by A. Zavarelli
Slipping back into her bedroom, I find a cozy spot beneath the bed. When she returns from the shower and drops her towel, I bite back a groan. It would be tempting to bend her over right now and reacquaint her with my cock, but that isn’t on the menu today.
It takes her another forty minutes to get her and the boy she calls Josh ready and out the door. A name I remember well, and one I have every intention of uncovering the mystery behind. But first, I take a tour of her bedroom, searching through the drawers and closet. I check every shoe, cupboard, and box, but they turn up nothing.
Inevitably, I end up swiping a pair of her panties from the laundry basket and kicking off my shoes as I fall into her bed. When I close my eyes, I can still see her, naked and wet and wanting. I drag the panties to my nose and unzip my jeans, fisting my cock roughly as the scenario plays through my mind. Maybe I could fuck her one last time. Taste her one last time. Wrap my fingers around the beating pulse in her throat one last time as I demand her to tell me all her secrets.
My balls contract and the muscles in my legs grow rigid as I drag my palm along the length of my cock. It’s too fucking much, but it’s not nearly what I want. My breath sputters as I release my pent-up frustrations across my abdomen in jets. When I collapse back onto her bed, I toss the panties onto the floor and wipe my hand on her pillow because I’m a sick fuck, and this is the only way I can be close to her.
After cleaning myself up, I move on to the other parts of the house. Again, I realize that Kat’s absence hasn’t much improved her life. She owns the basics but not much else. The boy’s room is sparse but cozy with a twin bed and an animal theme that seems to brighten up the place. Books are scattered on the nightstand as well as a photograph of Kat and Josh together in a frame. I pick it up and stare at their faces, trying to decipher what I recognize staring back at me. His eyes and his features are familiar in a way that makes my gut churn, but I can’t accept it. Not until I see proof.
Finally, in the living room closet, I hit the jackpot. There’s a fireproof cabinet with hanging file folders organized into categories. I grab the one labeled Josh and do a quick scan, noting health records, daycare files, and a birth certificate. One glance at the date of his birth has me collapsing back onto the sofa in stunned silence.
He was born just a little over three years ago. Or approximately eight months after she ran from Philadelphia. The space for the father’s name on the certificate is notably absent, but I don’t need to see it to know the truth.
Josh is my son. And Katerina thought she could keep him from me.
The school is dark and quiet as I walk down the hall leading to Kat’s classroom. It’s been a long day, and I’m running on little sleep. But now that I know the truth, I’m hungry for information.
A bullet to the head would have hurt less than discovering I have a son who has no idea who I am. He is half mine. Katerina and I made him together. But she took it upon herself to steal him away, never informing me of his existence.
I am all too aware of the pain of growing up without a father, so I wouldn’t want that for my son. He deserves better than this. He deserves more than living a life where he doesn’t know there’s a man who would do anything to protect him. A man who loved him the second he became aware of the truth. It’s not something I can explain or rationalize, but this changes everything.
Josh is my son. My blood. And blood is stronger than anything. Kat is about to learn what that means to me. She thinks she can run away, but there is nowhere left to hide. I’ve lost the first three years of his life, and I can’t get those back. But I will die before I let him live a life where he doesn’t know his father.
The door to Kat’s classroom is locked, but it doesn’t take long to find the right key on the ring of spares I had made. Once I’m inside, I take a seat at her desk and unlock the drawers, rifling through her things.
Between the erasers and pens and markers, I find little of importance. No flash drive to speak of. But there is something that catches my eye. A sticky note beneath the keyboard with an alphanumeric password scrawled across it.
Stirring her desktop computer to life, I enter the password, and sure enough, it grants me access. But after a bit of poking around, I find it isn’t quite the gold mine I was hoping for either. There are no odd files lying around. Regardless, I send everything to Alexei to let him determine if anything seems suspect.
In Kat’s search history, I am not surprised to see frequent searches regarding Nina’s death and any updates in the case. But I am surprised to find that she has been searching my name too. Is she hoping that I’m in prison? Or is she checking up on me? That I can’t say for certain, but her workspace only leaves me with more questions than answers.
I begin to tidy up her desk at first, attempting to put everything back as it was before, but then I decide against it. Maybe it’s time to let Kat know she has a reason to look over her shoulder. But just in case it isn’t clear, I remove the familiar pink scarf tucked inside my jacket and stuff it into her bottom drawer. A subtle message she can’t miss.
Honey, I’m home.
12
Kat
I feel a slight throbbing of my head and am more tired than usual when I pull into a parking spot at the school on Friday morning. Probably the bottle of wine Luke and I shared last night at Emma’s half-birthday. Guilt gnaws at me. I probably shouldn’t have driven home, but I didn’t want to stay.
I had no intention to drink at all, but it felt good to relax a little. Let my guard down. I’ve been tense all week, more than a week, and that feeling that someone’s following me, watching me hasn’t subsided.
