“Former roommates,” he corrects.
“—would involve me cuddling with myhost.”
“Well,” Dorian says with a shrug, “that can’t be helped. See, I’m actually scared of horror movies, so I need you to protect me from the ghosts and demons. I’m considering you my good-luck charm, whichmeans I’ll be keeping you close.” When I raise my eyebrows, he pushes his bottom lip out in an adorable pout. “You don’t want to let me get eaten by demons, do you?”
I can’t help the smile pulling on my lips. “I don’t think the demons in this movie will eat you.”
“Semantics.”
“Are you two going to flirt for the whole movie or actually watch it?” Seamus questions loudly. “You’re being distracting.”
“If you were watching the movie instead of Mira’s former roommate, you wouldn’t be so distracted,” Dorian says back, not looking away from me.
Cheeks burning, I pointedly avert my gaze from him and turn my attention to the screen.
Again, my phone starts buzzing. This time, I welcome the distraction, unfolding myself from Dorian’s grip. “I gotta take this call,” I murmur, hurrying out of the room. I make my way into the kitchen, gazing at theUnknownID pasted on my phone screen, knowing it’s probably a scammer sitting in a call center in India.
I wind through the house and head out of the back exit, flicking on the patio lights. It’s chilly outside, but I don’t want to risk running into Dorian if I head back in to grab a sweater. I’m flustered and unsure of where I stand with him, even more uncertain of which direction we’re heading in. I feel like we’re evolving in a way I’m not ready for.
Taking a seat at the wooden table, I pick up the call, pressing it to my ear. I expect to hear a scammer telling me that my credit card information has been stolen and the only way to fix it is to give him my social security number and all of my personal details.
“Hello?” I say, already preparing how I can blow off some steam by fucking with the operator.
“Mira.”
My blood runs cold. My heart stops. Goosebumps spread over my arm and neck like a rash, and nausea rises in my esophagus. Everything in the world seems to come to a halt as I hear the cruel,cruelvoice speaking to me. The evening birds stop chirping, the distant sound of cars driving by disappear, and even the low hum buzzing from the patio lights seems to fall silent.Everythinggoes still.
“Clyde.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
My voice sounds faint, almost as if it’s coming from a different person. My thoughts fog up as my brain reverts to the survival mindset I learned while living with the man on the other end of the line. The scar on my leg starts to itch, as if reminding me of what Clyde’s capable of.
How did he get this number?I changed all my personal information when I managed to escape him and go to college. I have a new phone number, new last name, newlife. With the threats I dropped on Clyde before leaving, I thought he’d let me go.
He has to let me go, I remind myself. He can’t do anything to me without me fucking him over and getting him killed. One conversation with his boss is all it’ll take to bring his carefully-constructed life crumbling around him. One whisper in the right ear and he’s done for.
I move to hang up on him; Clyde stops me with a single phrase. “It’s been a long time, Mira. Years. You really thought you could leave me in the past?”
Anger overtakes my fear. “Ihaveleft you in the past, Clyde. We’re of no consequence to each other, and that’s how I’d prefer to keep it.”
He clicks his tongue. “I thought that was the case, too,” he says calmly, “until I found out that you’ve been getting in bed with someverybad people. I always knew you’d grow up to be a whore, just like your slut of a mother. I just didn’t think you had it in you to spread your legs for a criminal.” A low, rattling chuckle escapes him as bile churns at the back of my throat. “Like mother like daughter, I guess.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I hiss furiously.
“Oh? So, you’renotthe side piece of one of Sergei Novikov’s foot soldiers? A boy who goes to that fancy university with you?” He hums. “I must’ve gotten bad intel, then.”
My fear reignites, a consuming dread that freezes me in place, dissipating my anger. So Sergei Novikov is the boss Dorian keeps referring to; nowonderDorian’s religious in sticking to Sergei’s orders. I’ve heard of Sergei Novikov—anyone who doesn’t live under a rock has heard of him. He’s an infamous Bratva boss who owns all of Russia and most of Eurasia; rumor has it he has several international operations, too. One that I’m apparently caught in the middle of.
Clyde should have no way of knowing about my connection to Dorian or of Dorian’s connection to Sergei; both men are completely out of his reach. He’s with a local gang in a town in Pennsylvania—an organization that’s made up of a collection of wife-beating imbeciles. From what I’ve heard about Sergei, he runs aninternationalcriminal empire.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even though I try to make the words strong, they come out coated in fear.
Clyde chuckles. “Right. Here’s what you’re going to do for me, Mira. Carver wants in with Sergei Novikov. He wants to go into business together. You are going to get him a meeting with Sergei—”
“No, I amnot,” I hiss. I refuse to be pulled back into Clyde’s world; I refuse to enable him by getting his boss a meeting with Sergei. Clyde is nothing but a bad memory for me. I willnotallow him to invade my present. “You can’t make me. If I ever talk to Carver, I won’t bearranging a meeting with whoever the fuck Sergei Novikov is. I’ll be telling your boss exactly what you did six years ago and who died because of it.”
My senior year in high school, I managed to find out about a crime Clyde committed that not even his boss would be horrible enough to overlook. Clyde liked to keep pictures of his victims for his own sick amusement, and I happened to stumble upon a stack of them while cleaning the house.
