Maria
My fingers tremble as I clutch the phone. I need to do something … anything to save Mikhail and my dad from their hell-bent destruction. I begin typing out a text.
“Dad, I need you …”
I hesitate as I debate whether to send it. I hold the phone in both hands as if chanting a prayer over it and staring into the screen. All the things Mikhail said to me-loving things that make me forget what he is-and then he ran off after reading the text on my phone.
Nothing has changed.
He’ll never change.
Mikhail uses his charm to keep me in check.
But what if he really meant it?
Maybe I shouldn’t do this, and my thumb hovers over the text to delete it. It wasn’t that long ago my dad attacked a boy for kissing me at a party, and Mikhail has done a lot more than that. Sending the text is definitely a bad idea, but a sudden knock on the door startles me before I can delete it. I fumble my phone, which lands on the floor as the door opens.
Dominika’s concerned face appears in the doorway. “Maria, are you all right? I saw Mikhail rushing down the stairs, and then he went out with Pavel.”
“I’m fine,” I stammer awkwardly, trying to sound calm as I tell a lie. “He had a call, that’s all.”
She eyes the messy covers and nods, accepting a lie she would’ve questioned a month ago. “If you need me, just say so.”
The door shuts softly, and I don’t understand why I’m on edge. I grab my phone off the floor, and my heart leaps into my throat as my world shatters in front of me.
The screen displays a message I never intended to send.
A green balloon with my stupid words in it mocks me. Another bad decision made.
“Shit!” The curse blasts out of my mouth. I’ve always been over my head in this relationship, if I can call it that, and now, I’ve just poured gasoline onto a raging fire.
I hit Mikhail’s number, waiting for an answer. But instead, a generic voice mail with his number answers my call. I try again, over and over, tapping the end button as soon as I hear the voice mail and hitting send again.
But the result is the same.
Each time his voice mail plays, my anxiety grows until I can barely stand it.
“Pick up, Mikhail. Please,” I whisper into the phone, praying he’ll hear me somehow.
I can’t stand here and wait for the results of my stupidity to manifest.
In my own inability to decide, I’ve pitted them against one another, and I have to stop it now. My reckless text is all the excuse they need to kill each other. I won’t be the reason! I refuse!
I storm out of the room and down the spiral stairs.
“Anton!” I shout as I enter the kitchen. “I need your help!”
Anton looks up from a late-night snack, a thick sandwich in his hands, and his dark eyes fill with concern. But Dominika is the one who answers me, “What’s wrong, Maria?”
I huff impatiently. “I have to find Mikhail. Right now.”
Anton hesitates and assesses my demand as Dominika watches him. “You’re not allowed to leave the penthouse without Mikhail Ivanov’s consent.”
“Please, Anton,” I get in his face and plead. “Mikhail’s life is in danger. My f-Zakhar is looking for him. I have to stop them. I must do it, or one of them will die.”
He places his sandwich on the plate and taps his phone. When he gets no answer, a string of Russian curses tumbles from his lips.
“All right,” he relents, understanding the severity of the situation. “But we have to be careful.” His expression hardens as if he’s become another person. Much crueler than the one I know. “You can’t get hurt. And you must listen to me.”
Relief momentarily washes over me, making my legs weak. We hurry to the elevator, and I follow behind his hulking form. “Stay close,” Anton warns in a menacing tone that I’m not used to.
In the parking deck, we walk toward the huge SUV that resembles an armored tank, and I try to call my dad, hoping he’ll pick up. I text him to call me ASAP, but there’s no response. Each time, it goes to voice mail.
“Dammit, Dad,” I whisper, struggling to keep my emotions letting loose. “Answer me.”
But my phone remains silent.
Anton gives up on calling Mikhail and Pavel and uses a tracker to locate their vehicle near Jersey City. We head out, and gradually, the scenery changes from the city to the wastelands between towns. The darkness is overwhelming, putting my senses on alert as I stare hard at the dark road ahead.
“Almost there,” Anton tells me. “Remember what I said …”
“I’ll listen,” I reassure him, knowing he’s risking his own life for me.
The foolish decisions I’ve made so far have cost so much, but I’m determined to save the man I love from my own father.
And to save my father from him.
“We’ll get to him,” he whispers as if reading my thoughts. “Promise.”
With each unanswered call to my dad, my heart pounds faster, and beads of sweat break out on my forehead. I clutch my phone tightly, praying that my dad will have a change of heart. I promise that I’ll do anything.
I bargain with myself and every unseen force, but I become anxious as we cover another unlit mile. My stomach knots as I imagine what might happen if we don’t find Mikhail first.
“Can’t you drive any faster?” I demand.
“We’re going as fast as I can,” Anton answers. “And you donotwant Jersey cops pulling me over right now.”
Anton’s phone rings, but he says Pavel’s name when he answers. They speak in Russian, and I want to scream at him like a banshee and tell him to speak English. I don’t recognize a word, but then I hear both mine and Mikhail’s names, and my hands grip the edge of my seat.
The call ends, and Anton’s gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror.
“Well?” I snap impatiently.
“I’m taking you to him,” he replies. “In a few minutes.”
He taps his phone attached to the dash-and puts in the location. The SUV picks up speed as we head toward a rundown part of town, and I have no idea where I am or why Mikhail would come here.
I sink down in the seat as realization folds in on me.
He came here to kill my dad.
Anton’s booming voice interrupts my image of doom. “Almost there,” he announces, casting a protective glance back at me.
I nod, praying that my dad won’t be there waiting.