“Where is he going?”
Mischa fiddles with the cigarette between his fingers, tapping it against the end of his thumb before flipping it over and repeating the action all over again. He’s reluctant to answer, and it makes me fidgety.
“He’s going to help his brother.”
“He’s been helping his brother for weeks. What makes this time any different?”
Mischa stuffs the cigarette back into the pack and sits down on the sofa. He says he came to check on me, but really, he came to deliver the message that Nikolai didn’t want to give me himself.
“Please tell me,” I insist. “What’s happening? Is he okay?”
Mischa leans back against the sofa, kicking his leg up and tapping his foot on the coffee table. “Against my advice, Nikolai is going to help his brother track down Talia’s former captor. It’s a dangerous place where they’re going, and there are only the two of them. There’s a possibility he might not make it back.”
I make an effort to reply, but nothing comes out of my mouth.
Mischa nods. We are both quiet while I process. I haven’t even looked at Nikolai in weeks, but the idea of losing him siphons every bit of warmth from my body.
“He could have said goodbye.” I swipe at the anger leaking out of my eyes.
Mischa barks out a laugh. “And give you the chance to push him away again? That isn’t his style, Nakya.”
“I didn’t push him away,” I argue. “It’s him. He’s the one who won’t make a choice. He could have avoided this.”
Mischa shakes his head. “It was never his choice to make. And if you don’t know that by now, then you will never survive in this world.”
“If you love someone, then you find a way. It might not be easy, but you can if you want to. And it has become clear to me that Nikolai doesn’t want to.”
“That is only what a hypocrite would say,” Mischa observes.
“I am not a hypocrite. You told me yourself I had to get away.”
“Riddle me this, princess.” He leans forward, humoring me with unrestrained animosity. “How do you believe this fantasy relationship of yours would work? You would go back to being a dancer, and Nikolai could paint pictures of flowers and ponies while traveling around the world with you?”
“Of course not. I know it wouldn’t be like that—”
“There is the small matter of having a bounty on both of your heads to consider. In addition to the fact that no matter where in the world you went, you wouldn’t be safe. But you don’t think about these things in your fantasy, do you?”
“I’m not ignorant,” I choke out. “I know it isn’t that easy.”
Mischa softens, the way he always eventually does. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”
I fall onto the couch beside him, attempting to contemplate a world where Nikolai doesn’t exist. But I can’t. And I don’t know how it happened. One minute, he was stealing me away from my life, and the next, I was falling in love with him. There are so many complications between us that we can never overcome. His impending marriage. My impending death. His desire to murder my father. Every possible card is stacked against us, but still, I would fight for it if he did too.
“You know what it’s like to lose your mother,” Mischa interrupts my thoughts.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“He lost his mother too, you know. His entire life, he’s been told that she walked away from him. Nikolai is good at holding onto things. He’s good at pushing people away before they can hurt him like that again. It’s why he’s so quick to believe the worst in people. It’s why he will turn on you when you least expect it.”
“If you’re trying to convince me that he’s not good for me, you can save your breath. I already know these things.”
“I’m not trying to convince you of anything,” he says. “I’m just telling you that until you, his relationships were nonexistent. You were the first woman to get under his skin. If nothing else, you should know that it does mean something.”
I offer him a weak smile, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
“I know that I need to go,” I tell him. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help me out with that again?”
“After what happened last time?” He shakes his head. “Not a snowball’s chance in hell. Besides, he would definitely know it was me this time.”
I shrug. “Fair enough, I suppose.”
He gives me a sideways glance. “You’ll figure something out. I’m sure of it.”
During Nikolai’s absence, it has come to my attention that there is a two-hour gap throughout the day in which I’m alone with Nonna. At all other times, there is a Vory appointed guard loitering throughout the house. One who doesn’t speak or dare to look at me.
Mischa drops in usually every other day, but his visits are unpredictable. My window of opportunity is a small one. Since Nonna has the house locked up tighter than usual, I’m not able to get to the office to use the phone. So I have two options. Either the guard, or Mischa. I’ve been studying their every move, attempting to predict the most opportune moment. But when it finally presents itself, I’m not prepared at all.
It happens on a Sunday, in the morning, on the happenstance occasion that I cut my time in the gym short because my ankle is bothering me. Nonna always comes to lock up when her timer goes off, so I don’t bother to alert her. But when I leave the room, I bump into the guard as he’s racing toward the bathroom.
He looks like hell, and it’s apparent that he had no consideration for his duties this morning because he still reeks of alcohol from the night before. The bathroom door slams behind him and the sound of his retching follows me down the hall.
I’m content to continue on my merry way until I notice that he left his things behind on the sofa. Specifically, his cigarettes, some change, and a phone.
I glance back at the door down the hall. He could be in there for a while. This could be my only opportunity. Or it could backfire spectacularly. Either way, I know I have to try.
I scoop up his phone and dart into the closet, huddling into the corner among the coats, hoping I can be quiet enough. My fingers tremble as I dial Gianni, and it seems to ring for an eternity before he picks up.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” I whisper. “I need your help. Can you get me out of here?”
He’s quiet for a beat, and I hear shuffling on the other line as he moves somewhere so he can talk. “Tanaka?”
“Yes. Please, Gianni, I don’t have long. I need your help.”
“I can’t come to his house. I’ve been trying to get to you another way, but you’ll need to get out on your own first.”
“How?” I hiss. “That’s not going to happen. I’ve already tried.”
“You have to, Tanaka,” he implores. “I can’t come there. It’s too risky. Too much surveillance. You need to get out first. Just get as far away from the house as you can, and I’ll come for you.”
I want to scream out my frustration, but down the hall, the toilet flushes. “When, Gianni?”
“Tomorrow,” he answers. “With Nikolai gone, I don’t trust that you have much longer.”
I’m not sure how he knows that Nikolai is gone, but he’s right. I don’t trust that I’m safe here any longer, and I know that this is the only way to save both of us.
“You have to be close by,” I tell him. “It’s the only way.”
“I’ll be close,” he assures me. “Just get out of the house, and I’ll come for you.”
Down the hall, the faucet turns off.
“I have to go,” I whisper. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Gianni agrees.
I press the end button frantically and race to delete the call but it’s too late to return the phone. The bathroom door opens, and when he walks down the hall, his shadow passes over the crack in the closet door.
There’s some rustling and a low curse in Russian before he’s walking back down the hall to the bathroom. I bolt from the closet as quietly as I can manage and run toward the sofa, stuffing the phone into the crack between the cushions.
I won’t have time to make it back up the stairs, so I run back to the gym. I barely have time to swing my leg up onto the barre before the guard pauses at the door, peering in. His eyes are narrowed, full of suspicion, but he doesn’t voice it. I return his gaze, desperately hoping I’m not giving anything away. After two of the longest seconds in my life, he goes back to the sitting room. I wait for five breaths before peeking around the corner to watch him from the door.
After some digging, he retrieves his phone from the cushions and shakes his head, flopping onto the sofa. I collapse against the wall and gulp my next breath of air.
Tomorrow.
I just have to make it to tomorrow.