by Raven Scott
The taste of him sent my buds into a frenzy, and I moaned softly as panic replaced the passion that might’ve been. “If you die, I’ll never forgive you.” Tightening my grip on him when he pulled back, I held my breath as my heart rampaged through my chest.
Igra’s eyes sparkled with determination and something dark that almost turned his irises black. Letting out a sharp sigh, he tenderly caressed my lips with his thumb.
“I can’t lose now.” I hugged him harder.
Igra held the back of my head as we shared a still, frightful moment. “Go on, Yelene. I have utmost faith in you. Don’t forget what I told you about Erik.”
“I won’t.”
He pulled away from me with seeming reluctance as he stood from my bed.
I sat up slowly to stretch my legs. Rubbing my thighs, I flexed my toes and closed my eyes to steady my furiously beating heart. Anxiety ate away at my gut, but I forced it down before standing up. Sweeping my hair back and over my shoulder, I stood a little taller. “Okay.”
Igra smiled encouragingly at me.
With all the faux confidence I could muster, I walked out of my room, and intent eyes scanned my back and lingered on my butt. The tingly sensation that tightened my abdomen ate away at the ball of nervousness, and I clenched my hands into tight fists. I had to do whatever I could to keep Igra from being attacked from two sides.
Just because Ophelia doesn’t let guns in the house won’t mean Aleksander wouldn’t bring one anyway. ‘No guns’ sounded like such a stupid idea. ‘No obvious guns’ was an even stupider idea. Surely, he could just tuck one against the small of his back. She wouldn’t pat him down or something and faint frustration threaded my veins.
Ophelia was smart and maybe, I was missing the mark, but—I didn’t see the point in banking on a fist fight.
Aleksander was Igra’s fight, and Erik was mine. Come to think of it—why doesn’t Ophelia just break her own rule and shoot him herself? A sour frown curled my lips at my own pondering as I walked down the hall towards the stairs. Wonder flittered between my ears as to how Ophelia might spin this story.
All those paths seemed to point to one end—she was going to throw Igra under the bus to advance herself. Sure, everyone else might seem to accept the official story, whatever that might be, but she was sneaky. Ophelia was a fixer. Her job had always been to fix messes and lie, cover up and sacrifice whoever she needed to achieve that fix.
“Yelene,” whisper-yelling at me, Sascha waved me down the stairs hurriedly.
Apprehension coiled in my gut. Goosebumps pocked my arms and across my chest as I positioned myself next to him
He grabbed my wrist gingerly. “You okay?”
“Yeah? Why?”
He pursed his lips but didn’t have a chance to speak up.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Ophelia opened the front door of her home for Aleksander and Erik.
I held my breath.
Aleksander oozed confidence and power, his whole presence taking up the moderately sized entryway.
Sascha squeezed my wrist lightly before releasing me.
“I see your home is as lovely as ever,” Aleksander spoke. “Your parents would be horrified.”
Grinding my teeth to keep from cringing at Aleksander’s deep timbre, I held myself still.
He smirked, showing off false dimples— dents from too many blows to the face.
“Thank you. Let’s go up to my office.”
Aleksander followed Ophelia up the stairs.
I sighed with relief through my nose when he didn’t spare me so much as a passing glance.
Sascha nudged my arm.
I crossed my arms over my breasts automatically when I felt eyes on me.
Erik was slime— gutter sludge— and my anxiety over his leering reached up the back of my neck into my scalp. Gulping down the dense lump in my throat, I turned around to head towards the kitchen. My stomach roiled at the idea of food and even worse when I felt Erik following me. Realization hit me hard, like a slap to the face. I was on my own. Sascha wasn’t going to get involved.
“Are you the new maid?”
I suppressed the shiver at Erik’s thickly suggestive tone to nod over my shoulder, and he sucked his teeth. Awful. Such a gross, horrible noise grated my ear drums.
“Too bad you’re not in uniform. I’d love to see you in that little skirt with your tits hanging out.”
