Finn
The phone rings and Kovolov is on the other end.
“I appreciate the offer to pay you for whatever evidence you’ve procured,” he says, his voice calm, even a little smug.
I called and told him everything I knew. I told him to wire money in three hours to an overseas account, or I would send every scrap of evidence to the team of cops from which he hasn’t yet been able to purchase loyalty. He told me to give him an hour. He’d call me back to confirm the plan.
“I have your little whore here. Your little spy,” he says. “I’ll fuck her in the pussy, in the ass, in the mouth. I’ll come all over her and then I’ll wrap my hands around that gorgeous neck and I’ll squeeze. And I’ll watch her panic, watch her try to fight for her life. And when the light goes out in her eyes, I’ll leave her naked, violated body on the doorstep of your business.”
Words get caught in my throat as he speaks. I manage a growl and he chuckles.
“Bring me every stitch of information you two have stolen from me. Three a.m., Jane’s Carousel. You come armed, she dies. You bring cops, she dies. You do anything other than show up with the evidence, she dies. Then you die. Slowly and painfully, while watching me fuck her corpse.”
My animalistic noise earlier gave me away already. Damn, if only I could have played this cooler. Acted like I don’t care about her. Not that it would have bought her any extra time—he was already going to get rid of her, if the conversation I overheard in the diner was any indication.
“Your silence is killing me,” Kovolov says, his voice light and mocking. “Cat got your tongue?”
“How do I know you really have her?” I ask.
Kovolov says something in Russian. A moment later, I hear Selena’s voice on the line. “Finn, don’t come for me. Do what you need to do with the information. Just leave me and get out.” Her voice is shaky and she sniffles like she’s been crying.
“Now, now,” Kovolov says. “What would be the fun in that? Three in the morning. See you then.”
“I’ll be there,” I grunt, gritting my teeth so hard I think they might crack.
The line goes dead and I swear this is a long minute where all of the air gets sucked out of the room.
How did this go so wrong? I’m not a criminal, not really. I mean, I’ve done some things—necessary things—in order to get the money I’ve been owed. I’m no saint, but I’m also not a murderer. I’m not a rapist. I’m not dealing in arms or stolen art. I’m not paying off dirty cops. Maybe I was naïve to think I could extort millions from a guy who’s done all of the above and then some.
And not only that, I let myself get in deep with a mark. I let myself think I could walk away after I had my money, that I was just fucking her to keep her close, loyal.
I have stepped in it bigtime. The best I can hope for is to get out with my life, with Selena and her baby safe. I’d settle for the latter, if I could only pick one. What a surprise she has been. I marked her. At first, she was only the wife of a man who’d borrowed money and run. I meant to scare her, figured she’d find family or someone to loan it to her. But here I am now, ready to sacrifice myself just to get her free and safe.
How can I make this go my way? The way I’ve set up the business, I could liquidate my assets pretty quickly. My apartment’s on a month-to-month. I don’t have a thing holding me here. Not anymore. Maybe I could pull a pile of cash together today yet, get an untraceable car, find a way to get her away from him. We could run. Just get in the car and drive until we’re away from all of this.
Can I do that? Drop everything for a woman I hardly know? And a baby? For fuck’s sake, not even my baby. The thought isn’t so bad, really. Selena, glowing and round … that’s a sight I’d like to see. I’ve never thought of myself as father material, never even thought I’d ever want to go near a relationship, but here I am, envisioning me and Selena and a little kid, living quietly on some beach somewhere.
It’s crazy and, if my luck lately is any indication, probably a doomed plan—but I steel myself and get ready to get my woman and make a run for it.
***
Selena
“That boyfriend of yours is pretty fucking stupid,” Sergei says.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say for the umpteenth time. “My husband owes him money. He made me do all that stuff to get the money he says I owe him.”
“Was fucking him part of the payment?” he asks.
“Why do you care if I fucked him?” I ask.
This gets me a slap to the face. I close my eyes to keep from crying.
“This could have been good for you,” he says, grabbing my cheeks. I can smell alcohol on his breath as his face gets closer to mine. “Open your eyes, Selena. I want you to look at me, see what you’ve done to me. I could have made you a queen.”
“Did you say that to the last woman you hired?” I ask. “Where is she now?”
“You’ve got a pretty smart mouth for a woman who is about to die,” he says. “I meant what I told loverboy. I’m going to fuck you in every way possible. I’m going to cover your body in piss. I’m going to choke the light right out of your eyes. And then I’ll leave your body with him, so he’ll see just how it feels to be denied what he wants most.”
“He doesn’t care about me,” I say, trying desperately not to show fear. “He won’t come.”
“Oh, you’re wrong about that,” he says. “He’ll come, but he’ll be too late.”
He stands and goes to the door of his apartment, opening it and saying something in Russian to the two guys standing outside. One comes in and pulls a sack from his pocket, approaching me. I realize what he’s about to do and I scream but the guy is fast. He knocks me upside the head and everything goes dark.
