Russo Saga Collection

by Nicolina Martin

  I jerk when I hear a shout and a heavy thud. Then everything stills. I stare at the glass wall, but the corridor outside is dark and deserted. This came from further away. My heart races from the sudden commotion. I was sure I was alone. Getting to my feet, I then hesitate. I glance at the little digits on the lower right corner on the computer screen. Ten to nine. Ugh. Why am I even here still? I’m not done, but I’m not staying another minute. I snap the laptop shut, throwing the room into almost complete darkness, then I stand frozen to the spot, barely breathing. Overcome by a strong urge to get out of the building, I grab my phone, throw it in my bag and tiptoe out of the office. Everything is quiet, but I know I heard something before. Something that shouldn’t be there.

  The corridor outside is faintly lit, and I leave it like that. I take aim for the elevators on the far end, hastening my steps, but stop dead when I hear something again. A voice, it sounded like someone in agony. What if the person is ill? Needs an ambulance. Who is it even? I’m here alone. Maybe I heard wrong? I hesitate. Every instinct screams at me to run, but I don’t want to be like one of those people you read about who just walked by someone in need. Damn. I turn on my heels and walk in the direction of the sound, every step heavier as dread fills me. It’s quiet now, and it scares me even more. I peek around every corner. All the doors are locked and all the offices dark and empty. They’re separated by glass walls to the corridors, so it’s easy to see.

  Right as I pass an open door, there’s a grunt from inside the room, and a muffled bang, followed by a scream. I nearly jump through the roof from the shock. The scene before me is like something from a movie.

  A man falls.

  A gun glints in the dim light.

  Two men come darting toward me.

  I gasp. It’s Mr. Myles. We have a brief exchange of mutual terror before he flees out into the corridor. The gunman who chases after him, a huge dark-haired man, slams into my shoulder, yelling something I can’t make out. He trips over the bag I’ve dropped and falls prone to the floor. I almost spin around from the force of the hit and stare at him, disoriented. He jumps to his feet with incredible agility for that size, glares at me with a sneer on his lips, and dashes off after my boss.

  I yelp when I feel a sharp tug in my hair and am pulled inside the little office supply room. I nearly stumble over the unmoving body of Mr. Darrell and a sob escapes me. I clutch at the hand of my attacker and try to bend the fingers off me. The tearing in my scalp makes me moan with pain. I look up and gasp when I’m met by those eerie light-green eyes I now see for the third time today.

  Eric. From Starbucks. The charming stranger I argued coffee with. Who didn’t want to talk about his job. Now I get why.

  I let out a raw sob of fright, my heart slamming so hard in my chest I feel like I’ll faint, and grip his hand, trying to pry myself loose. This isn’t happening. Not again. Please, not again!

  He doesn’t look pleased at all. His mouth is twisted and his eyes flare.

  “Anna.”

  Chapter 6

  Eric

  How unlucky can one girl get? I fucking told her not to work late, and yet here she is, and not only that, she stumbles in at the exact wrong moment. A couple of minutes later, and Russo and I would’ve been gone. Fuck, I hope he catches Myles. It can’t be that hard to get that skinny son of a bitch.

  She struggles in my grip like a little rabbit, her eyes widening with fear and recognition. “No! Please! Let go!” She grabs my hand and tries to bend my fingers, whimpering.

  “Shhh, stop struggling, Anna.”

  I make my voice soft, trying to cajole her into submission instead of using brute force. It would be easier on both of us if she just accepts her fate. She stops, her small hands still clenched around my fingers. Everything is still for a few moments. All that is heard is her labored breathing. I feel true regret. She had something that intrigued me, carried secrets I’d have liked to explore, and I’m really sorry I have to kill this girl. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at me with her huge brown eyes, dark and scared.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. And I mean it.

  “Why are you sorry?” she snarls. Her eyes widen, her face turning into a mask of horror. “Oh God! I let you in the building! You used me!”

  I don’t bother to correct her. She won’t feel any regret in a moment.

  I have to hold her tighter, crushing her little frame to my chest as she jerks and twists.

  “Let me go!”