My eyes boggled out of my head in shock, and alarms rang shrilly to drown out the sound of my furiously beating heart. Struggling to fill my lungs, I closed my eyes briefly before entering the kitchen. Prickles raced up my legs and back wherever Erik’s eyes roamed, as I walked to a cupboard to grab a cup. My hands shook, and black spots assaulted the very edges of my vision.
Filling the cup with cold water, I tensed with a sharp breath when Erik smoothly pinned my hips to the edge of the sink. He so blatantly rubbed against me and disgust made me skin crawl as I tightened my grip on my mug. Contempt pooled in my mouth as I shouldered him away, and I glared hotly out of the corner of my eye.
He cocked a smirk, as if he was amused, and a predatory glint brightened his eye even as he held his palms up mockingly. “Relax. I won’t do anything you don’t like.”
Erik’s silky purr made my stomach roil dangerously and a horrified shudder lodged between my shoulder blades.
He started to advance on me again, closing the short distance between us to tower over me. This time, he gripped the counter on either side of me. Looming over me threateningly, he leaned down close to my face. “You look really familiar, yeah? What’s your name?”
A cold sweat slicked my skin under my shirt as my heart leapt into my throat. “Y- Yelene—Kaprinov…” My voice shook, and I clamped my lips tightly shut for fear of my twisting stomach.
Erik groaned softly, his warm breath drying my cheeks.
I gagged dangerously as the smell wormed up my nose.
He jerked back as I covered my mouth with the back of my hand, and anger tinged his face pink. Still, his arms trapped me and bile sloshed up my throat to sour my tongue before I managed to force it back down.
Erik’s nasty snarl and glare lodged ice in my chest. At least it’s keeping down my stomach. My diaphragm tightened into a dense wall when Erik suddenly grabbed my hips with painful force. Snapping to the present, I whimpered at the shocks that ripped up my sides, and he pushed me hard against the counter.
He moved in slow motion, and Erik leaned down to whisper gutturally in my ear. “Kaprinov? Your parents are the doctors from years ago, they begged me to spare you, saying you’re innocent… I wonder how innocent you are.”
The fine hairs on my cheek bristled, and I held my breath as my heart rampaged from the fear flooding my system. An almost physical pain tightened my chest, and my heart threatened to burst through my ribs.
Malice dribbled from Erik’s tone and I blanched when he licked my ear. “That was all they asked, over and over again. It was kinda sweet, honestly.”
“M-my parents?” Wincing when Erik’s nails dug into my hips, my heart slowed dangerously as a buzzing droned in my ears. “What?”
“I’m gonna enjoy fucking you even more, knowing I’m the one that killed them.”
13
Igra
“So, I wanted to discuss…” Ophelia paused when I slipped into her office.
A certain calmness settled heavily on my shoulders. This was the ease of a killer, and distaste coated my tongue—but killing no longer made me queasy or sweaty. I didn’t think about it anymore, just moved and tried to stay in the seconds as they ticked by.
Aleksander twisted only to doubletake in surprise and he leapt from his seat with rage painting his face.
“—How did things get to this point, Aleksander…?” Sadness gripped my heart in a vice for a brief moment before I shook my head. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? You’ve unilaterally decided that I am a threat and you make it no secret what ha
ppens to anyone you feel is threatening.”
“You decided to come crawling back with your tail between your legs, Igra?” Aleksander sputtered a little from rage and shock.
The sadness that had gripped me changed. I just felt bad for my brother now, and I scanned him through narrowed eyes. He had gone from being a competent, dare I say, good boss, leader, and man, to—this. To a man consumed by the idea of power and only doing what was fun or amusing.
Of course, Aleksander wasn’t lawfully a good man, but he did have morals and rules he abided by. The key word being ‘had’.
“No. I’m not here for that, Aleksander. You’ve become a danger to me, my family, and my country, and I can’t let you destroy everything you glance at. If the chances were better, maybe I would consider it, but…” Trailing off, as my brother shivered with apoplexy at the mere sight of me, I shook my head with a defeated sigh. “I know we’re past the point of talking, but I wish I didn’t have to do this.”
