“This is what our family does. War comes naturally to us, and we always win.”
“And a war between you and Gavriil?”
“I hope I never have to find out how that battle ends.”
I don’t know what to do with that truth, so I put it aside for now. All I know is that if they ever go to battle, it won’t be because of me. I refuse to let that happen.
Dominik takes the chair again when I move toward it like he’s decided I’m only allowed to occupy his bed. He looks at the phone on the table and then at me. “If it rings,” he says, “you say your sentence.”
“And if he asks for more?” I ask.
“Hang up,” he answers. “Because that’s all he deserves after betraying you. The guns don’t absolve him of all his sins.”
It shouldn’t feel like a crown being set on my head when he says things like that. But it does.
So later, when Archer texts, I type out exactly what Dominik and I discussed. Nothing more, nothing less.
I’m still breathing for now. I don’t know for how much longer if you don’t bring the money.
Dots start then stop.
UNKNOWN:Alina? How do I know this is you, that you’re okay?
I don’t answer. The phone rings instead, the ringtone like the bang of cymbals in the quiet room. I don’t move, preferring to let Dominik decide this. He hands me the phone, and I hit accept and press speaker so he can hear every word too.
“Alina?” Archer’s voice is too loud, too bright for this time of night.
“I had one sentence,” I say, and my voice is exactly what I need it to be, steady and cold. “I used it.”
“Please. Please, just?—”
I end the call. My hands are steady. My lungs are not. The phone vibrates again immediately, and we let it ring until he gives up.
I put the phone on the bedside table and lie down on top of the covers because he gave up too soon for comfort. Across theroom, I study the set of Dominik’s mouth, the casual way his ankle crosses over his knee, and how he looks at me like I’m more valuable to him than two million dollars.
“Dom?” I say because I want to hold something inside me that isn’t fear.
“Yes?”
“You could sleep in the bed too, if you want.”
My heart thumps hard at my own boldness, but I don’t take the offer back.
His face is unreadable. Not surprised or smug. His shoulders seem to relax an inch, though.
“Okay,dikaya koshka.”
I tell myself that offering the man his own bed isn’t surrender. It’s just being polite.
Either way, his agreement, even if he doesn’t accept, allows sleep to take me again in pieces and puts me back together right and wrong.
The next time I wake, the light has changed outside the window, and the chair is empty. The apartment smells faintly of coffee. The clock says I took another hour I didn’t ask for. I sit up, expecting to see him in the bed next to me, but it remains untouched. He never took me up on my offer. Disappointment burns like acid in my belly.
The bathroom door opens, the scent of a hot, soapy shower filling the air with his presence.
“You’re awake. Good. I’m on my way out,” Dominik explains.
“What?”