  I shake my head, my heart heavy and raise the knife to her throat. Her eyes fall on it and she doesn’t freeze in fear like so many do. She goes absolutely crazy, kicks and screams and manages to knee me in the fucking groin. All the air leaves my lungs as white-hot pain shoots up from my balls. It feels as if she fucking broke something. I fall to my knees and almost puke from the nausea that surges through me.

  She tears free and darts toward the door opening. No matter what, I can’t let her get away. I throw myself forward, falling to the floor, but manage to catch her ankle, clutching it for all I’m worth. She kicks out, hits my nose and I lose my grip, then she gets to her feet, but so do I. Throwing my arms around her waist, I spin us around, pushing her against the wall, cornering her between the Xerox machine and a shelf. Something wet and warm trickles over my lips and goosebumps race across my back from the searing pain in my balls. Resourceful little lady. Snatching up the knife, I suddenly don’t feel all that sad over offing her. Her eyes dart to mine and tears well up.

  “Oh God, please no!” she cries. “I won’t tell. Please don’t do this!”

  I put the knife to her throat. Remembering her scar, my chest clenches at what I must do. “I wish you hadn’t seen this, Anna.”

  Her breaths come in short gasps, she twists and suddenly something hard hits the side of my face. I dodge and try to catch it, but she hits me again and again. Blood starts oozing from my eyebrow as it explodes in pain. Dropping the knife, I stagger back and clutch at my face, then strike and grip her hair, slamming her back against the wall. She strikes the thing to my nose and then pulls away. I end up with a significant tuft of strawberry-blonde hair in my hand, but no Anna. She gasps and whimpers as she wrings free. I manage to grab her wrist, but she fucking bites me. Hard enough to break the skin. Un-fucking-believable! I roar and try to get hold of her again but end up with her yellow cardigan as my only prize.

  I’m pretty sure I’ve held back and underestimated her grossly, because she’s a tiny little woman, and she bested me. And now I lost her. Grabbing something off the floor, she then disappears out of the room. I have to stop for a moment and wipe the blood out of my eyes because it’s getting really hard to see, then I dash after her. She can’t be allowed to get away. I can’t leave a witness.

  Anna

  Clutching the phone I found on the floor, I sprint down a corridor as if I have the devil himself behind me. In my little world he is. I’m falling into a dark abyss of raw fear, lightheaded, unaware of where I am. All I know is I’ve got to put as much distance as possible between us. I pray my legs won’t give out, because they feel like jelly. My heart beats so hard I can barely breathe. Eric could be right on my heels. I can’t stop looking over my shoulder, even though it slows me down. My back crawls from not knowing if he’ll grab me in the next instant, or the next, or the next. I still feel his hands on my skin, his touch burned into my soul forever.

  I glance behind me. Still nothing. Where is he?

  Images from today flicker by, pounding at my mind like a hammer. The intense gaze that had me spellbound from the moment our eyes met. The smooth laugh, and that slight rasp to his voice that made me shiver. A charming stranger I met at Starbucks. A charming stranger I should have stayed the hell away from.

  I loathe him for fooling me, but I despise myself even more, because I fell for it. I’ve been in the dark for so long, so lonely and lost. Something in him woke something inside me. I felt like he saw me. I was wrong. Terribly, utterly wrong. He didn’t flirt with m
e because he thought I was interesting, or fun to talk to, all he did was use me to get into the building. A dark cloud of rage rises in me. Yet again I’ve been used. The anger pulsates through my veins in pace with my feet pounding the floor.

  I have to get away. I have to make a call. I have to hide!

  Realizing I can’t use the phone while running for my life, I dive into a handicap restroom, praying he’s far away. The phone, bless it, connects without a password.

  911. My hand trembles as I tap the numbers on the screen.

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “I’m being followed,” I whisper. “They murdered a man and now he’s after me!”

  “Okay. Stay calm and try to find a safe place to hide. Help will be on its way. What is your location?”

  “Mr. Myles, my boss. Help him! Please! He ran from here, he’s out there somewhere!”

  “Miss. Are you in a safe location at the moment?”