I could see it in Aleksander’s flashing eyes— picturing all the ways he would torture me for betraying him. He was so fully engulfed in his rage that he couldn’t see properly. He clenched and released his fists as if he could already feel my neck between them. The tattoos winding up his arms danced from the anger gorging his muscles.
Maybe, many years ago, I would’ve been intimidated in the face of such wild emotion, but not today.
The silence rang in my ears, even the blood drumming surprisingly quiet. The only sound was Aleksander’s teeth grinding then he let out a wretched, emotional cry before flinging himself at me.
Adrenaline burst through the flood gates and I sucked in a sharp breath as my heart lurched. Ducking the fist swinging for my head, I grabbed Aleksander’s wrist and jabbed my shoulder up.
His elbow snapped right next to my ear, and I winced as an irrational worry that his bones splintered my ear drum. The crack was so loud and sharp, almost sickening, and he sent sharp punches against my unprotected side.
The pain was muted under the roaring in my ears as I whipped around to pull Aleksander’s broken arm behind his back. Kicking his knee, I forced him down and managed a shallow, hot breath.
My brother punched at my face blindly, scratching at my chin and trying to grab my hair.
Clenching my jaw hard, I pushed him onto his stomach, but his useless arm slipped from my grasp. Rolling onto his back before I had to chance to pin him, he pulled his leg back to kick at my head.
Taking the heel of his expensive, leather shoe to the cheek, a grunt dislodged from my throat as I stumbled back. Blinking back the daze of my rattled brain, I shook my head wildly while Aleksander jumped to his feet. Holding his broken arm, he panted and sweated furiously, drenching his shirt and sticking his hair to his eyes. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you bastard!”
Straightening with a stabilizing breath as Aleksander spit venomously, I swiped my hair back with trembling hands. “You’re doing a shit job, big brother.” Somewhere, deep in me, I was annoyed that Aleksander had devolved this way. His face twisted into someone I didn’t recognize, and I braced myself as he charged at me. Using brute force, he jammed his shoulder into my chest, and the air knocked from my lungs. The ink on his fingers flecked my skin when his knuckles cracked my eye socket in half, and my head flung back.
My father’s words from so long ago wafted through my fogged mind…. I bit my inner cheek as I got ahold of myself. With a quickness that caught Aleksander off guard, I snapped my head forward with all the force I had. His nose flattened against my forehead, but his pain never voiced as he crumpled. Stumbling away, I blinked through the blood that flooded my eye.
Aleksander clutched his face as he knelt, panting hoarsely. “Fuck!” The glint in my brother’s eye was insanity as he jumped up to rush me again—as if it worked the first time.
This time, I stepped forward too soon and he knocked into me like a dog running into a parked car. I fell back onto my ass and I wheezed horribly while he just laid on the floor, dazed and unable to center his mind.
“You know, Aleksander…I really feel bad for you. I need to know, why are you doing this?” Rasping my question, I rubbed my face with clammy, hot hands, and blood dribbled down my wrist and arm. “You’re not this.”
“L-like f-f— fuck—would y-you underst— understand.” Stuttering hard, Aleksander chuckled a bitter laugh that would haunt me forever.
Out of the corner of my good eye, Ophelia walked over to Aleksander with a gun stable in her hand. I knew I shouldn’t be surprised she’d had her own, but I was too relieved it wouldn’t be me to do this ultimate act.
“You fuckin-ng bitch!”
“I hope God treats you better than you’ve treated others, Aleksander,” Ophelia stated.
I closed my eyes and turned my head as the most horrific bang echoed through the room. My teeth rattled, and my chest emptied of everything as the invisible waves knocked me onto my back. Clutching at my chest, I struggled to breathe as the rippling sound intensified, bouncing off the ceiling and walls to strangle me.
“Igra—Igra!”
My eyelids fluttered dangerously.
Ophelia set down the gun to rush over to me.
But the voice wasn’t hers. Beyond the ringing, I heard shrill, desperate shrieking. “Igra!”
Yelene! Aw, fuck! The jolt to my system shot me up into a sitting position, and I shirked off Ophelia’s hands to scramble to my feet. I couldn’t see out of one eye as I fumbled out of the office to run for the stairs. Taking the steps two at a time, I jumped the last few, and pain shot up my left leg as I fell into the wall. Panic curdled my blood, and my heart squeezed painfully. “Yelene!” Limping into the kitchen, shock so powerful it blocked out the pain entirely wrapped around my spine.
Yelene grunted with each stab of a butter knife, sitting on Erik’s dead, lifeless body. She stabbed his face over and over again, her shirt in tatters, her bra ripped up one side. The waistline of her jeans was around her thighs.
I blinked my good eye hard before forcing my stiff knees to bend.
When I came close, Yelene screamed and swiped the knife up at me, twisting around to show me her pale, gaunt features. The heavy smell of her sweat wafted up my nostrils, and she jammed the butter knife deep into my outer thigh. I barely felt it, and she pulled back her curled fist only to realize the knife wasn’t there anymore.
“Malen’kaya ptitsa…”
Yelene’s irises suddenly became visible at my murmur and she looked at me through tight pupils. Alarm brightened her eyes, and she clamored to her bare feet to throw herself into my arms. She was feather light but managed to knock me back against the island, and I slid down to wrap my arms around her.
There were tears but no sobs and black encroached on my already bleary field of vision. I didn’t feel right, but I buried my face in Yelene’s tangled mess of hair to take shallow, wheezing breaths through my clogged nose.
Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.
14
Yelene
“Did you know?”
Ophelia’s breath hitched at the question.
This gave me all the answer I needed and I turned to her. The world moved slowly, and she turned to me to capture my eyes as an apology flashed through hers.
With a quickness even I didn’t expect, I slapped her across her face. “Get out.”
She stumbled to the side into Sascha’s arm.
If she was dazed, her husband didn’t give her a chance to squeak out some half-assed apology or excuse. Sascha dragged Ophelia out of the room while she clutched her cheek, mouth agape in shock.
My hand stung and I clenched my fingers until my nails dug into my palm. Like individual shots in a film, the room spun as I turned back to Igra. I heard nothing. I tasted nothing. All my brain power went to seeing and I crawled onto the bed to lay next to him.
The doctor Ophelia had called turned Igra’s face away from me to clean his damaged eye, and I blinked hard. If what Erik said was true, tha
t meant Igra knew my parents were dead long ago. He knew the emails were fake. He knew my hope was useless. While he hadn’t actually lied to me, I never realized he was dodging my statements and questions about my parents.
But there was a difference between what he did and Ophelia promising to reunite me with my mom and dad. That was how she convinced me to come to her home in the first place. She promised— promised!— that my parents were going to be liberated.
No—they weren’t liberated. They were liquidated.
“I’m mad at you, but not as mad as I am at her.” Ophelia might’ve been nicer than Aleksander, but she was just as much a manipulator and a liar. When I blinked, all I could see was her face when she told me I would have my family back.
At least I understood Igra’s motives in not telling me the truth. So close to this, killing Aleksander took precedent, and I didn’t blame him for not wanting to distract me. In some screwed up way, it helped me— the shock, horror and the raging sense of betrayal.
If I wasn’t so—so upset, I might not have been able to stop Erik when he didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
But Ophelia—Ophelia had lied to me over and over again. Yes, maybe she was thinking of the long game, but she was never going to involve me, anyway. Or was that another lie? A headache sprung up behind my eye sockets and I wiggled closer to Igra. His warmth scorched my cold skin, to melt the ice lodge in my chest, and I managed a deeper breath than a moment ago. “I would forgive you if you apologized.” Reaching to gingerly touch Igra’s jaw, I exhaled heavily through my nose to sniffle hard. I truly understood why he didn’t risk it right now. Killing Aleksander needed to get done. If things didn’t happen so fast, maybe it would’ve been different, but ‘if’ wasn’t real.
