She doesn't respond. Just hugs her duffel bag to her chest and stares out the window.
I drive faster than I should, putting distance between us and the apartment. In the rearview mirror, I see the first flash of police lights as they arrive at her building.
Good. Let them come. Let them try to take her back.
I'll burn down the whole city first.
Ava
The Strip blazes past the window in a blur of neon and noise. Casinos stacked like glittering fortresses, their lights bleeding into the night sky until you can't tell where Vegas ends and the stars begin. Tourists stumble along the sidewalks, drunk and laughing, completely oblivious to the fact that the Devil himself is driving past them with a kidnapped woman in his passenger seat.
I might seem quiet and calm, but inside I’m screaming.
"You're quiet," he says without looking at me.
I don't know what he expects me to say.Thank you for kidnapping me?Great job shooting those federal agents?
"I'm thinking," I finally manage.
"About?"
About how my life became a nightmare in the span of thirty minutes. About how my father's cowardice means I'm now property of the Russian mafia. About how the man sitting next to me said he's beenwaitingfor me, like I was always meant to end up here, in this car, with blood on his hands and my future in his grip.
"About whether you're going to kill me," I say.
He glances at me then, just for a second, and those black eyes catch the neon glow from outside. "No."
"My father, then."
"Yes."
I wrap my arms tighter around myself.
Three more semesters. That was the plan. Graduate, take the licensing exam, get a job that didn't smell like grease and desperation.
Now I'll be lucky if I survive the week.
"You brought a lot of books," Renat observes. We're stopped at a red light now, and he's studying me like I'm a puzzle he can't quite solve.
"My textbooks." The words come out bitter. "For school. Not that it matters anymore."
"You're studying to be a dental hygienist."
I twist to stare at him. "How do you—"
"I've been watching you for three weeks, Ava." The light turns green, and he accelerates smoothly, weaving between slower cars. "I know what time you wake up. I know you work the dinner shift at Maurice's diner four nights a week and attend Phoenix Community College online the other three. I know you haven't been to see your mother and sister since your father disappeared because you're afraid of drawing attention to them."
Ice spreads through my chest. Three weeks. He's been stalking me for three weeks and I never noticed. Never saw him in the shadows, never felt his eyes on me.
"I know you eat the same thing for lunch every day," he continues, his voice still that same flat, emotionless tone. "Turkey sandwich, apple, bottle of water. You're saving money. Probably to pay for school, since your father obviously isn't providing anymore, despite coming into hislittlewindfall."
My throat closes up. I can't breathe. Can't process the fact that this stranger knows more about my daily life than my own mother does.
"I know you're afraid," he says, quieter now. "I've watched you check the locks on your door three times every night. Watched you time escape routes. Watched you look over your shoulder so many times that I'm surprised you don't have whiplash."
"Stop," I whisper.
He doesn't stop. "I know you're angry. At your father, at the situation, at knowing this was coming, and that no matter what you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop it. I've watched that anger eat at you, watched it turn you into someone who packs a go-bag and keeps her passport ready because she knows, deep down, that running might be her only option."