  “Yes.” I glance around the confined space. “Yes, I think so.”

  “Can you tell me your address?”

  “Two twenty-one south O—”

  A beep, and I’m disconnected. My heart plummets. No!

  I shake the phone, as if that would help, then I press the start button. I barely keep my grip on the phone because I tremble so much. The screen flickers once and hope rises in me only to die again when it goes black. Did they at least hear the address? Can they trace the call?

  Crap!

  I desperately need to find a working phone. I try to remember where I am and how to get to street level from here, but I ran blindly through the building, and I realize with a sinking heart I have no idea where I am. Tears well up in my eyes as I stare at the door and then back at the phone. I throw it with all my strength against the wall, watching it shatter as it falls to the tiled floor. Fuck you, Eric!

  I dearly hope he’s in pain, and that he’ll never be pretty again after what I did to him. My stomach clenches. Most of all I hope he won’t find me.

  I stare at the shards on the floor. I can’t stay here. Every instinct in me screams at me not to go back out there, but there’s no other solution.

  I’m not a large person, and he is. Large. I felt his strength. It’s a miracle I got away. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I reach for the lock. After a moment of hesitation, I sneak open the door. As I try to gain control over my racing heart, I glance left and right. Where is he? I’m sure he’s around. I saw the rage in his eyes, he won’t let me get away with attacking him. Furious doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’ll also know I’ve used his phone. And I’m a witness.

  Stepping out of my shoes, I take them in my hand instead. I need to be quick. And quiet. High heels won’t do.

  Glancing behind me, after I’m in the corridor, I gasp when Eric comes around the corner at the far end of the corridor. He’s a terrifying sight, with the blood on his face, his mouth a thin furious line. Our eyes lock, and he smirks. In his gaze there’s a promise of pain and death. I whimper and dart in the other direction, around the corner, only to find a dead end.

  “No!” I stumble as my knees almost give out.

  There’s a door next to me and I rip it open, not even having time to hope it will be unlocked. I lock it and stare around the room. It’s empty, seems abandoned. Behind me, the door shakes on its hinges. I dart forward and pull open the next door, finding yet another corridor. It’s dimly lit and colder. I’m sweating profusely, though, so I welcome the chill. There’s a faint smell of concrete and fresh wood.

  Almost out of breath, I choke down my sobs. Please… I want to beg him to stop doing this. It’s not fair. I don’t deserve it. I still can’t believe the transformation from the kind charming man I met at Starbucks into this monster. Some part of me trusted him, judged him and approved him despite my general mistrust in men, and that little piece inside me is in pain from the loss.

  Tears burn in my eyes and a lump is growing in my chest as I keep running, every step getting heavier. I don’t want to do this. I want to be at home, curled up on my couch, waiting for my father’s nightly phone call. My life lies in the hands of the man who’s chasing me without remorse.

  Please, Eric!

  But of course he doesn’t hear my silent plea. And even if he had, he’d have laughed at me. Glancing back, I see him, his arms and legs pumping furiously. He’s gaining on me fast. Whimpering, I dart around another corner and find myself in a narrow passage. I gulp hungrily for air, pressing my hands to my chest and my pounding heart. The lights are almost non-existent, and there’s a steady humming coming from a ventilation shaft in the ceiling. It’s even colder than before and the scent of wood and concrete is stronger.

  At the far end, there’s another closed door. A cool breeze blows on my ankles from under it. Praying it’ll lead to a staircase, I pull it open and fall against it when I close it. I’m not sure I can take another step. My whole body is shaking from exhaustion and fear. Then I take in the surroundings.

  A construction site!

  They are renovating the building, and somehow, I’ve stumbled into the unfinished areas. Raw concrete floors and piles of plasterboards. Large plastic sheets dividing the open space into sections, shifting in the cold wind with an eerie whispering sound. Faint lights from the city illuminate the place, making it even more ghostly.

  I would laugh at the irony, if it wasn’t so serious. Did I evade my fate a year ago, avoiding getting killed after the rape at one construction site, only to die tonight in another?