I come to in a tiny room filled with mechanical gear. The room is circular. The floor is metal under my now bare feet. I’m tied to a chair, my dress slit up both sides to my hips. My hands and feet are bound. There’s a piece of cloth in my mouth.
There’s little light, only that which comes from the various buttons and levers on a large machine directly in front of me. I remember Sergei’s instructions to Finn. Jane’s Carousel. I think I must be inside the carousel, in the control room at the center of it.
The bad news? I’m tied up and alone inside a carousel. I have a raging headache and I’m dehydrated. I probably have a concussion. The good news? Sergei has done plenty of threatening, but I have not been raped or choked thus far today. He has not carried out his plans, nor do I think he means to. I think he is likely to try to kill Finn, even if he does bring all of the evidence. And I think he is likely to make my life a living hell, but I don’t think he’ll follow through on his threats on my life. After all, why kill me and leave Finn alive? Just to mess with him? To leave him scarred by my death? To what end? No, I think Sergei wants to own me, control me. He has exerted his position over me to put me in several degrading situations already; why not allow me to keep my life as long as I am on my knees for him when he wants me?
Maybe I am off base. And maybe it will all be a moot point, if Finn tries something crazy. Or if he doesn’t show at all.
I kind of hope he doesn’t show. I hope he walks away from this. Maybe he’ll give Sergei the evidence and then wash his hands of all of this.
This is not how I thought my life would turn out. Not at all. I married Matt and had these grand illusions about being a Wall Street wife. Trips, parties, shopping. It was all so surface. So meaningless. And it turns out, I barely even knew my husband at all.
It’s funny—when he left, I knew he was gone. He took some of his favorite items of clothing, a couple of books that had sat, dog-eared, on his nightstand. He didn’t take his business suits, or his briefcase. His laptop stayed, too. I called his mother after he’d been gone three days. She asked why I didn’t call the police, and then she called the police herself.
I was questioned but they determined that he had just left of his own volition. There was no reason to suspect foul play. And then, it was quiet. He was gone. His family went radio silent. And I was left with an apartment full of his things.
I don’t know why I’m thinking so much about Matt right now. It seems he should be the farthest thing from my mind, but for whatever reason, I wish I could have closure. I wish I could tell him that it’s okay he’s gone, that I will probably be better off without him. I wish I could thank him for giving me this child, the person I never I knew I needed in my life until I heard that fluttering heartbeat for the first time.
Tears stream down my face as I realize there’s a very real chance I might not make it out of this. That Finn might not come. That Sergei might indeed make good on his promises.
It’s hard to hear much from inside of this metal contraption, but Finn’s voice is unmistakable when he arrives. My heart leaps. He actually came for me. He has no reason to care, no reason to stick around for this, to put his life on the line. I mean, who am I to him? Just someone whose husband owes him money. Just someone he fucked a few times. But nonetheless, he’s here, and I feel a surge of hope.
Sergei’s is quieter, the quiet calm of a viper ready to strike. I can’t hear their words, just the muffled sounds of their voices. Calm. A chess game.
It feels like hours before the door to the small room opens. One of Sergei’s big minions comes in and unties me but keeps me gagged. He grabs me roughly by the arm and tows me out into the cool night.
Across the water, Manhattan sparkles, wide awake even at this late hour. Or early, I guess. I look around, disoriented. Sergei’s dark town car sits, a driver waiting inside. Another car sits nearby, the driver’s side door still open.
“See,” Sergei says, “She is alive.”
Finn holds an envelope, thick with all of the evidence I copied for him. “Let her go to my car. As soon as she’s inside, I’ll hand this to you and we’ll be square,” he says. “We’ll go away forever.”
“Oh, how sweet,” Sergei says with a vicious smile. “We. You and Selena and her unborn child,”
All of the air leaves my lungs. He knows about the baby? I look, wide-eyed, at Finn, as panic sets in.
He beckons with one finger and his henchman pulls me forward, closer to Sergei, who pulls me roughly against him, one hand at my breasts, one between my legs. His touch is rough as he holds me against the length of his body, my back to his front. I meet Finn’s narrow gaze, seeing the seething anger there.
“You think I didn’t know?” Sergei says into my ear. “You think I didn’t notice how sick you were? How your body changed? I watch you, Selena; I know you. You would have made a beautiful princess. We could have raised that child as the heir to a massive international company. He would have been a prince.”
“You are delusional,” I growl. “Fucking insane.”
“I’m a businessman. And I like pretty things. We could have made a nice business arrangement together. It would have worked for both of us. But now … no. Now you and your lover are going to be scattered across the five boroughs. First we’ll kill him here in front of you. Then I’ll take you home for a good fuck. Then I’ll kill you, too. It’s a waste, but there you have it.”
“You do an awful lot of talking,” Finn says.