The question hangs in the air like smoke. Aleksandr's expression doesn't change, but something flickers in those gold eyes. Guilt, maybe. Or just calculation.
"No." Danil's voice is gentle, which somehow makes it worse. "No hit was put on them. Only you."
"Only me." I laugh, and it sounds slightly hysterical. "Well, that's comforting."
"None of our people touched them," Danil adds, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror.
The relief that floods through me is so intense, it's almost painful. My parents are alive. They're safe. At least there's that.
"Thank you," I whisper.
Aleksandr shifts in his seat, and I catch the movement of his broad shoulders beneath his jacket.
The silence stretches as we drive, broken only by the hum of the engine and the occasional comment from Danil about road conditions. I zone out, watching the landscape blur past. Snow-covered fields give way to small towns, their windows glowing warm against the darkness. Normal people living normal lives, completely unaware that a car full of criminals is passing through their quiet streets.
What would they think if they knew? Would they call the police? Would they even believe it?
My mind spins in circles, trying to process everything. Trying to find some angle, some way out of this nightmare. But every path leads back to the same conclusion. I'm trapped. Completely and utterly trapped.
"We need to stop for gas," Danil says, breaking into my thoughts. "And I could use some coffee."
"There's a station up ahead," Aleksandr replies. His voice is all business now, no trace of the man who held me in the cabin. "Make it quick."
The gas station appears like an oasis of fluorescent light in the darkness. Danil pulls up to a pump, and the sudden stillness after hours of driving feels surreal. Through the windows, I can see a bored attendant behind the counter, scrolling through his phone.
So close to help. So impossibly far.
"I'll pump," Aleksandr says, already opening his door. "Danil, get whatever we need inside. Coffee, food, whatever."
"Got it, Boss." Danil climbs out, stretching with an audible groan.
I reach for my door handle, desperate to escape the confined space, to use the bathroom, to breathe air that doesn't smell like tension and testosterone.
"Where do you think you're going?" Aleksandr's voice stops me cold.
"The bathroom," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "Unless you'd prefer I piss in your backseat."
A muscle tics in his jaw. For a moment, I think he might actually say yes, might keep me locked in this car like a prisoner. Then he jerks his head toward the building.
"Fine. Go."
I scramble out before he can change his mind, my legs stiff from sitting so long. The cold air hits my face like a slap, sharp and clarifying. I'm halfway to the door when a hand closes around my upper arm.
Aleksandr.
He spins me around, and suddenly, we're chest to chest. Close enough that I can see the gold flecks in his eyes, the shadow of stubble along his jaw. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body and to smell the scent of him that's become dangerously familiar.
"Don't even think about running." His voice is low, deadly. Not a warning. A promise.
My heart hammers against my ribs. "I need to use the bathroom."
"I know what you need." His grip tightens, not enough to hurt but enough to remind me exactly how strong he is. How easily he could break me if he wanted to. "I also know what you're thinking. That maybe you can slip out a back door. Flag down a car. Scream for help."
"I wasn't?—"
"Don't lie to me, Lena." He leans closer, and God help me, my body responds even as my mind recoils. "You've gotten good at a lot of things in the past three years, but lying to me isn't one of them."
I lift my chin, meeting his gaze even though everything in me wants to look away. "What do you want me to say? That I'll be a good little prisoner? That I won't try to save myself?"