  A distant rustle from behind startles me and wakes me from my trance.

  Chapter 7

  Anna

  I slide along a wall, keeping a row of pillars between me and the door, staying out of his line of sight. Goosebumps erupt on my back as I hear a slam and then steps. My stomach clenches. He’s here. I have nowhere else to go. This is the end of the road for me and he will kill me. Oh God!

  Slow steps echo between the gray, cold walls. I retreat further. The feeling of having entered an alternate realm strikes me. A ghostly orange light, dimmed through the rustling plastic sheets, give a sense of being inside a dying sun. I don’t know why I think of that allegory. Maybe it’s the dying part? The plastic whispers a repeated ‘die-die-die’. The sound of footsteps comes closer. I press my fists to my chest, afraid he’ll hear my thudding heart. I force myself to breathe deeper, slower. Think, Anna, think! The temperature has dropped, and a chill creeps up on me. I rub my arms, freezing in the damp flimsy blouse, and then hug myself, as I try to stay warm.

  “A construction site, Anna.” There’s a clear taunt to his tone. “The irony of that, huh? Fate finally catching up with you.”

  I jump a mile when he speaks. His voice holds an ice-cold sharpness, cutting through the silent space like a razor’s edge. I swallow hard to get rid of the pounding terror in my chest and shuffle closer to the wall, farther off to the other end. I see a shard of the darkening sky through a gap between naked concrete pillars. I let out a quiet groan. How did I trap myself in here?

  There must be a way out.

  “I know you’re in here somewhere, and believe me, I’m not in a hurry. My part of the job is finished, and this little game you’ve started is between you and me now, Anna. It’s fate.” He laughs. It’s not a friendly sound. “What better place to end this, huh?”

  Footsteps again. I hold my breath.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he singsongs. More steps. “You can’t hide forever. You’re only prolonging the inevitable.” A clunking sound. “It’s just me, Anna. I only want to talk with you. Like at Starbucks, sweetheart.”

  His voice has such magnetism to it. It coaxes me toward him. I almost have to dig my heels into the floor not to obey.

  “We looked into you, Anna. You and your colleagues. We had to get an in, and you were such an easy target. The little loner, the odd one out. The nightly phone calls from your dad. The Saturday lunch with him. No other company. All alone. Much like you are now.
Come to me, sweetheart, let’s end this, and I’ll stop my colleague from cutting your dad into pieces. You know, if he doesn’t find Myles, he’ll probably do that. Go for Dad. Just to get back at the interfering little girl. And he’ll be angry. He’s a fucking psychopath. Ruthless. Thorough. He kills everything that gets in his way. And he likes to play with them first.”

  I freeze, my head spins and my heart beats wildly. What? They followed me? Tears well up in my eyes and I choke on a sob. This is even more of a nightmare than I imagined. The thought nearly floors me. I’m exhausted. I need to rest. I can’t take this anymore. A part of me wants to go to him, give up, let him do whatever he means to do and get it over with. But I don’t want to die, and I know with a chilling certainty what fate awaits me if he gets to me. I need to get out. I need to get to a phone. I have to save everybody: My dad, Mr. Myles, myself.

  I wipe the tears off my cheeks and ball my hands into tight fists to get a grip. Taking a quick peek out from behind a pillar, glimpsing a black clad leg and a shoe, I stifle a gasp. He’s really close. With my heart in my throat, I glance around me, trying to find some way around him.

  That’s when I see it.

  At the center of the room, but closer to the other end, are two shiny steel doors to an elevator that stands open. A promise of salvation. If I can get there before him, I can make a dash for it, reach the ground floor and escape. Maybe. I’m taking a huge risk, but I don’t see any other way out.

  Column after column hides me from him if I keep the right angle. I have the horrifying notion he already knows where I am and is only playing a game of cat and mouse. The thought suddenly angers me more than it scares me. I don’t want to be a mouse. I want to be a survivor. Glancing at the elevator, I decide to try to lure him away from the center of the room. I tiptoe back toward the entrance and, with my heart in my throat, I make a scraping noise with the heel of one of my shoes against the wall.