Josh is humming along to a child’s song from the CD we usually listen to, and when the music stops abruptly once I kill the engine, I hear his little high voice, and it makes me smile. I turn back to look at him.
“Did you and Emma have fun last night?”
“Yep. I think she liked her half-birthday gift.” Josh has a crush on Emma, and it’s so cute. “She can’t read yet, so I read it to her,” he adds casually. It was a copy of one of his favorite books, and I’ve read it to him so many times that he’s memorized the text.
“Well, that was nice of you,” I tell him. “Ready to brave the cold?”
He nods.
I open my door to slip out and can’t help but glance toward the woods again.
“He’s not there today, Mommy,” Josh says from the back seat.
I freeze, every cell in my body icing over.
“Wh-what did you say?” I ask him finally, lifting my gaze to see his in the rearview mirror.
“The man,” Josh says, pointing at the woods. “You were looking at him too.”
“What man?”
“You know,” he says, trying to pop the seat belt but not quite able to.
“What did he look like?”
“I don’t know. He was wearing a hat and a big coat.”
“When did you see him?”
He scrunches up his face. “I don’t remember,” he finally says.
“It’s really important. Can you try to think about it?”
He nods, taps a finger to his mouth, and looks up. It’s a gesture his teacher makes. He then turns back to me. “I don’t remember. Can we go inside? It’s cold.”
I nod. “Sure, sweetie.” I don’t want to upset him so I try to act casual as I undo his belt and lift him out of the car.
“Are you scared of him, Mommy?” Josh asks, again surprising me. Although I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been very tuned in to my feelings.
“No, dear. I just…hadn’t realized you’d seen him too.”
“Who is he? Is he your friend?”
I’m saved from having to answer when the bell rings. “Uh-oh, we’re going to be late!” I quickly close the door, and we rush toward the front doors. I catch Josh when he slips on some ice, and he giggles.
“I’ll take you skating this weekend, okay?” I tell him.
“Yay!�
��
The weekend coming up is a long weekend, and I’m grateful that the school’s already quieter this morning. A lot of parents will take advantage of the three-day weekend and take their kids out early. Josh and I aren’t going anywhere, but it’ll be good to have an extra day off.
After I walk Josh into his room, I help him out of his coat and kiss him goodbye. I watch him for a moment as he rushes to his group of friends and starts playing happily.
My mind is racing as I walk out of the classroom, and I’m not paying attention when I turn the corner of the hallway to the teacher’s lounge and run straight into Luke’s chest.
“Whoa.” His hands close around my arms, steadying me when I bounce off, and I’m reminded of another night when someone caught me like Luke just did. Steadied me. Took care of me.
I give a shake of my head. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” I tell him.
“Miss Katie, you’re a klutz,” Emma says with a giggle.
I force a smile at the little girl, but my anxiety is growing. “I thought you weren’t going to be here today,” I say to them both. Luke had told me last night he was planning to leave early to take Emma to her grandparents for a visit.
“We had to cancel,” Emma says, disappointed. “Grandma doesn’t feel well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” I say.
I look up at Luke. His expression is odd, and I remember last night. Remember him wanting to open another bottle and suggesting I stay over. Even offering to sleep on the couch and let me have his bed.
“Since we’re around and you’re around, maybe the four of us can get together again. Take the kids somewhere.”
“Uh…sure.” He’s still holding me, so I make a point of checking my watch. “I’m going to be late.”
“Oh, sorry,” he says, releasing me and stepping backward.
I give an awkward wave and rush past, bypassing the teachers’ lounge and heading to my office, which I share with four other teacher’s aides. Our desks are divided by low partitions, and I slip my coat off, hang it on the rack by the door, and walk to the back corner where my desk is.
I’m glad no one’s here yet and I can be alone. Sinking into my chair, I take a deep breath in and count as I slowly exhale, then repeat.
Josh may have been imagining seeing someone in the woods. It’s not like I actually saw anyone; it was just a feeling. But then there was the feeling of being followed when I went to Daniel’s Point. And all those other times this past week.
The door opens, and two of the other aides enter, talking loudly.
I force a smile and look up to find them each carrying a piece of cake and a cup of coffee.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Morning, Katie,” Maria and Hannah say almost simultaneously. “You’d better hurry if you want cake. It’s Mr. Barnaby’s birthday.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“I know.” Hannah giggles. “We’re just as shocked as you are that he brought cake.”
Mr. Barnaby is the principal and must be a hundred years old at least. And for as friendly as most of the teachers are, he’s a bit of a grump.
“I’ll go grab some in a minute. I just have to finish something up.” I tap the keyboard to bring my computer to life and punch in my passcode. I don’t have anything to finish, but I need to think. To plan. Because if it is Lev, if he’s found me or if they’ve found me, I don’t have an exit plan.
I find the folder labeled Kindie Notes and open it. Within that, I click through two more innocuously named folders before I get to the one with just a year on it. It’s the year I met Lev Antonov.
Opening it, I click through into the single file there. It’s password protected, and I punch in the code. The date Nina was killed. Figured I’d never forget that.
