Page 35 of The Pakhan's Secret Baby

But it could also be our way out—if we survive this.

We move up the sidewalk with the gun between my shoulder blades.

We're only a few strides away from the door when I trip, and the tattooed man shoves me forward mercilessly.

Lex whimpers and clings to me but he's thankfully stopped his crying.

Who knows how scared he is if he can sense I'm scared too.

I stop by the door and fish in my pocket past the necklace for the key, as the men hover around me with their weapons brandished and glares on their faces. "Hurry up," the driver growls, "we don’t have all fucking day."

"I can't even hold my hands still because you're scaring me. Back off so I can think." Living in this world has given me an edge. Something this drastic has never happened before, but Batya has taught me to stand up for myself.

At my bark the men give me a little more space, and I'm able to get the key in the lock and push the door open, but Batya isn't here.

His chair is pushed back from the table and his bottle is there, half full, cap off. But his coat is gone from the hook by the door.

"Where is he?" the tattooed man asks as they force me in.

I stumble forward, still clutching Lex, but now I'm feeling frantic.

Batya is my safe space, and if he's not here, who's going to protect me from these sick bastards?

"I don't know. He was here when I left this morning. I swear I don't?—"

He sweeps everything off the kitchen counter with one arm. Dishes shatter on the tile and Lex screams again.

I turn away, curling my body around my boy as the tattooed man grabs my shoulder and spins me back. "Look at me. Where did he go?"

"He doesn't tell me things." I'm trembling, shaking so bad I think I may drop Lex. "He's a grown adult. When I'm out he does what he wants." I back away, putting space between me and the men, but my gut is churning. They could kill me right now and no one would ever know who did it.

"She's lying," the second man says from up the hallway in Batya's bedroom. He's already pulling drawers out of the dresser and dumping them on the floor.

"I'm not lying. I've been gone. How am I supposed to know where he is?" I'm talking too fast. It makes me look guilty, but I can't stop. "Please, just leave. I don't know what you came for but I can't give you anything. We have nothing." The less they know about me and what I know about them the better.

"Search it," the tattooed one says, jerking his chin. "All of it."

The men start destroying the house. They rip open the couch cushions and smash holes in the walls, then turn out the kitchen cupboards and drawers.

When they are finished looking everywhere there’s not a speck of floor visible.

It's all a wreckage of their search, and I’m left cowering in the corner with a sobbing infant.

"Your father's a very stupid man," the tattooed one says. He picks up Batya's bottle and reads the label, then sets it back down. "Cheap vodka, cheap apartment, cheap life. And he thinks he can steal from Gusev."

I unzip Lex's snowsuit and pull it down, kissing his round cheeks that are hot with sweat from his fit, and try to soothe him. I can't focus and my brain feels like danger is going to consume me at any second. "Hey, sweet boy," I whisper. "Mommy's here... shhh."

When they return from trashing our bedrooms, one of them has a small satchel that I know Batya keeps for emergencies.

The man unzips it and dumps the contents on the kitchen table.

Stacks of bills scatter across the surface along with three passports and a folded map—the new identities Batya paid for with the money he stole from these people.

He fans through the cash and stuffs everything back into the bag, then zips it shut.

He slings it over his shoulder like he owns it, and I know my chance of getting out of this town and away from the mess my father's made is gone. "You tell your father, I want every penny he stole from Mr. Gusev or the three of you die. He has one week."

I'm trembling so badly I can't even speak. I have to lean on the wall to support my legs so I don't collapse. The man putsa phone on the table and taps it. "Tell him to call the number programmed here, and tell him not to be late. We won't be so nice next time."