfortunate, but also something that wouldn’t change his fate.
I shook my head, lifted the gun, and pulled the trigger.
Then I left.
“Dispose of him, and dispose of this,” I said to one of the guards.
He nodded and got to work without a word.
Ezekiel, who said nothing, got back into the driver side and I the passenger side.
“I’ve known him since I was ten,” I said.
I wasn’t exactly sure why I was talking, and apparently Ezekiel shared my confusion.
“Your first?” he asked.
It was my turn to be incredulous. “You know the answer to that question.”
“Had to ask though.”
“Why?”
“You’re reminiscing about the past, so I have to make sure you’re not about to start crying or puke or something,” he said with a shrug.
“You know I’m your boss, right?”
“Yeah,” Ezekiel said, though he didn’t seem overly concerned.
“So why would you try to antagonize me? I could have you killed at any moment.”
“You could. But you strike me as the type who appreciates honesty. And besides, I give you loyalty, but I’m not kissing your ass. Had enough of that with your father,” he said.
“Fair enough.”
And in a way, I guess it was. I valued people who were brave enough to be honest with me and was certain that if my father had appreciated that more than people who kissed his ass, he might have lived longer.
Ezekiel had proven himself useful, resourceful, smart.
“It might be time for a promotion,” I said, telling him the direction of my thoughts.
“Let’s see if you live through the weekend, then we can talk about it,” he said.
I laughed then said, “Since you’re being so honest, tell me what’s on your mind.”
“You think anybody’s going to buy that?” he asked, glancing at me before looking back at the road.
“Buy what?”
“He was solid, but there’s no way anybody with half a brain would think he was some mastermind, that he managed to compromise your upper echelon security and get close enough to you to take you out.”
“You’re right,” I said.
“So then why?”
I hadn’t bothered to explain this part of the plan to Ezekiel, didn’t feel like I was obligated to either but made the snap decision to share.
“He betrayed me, and his death is a useful distraction.”
“What, with him gone, everyone else will think you’ve let your guard down?”
I nodded. “Exactly. I need them to believe it for a little while, just long enough to relax, get a little sloppy.”
Ezekiel shook his head, clearly considering. “I can see the play. It might work.”
“And?” I asked, seeing there was something else on Ezekiel’s mind.
“That guy was shit. You should have gotten rid of him years ago.”
“Maybe. But he’s gone now.”
It probably spoke poorly of me, but I didn’t give the man I’d just killed another thought.
No, I had bigger, much more serious things at stake.
And even though I knew it was madness, it would be impossible for me to get through these next days without seeing her.
“I’ll be around,” Ezekiel said.
“Good,” I responded, though I was distracted.
He probably noticed.
In fact, I was certain he did, but he didn’t li
nger. And I appreciated that.
The need to see her was strong, growing stronger every moment.
I didn’t matter what had happened before or what would happen soon.
My feet moved of their own volition, following my heart not my head, the anxiousness to see her speeding my steps.
When I reached her front door, I couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding, one that hit me with the impact of a punch.
Something was off, and that knowledge, knowledge that threatened to become panic, had me pulling out the spare key I’d had made.
She wouldn’t appreciate the intrusion, but I didn’t care.
I unlocked the door quickly, moving faster than was probably smart or cautious, but unwilling to do anything else.
I pushed the door open and noticed immediately that it didn’t feel like home.
That was because she wasn’t there.
I searched through all the rooms, hoping to find her, knowing that I wouldn’t.
I searched again but couldn’t miss the inescapable truth.
Tru was gone.
Sixteen
Tru
“Make the call.”
The man—he hadn’t been kind enough, or stupid enough, to give me his name—extended the phone in my direction.
In his hand, it looked like little more than a toy. I was certain that if he so chose, he could crush it without breaking a sweat.
So I looked at the phone, so tiny in his huge hand, up his thick forearm which was corded with muscle, up his massive biceps, past the impossibly broad shoulders, and into eyes that were so dark that they looked pupilless.
Soulless.
I used all the strength I could marshal to keep myself from shivering and recoiling in fear.
I was afraid.
There was no question of that and no question that he knew it. But that didn’t mean I would show it.
“No.”
He gave absolutely no reaction, didn’t even move, seemed not to breathe.
And was all the more intimidating for it.
If he could crush the phone with no trouble, what could he do to me?
I did shiver then, unable not to, not when I knew the answer to that question.
This man could end my life with no effort at all, could probably do so much worse.
Antagonizing him wasn’t smart.
I knew that, knew that I should just give in, but I couldn’t.
The last day had been excruciating, a roller coaster of fear, then terror beyond fear, then boredom and bits of curiosity.
The man had moved me from my apartment and into a van with speed and efficiency that told me it wasn’t his first time doing that kind of thing.
That should have been my first clue to be on my best behavior, but the shock of it all was overwhelming.
At first, I fought, punched him as hard as I could, which had gotten me little more than a sigh and an annoyed glance.
Then I had scratched him, not drawing blood but getting his attention.
“Don’t do that again.”
His sentence had been direct, his voice deep, slightly accented, and the most terrifying thing I had ever heard.
It had also been confirmation that trying to physically overpower him wasn’t an option.
As the hours passed, I had tried persuasion, told him that I knew very powerful, very dangerous people.
People who wouldn’t appreciate what he was doing but who might take mercy on him if he let me go.
He’d said nothing and been completely still, completely quiet, and ever more unnerving.
In the day and night that had passed, our interactions had consisted of simple instructions—him telling me to eat, drink, go to the bathroom, and then sleep.
All of them had seemed impossible. What were average, everyday functions when my life was hanging in the balance?
Especially the last.
How could I sleep with him there, me not knowing what he wanted or why he was keeping me alive?
It seemed impossible, but somehow, I had drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened roughly by a shake on the shoulder, him standing above me with phone in hand.
“Call.”
He repeated the word, the demand, the threat in it undeniable.
Still, I was stubborn.
“You took me from my home and plan to do God knows what with me? Why would I cooperate with you?”
That got a reaction from him, a slight furrowing of his brows as though the answer was obvious.
And it was. But I ignored that, kept my eyes on him.
“I sent an email to cover yesterday, but if no one from the clinic hears from you, they will get suspicious. That won’t do.”
He spoke matter-of-factly, like him having access to my email and knowing about my work wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
But it was.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t random. And though I had sensed he was more than the physically intimidating presence he presented, I had proof of that now.
I stood from the small love seat that had been my makeshift bed but soon felt myself collapsing back down onto it.
What could I do?
I looked up at him again, to the phone that he still had extended, and knew the answer.
Nothing, at least not yet.
I stood again, took the phone, being careful not to touch him, and quickly dialed.
First, a quick conversation with two of the other doctors who volunteered at the clinic to cover me for couple of days, and then, without his prompting, a call Melissa’s office.
As the phone rang, I was torn, not sure if I wanted her to answer or not.
Her voicemail picked up, and I left a message, knowing that I sounded tired, probably a little sick—with terror, not illness, though I hoped she didn’t pick up on that—explaining that I had come down with something but that I’d be in touch.
“Satisfied?” I said as I sat back on love seat.
“Phone.”
He extended his hand again, and I frowned, knowing my ruse hadn’t worked.
This man wasn’t sloppy enough to leave me with the phone, but I had to hold onto what hope I could.
Which was none at the moment.
I handed the back phone, tried to keep my expression blank.
I wouldn’t give up with a fight, but I had to be smart.
“Is this about money?”
It had been hours since I’d had tried to engage him, and my current efforts were about as successful as my previous ones, which was to say not successful at all.
The man had heard me. In fact, he was looking right at me, but he didn’t respond.
“I don’t have any, not really, but I might be able to get some.”
I fought to keep the edge of desperation out of my voice, suspecting some seeped in any way.
That wasn’t entirely true. I was leaning on Ivan, on what he had told me about himself, what I had seen him do.
He was my only hope, and though I was terrified of putting my faith in him, what other choice did I have?
But just as quickly, I knew he wasn’t an option either.
The last time he left, he told me he was gone for good, and I didn’t have any reason to disbelieve him.
How would he even know that I was here?
He wouldn’t.
My stomach dropped, and I tried to fight back the despair that threatened to overcome me.
He would find me. He had to. Until then, I would keep my head on straight and do what I needed to do to stay alive.
“You have a name?” I asked.
No response, no indication that he had even heard me, though his soulless eyes still hadn’t left me.
That was probably dumb anyway. Trying to find out more information about him couldn’t be good. The fact that he so freely showed me his face had already scared me, but what else could I do?
Maybe if I got to know him, him to know me, it wouldn’t be so easy to do whatever it was he planned.
“You don’t have to be rude. I mean, this is a tough situation for me. I’m just trying to make it a little bit better.”
No response, not that I was expecting one. But he wasn’t angry or he didn’t seem to be. If nothing else, this man was stoic, and I had absolutely no insight into what was going on with him.
But I wouldn’t give up hope.
My life depended on me not.
The rest of the morning and afternoon passed almost excruciatingly slow, the man still not speaking, me still not giving up my periodic attempts to engage him.
I still hadn’t gotten anywhere, but he was at least tolerating me, so that was something.
The sun had started to set, and after a dinner of surprisingly decent sandwiches and chips, we had again resumed our positions, him in the far corner of the room—a spot that gave him full view of the place, which was something I had only just realized—me on the love seat.
I could see the door out of the corner of my eye and tried my best to appear disinterested, though I was anything but.
It had standard locks, one deadbolt, no change. Maybe if I…
“No. Don’t try that.”
I inhaled sharply then sighed, seeming to deflate, but I kept my gaze on him.
“I wasn’t. Besides, it might as well be the moon. You would catch me before I even made it over there.”
I spoke with resignation, but there was no way to deny the truth.
“Correct.”
I hadn’t asked the question, didn’t really need him to give an answer, but he did anyway.
My spirits lifted ever so slightly.
He’d spoken to me.
That was progress.
I would hold onto it.
I also wouldn’t press my luck. I had probably antagonized him enough today, so I wouldn’t do anything else. I would wait, bide my time, hope that Ivan found me, and if he didn’t, I’d figure my own way out of this.
I nestled into the love seat, tiredness starting to weigh me down.
It was unnatural, the mix of the adrenaline rush wearing off and the boredom of the day starting to get to me.
Still, whatever the explanation, I felt myself drifting.
I really should stay awake. After all, letting my guard down around him was stupid.