I don’t know what I expect to find. Do I think it’s someone from Lev’s world come to take back what they wanted that night? It’s not like they’d know I have it or know anything about me at all. The only person who knows I even exist is Lev, but that does little to comfort me. I know how dangerous he is. I know what he’s capable of.
The day after I left, I talked to Rachel. I needed to tell her I was all right. That I was sorry for leaving like I did and that she could find the cash I’d stashed to cover my share of the rent and groceries for two months.
She told me what had happened. That Lev had turned up at the apartment soon after I left. He’d looked disheveled and smelled like fire. His clothes were dirty and spotted, and although I knew what those spots were, if she realized it, she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
She told me he took my things and left and gave her money to get lost.
I haven’t talked to her since, but I call her number now and again just to hear her voice and know she’s safe. Know he hasn’t gone after her. I never leave a message or even say hello. I don’t want to put her in any danger.
I punch in the last digit of the password, and the file fills my screen.
It’s a list about three pages long. A list of names. I recognize some. All have at least one date beside them. Some have a second.
Government officials, federal agents, retired and active politicians, among others. Most are powerful, connected men. Some are dead. Most of the dead men have that second date entered. The ones without that second date are mostly still living.
The dead share one thing in common. They all died tragically in some sort of accident—a car wreck, skiing accident, something random.
So, I did the math. I remember how much Nina used that term. I hated when she did. It was usually when she was annoyed with something or found something stupid.
But I did the math.
Her father stole this list from the Russian mob, and Lev was looking for it that night. Lev killed her family for this list, and my guess is it’s a list of informants, of people in Vasily Stanislov’s pocket.
“There you are,” Janet, the older teacher with whom I work, says, startling me as she sets a piece of cake on the corner of my desk.
I fumble to close the file, and I’m sure I look guilty as sin.
If she notices, she doesn’t remark, but her eyes flicker over my screen. “Isn’t he growing up fast?” she says. My screensaver is a photo of Josh and me last Christmas.
“Too fast,” I say.
“I snatched the last piece of cake for you,” she says with a wink and sips from her mug of coffee.
“Thank you, that was thoughtful. I’ll share it with Josh after lunch.”
The bell rings then, and she looks up. “Well, we’d better get in there.” Our classroom is connected to this office, so she goes ahead as I stand and follow her.
“Can you grab Mr. Noodle?” she asks.
“Sure.”
I go back to my desk and open the bottom drawer where I keep Mr. Noodle, a sock puppet we use during story time, and my heart stops. My knees give out, and I drop into my chair. The wheels roll it slightly backward, away from the fading pink with its splatters of dark red.
I don’t scream only because I can’t.
Because my throat is dry, and I have no voice.
“Katie?”
I turn to find Janet peeking her head back into the office.
“Are you coming?”
I nod, touching a clammy hand to my damp forehead.
“Are you all right, dear?” she asks after seeing my face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I…I don’t feel well.”
She comes over, reaches into the drawer and pushes my scarf over to take the sock puppet. Does she notice the splatters of red? I’d left it in Nina’s room that night. On her bed. It’s her blood. And I’m going to be sick.
“Go lie down in the nurse’s office. I’ll be fine. We have a small room today,” Janet says, and I don’t answer. I just sit there staring at my scarf. The one Lev must have recognized that night. The one that he put here.
He’s found me. He’s here.
And my time’s
up.
13
Kat
As soon as the door between the office and the classroom closes, I force myself to move. To grab the scarf and shove it into my purse.
It smells like smoke. Like smoke from the fire that killed Nina. I hope to God they didn’t burn her alive.
My legs tremble as I make my way out of the office, not bothering to pick up my coat as I walk out. As I concentrate on not running.
I don’t pass by Josh’s classroom. I’ll come back for him. He’s safest here with so many people around, not alone with me.
A realization comes over me then. Does Lev know about Josh? Has he seen him? Does he understand?
God.
Fuck.
Icy air forces me into the present when I open the front door and step outside. The parking lot is empty. Wind blows powder snow around. In the sunlight, it sparkles like diamond dust.
I’m going to miss it here.
I can’t help but glance toward the empty woods as I make my way to my Jeep. I go to unlock the door but realize I’d never locked it this morning. I’d been too distracted with what Josh said about seeing the man.
Lev.
It has to be Lev.
But what if it’s not? What if it’s one of the others I saw at the club or someone else.
No. It’s Lev. The scarf is proof of that.
I climb into the Jeep and start the engine, kicking myself for not having taken it to the garage yet when it takes two tries for the engine to turn over. Cold air blows at me from the vents, and I rub my hands together, freezing without my coat as I drive out of the lot and turn onto the road.
Glancing into the rearview mirror from time to time, I drive home on autopilot.
I’m going to miss our little cabin in the woods, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. I have to keep us safe.
Driving faster than usual, I make it home in twenty-five minutes. I park the Jeep and look around, peering into the wooded area behind the cabin before climbing out.
