Madeline

 

A loud sound startled me awake. At first, I couldn’t make out what it was, but after a moment I realized there was a stream of light peeking through the door and sliding across the hardwood floors of my apartment. I hadn’t bothered to close the curtain that separated my impromptu bedroom from the rest of the place, so I could see clearly now that the reason there was unexpected light was that my door was open.

 

Panic swept me.

 

After the last few days, I’d realized there were very bad people out there. People who killed for money and maybe for fun. People who didn’t care about wrecking lives, so long as they got what they wanted.

 

What if this was one of those people now? I shuddered at the thought and tried to come up with a plan as to what I should do as I lay there huddled up in bed beneath the covers. I didn’t want to move in case whoever was there was just looking for stuff to steal—they’d quickly realize that my apartment had nothing of value and leave, I figured, so I’d be safer just pretending to be asleep. But as a shadow crossed over that sudden light, moving towards me, I realized they were definitely not looking for something to steal. No, in fact, they were headed straight for me.

 

My stomach clenched with panic and indecision. What should I do? Jump up and try to make a run for it? I heard the clomping of footsteps as whoever it was came closer and closer. Should I grab my bedside lamp or the clock and try to fight him off? He was getting closer and now I could hear almost ragged breathing.

 

Finally, I had decided that I would wait for him to move around to the other side of the bed, still hoping he was trying to look for stuff to steal, and then I would make a run for it. The door was still open, so maybe I could get to it and run screaming down the halls. If I attracted enough attention from my neighbors, maybe one of them would open the door and let me in, or at the very least call the cops.

 

I waited, pretending to be asleep. I forced my breathing to be even, though my heart pounded like a jackhammer in my chest. My muscles tensed and tried to cramp as I forced them to lie still, even though all I wanted to do was run.

 

Finally, he was getting close. He’d reached the edge of the bed—I couldn’t see him, but his shadow was long and the footsteps were heavy. I waited with baited breath to see if he would round the corner towards the closet, but he didn’t. A second later I felt his shadow cross over me completely, could hear him breathing much too near, and knew he was standing, hovering right over me as I lay in my bed.

 

My plan was shot down. He was on the wrong side of the bed and if I tried to run, he’d surely grab me. I’d have to fight him. I steeled myself as I prepared to make a grab for the lamp and hit him over the head with it. But before I got the chance, I felt his hands wrap around my upper arms and shake me awake. At the same time, he said, “Madeline? Wake up. We need to go.”

 

My eyes jerked open in surprise as I recognized whose voice that was. “Shawn? Oh, my god! You scared me half to death! I thought you were a burglar or a rapist or something.”

 

I thought maybe he’d laugh or tell me I was paranoid, but his gaze remained serious, worried. I thought there was a hint of fear behind his brown eyes and it sent a shiver of panic down through me again.

 

“What’s wrong?” I asked, glancing over at the clock at my bedside table. It was nearly three in the morning; he shouldn’t be here.

 

“We’ve got to go,” he told me again, and for the first time I realized that he didn’t look quite right. I reached over for the bedside table, fumbling for the lamp switch, then flicked it on once I’d found it. I gasped at what I saw.

 

There were scattered bruises marking Shawn’s jaw and neck, as though someone had wrapped their hands around his throat and squeezed. Maybe even tried to strangle him to death! “Oh god! What happened?”

 

His eyes were definitely filled with fear, I decided, and he was agitated, fidgety. Like he couldn’t sit still for fear of something finding him if he stayed in one spot for too long. He glanced over his shoulder, suddenly sure someone was behind him. He seemed to search my bare, tiny apartment for a full minute before turning back to me. “Do you know what’s going on with your brother?” he asked me instead of answering my question.

 

I blinked at him in surprise. “How do you know?”

 

He looked away guiltily, scratching at the back of his head. “Logan, uh, well, he asked me for help.”

 

I frowned at him. Help? When had they talked? I’d only just found out about what was going on! But then, I was Logan’s sister, not his friend and while Shawn had always been my best friend, we’d all spent a lot of time together. And in high school, Logan had gotten Shawn to do a lot of reckless, crazy stuff. I shouldn’t have been so surprised that he would have confided in him before me.

 

Especially if he’s done something wrong, I thought before I could stop myself.

 

Shaking my head, I said, “Did he tell you everything?” I wondered if he’d mentioned Nikolai.

 

For a moment, Shawn’s face was strangely blank. It was almost as though he were trying to wipe it clean so I wouldn’t be able to read his face and know what was really going on. But that was ridiculous; this was Shawn. He told me everything. But then I reminded myself that he probably thought the same thing of me, but wasn’t I keeping things from him?

 

The moment passed and Shawn finally answered me. “He told me enough. Enough to know that there’s some maniac out to get him. That Nikolai guy.”

 

I bit my lip. Falling asleep had given me a reprieve from all this crazy stuff and I’d been so grateful for it. Now that I was awake again, it all came crashing back. How my brother had told me to go into hiding. How Nikolai had looked so angry. How I had a terrible feeling that my brother really had done something awful—maybe even what Nikolai had accused him of.

 

Sleep had given me some rest and a break from all of it, but it hadn’t given me answers.

 

Before I could start to panic about what I would do, however, Shawn continued. “He’s crazy, Madeline. Crazy!” He grabbed me by the shoulders harshly and shook. It scared me a little bit and I found myself recoiling. He seemed to get a hold of himself, though, and released my arms with a quick apology. “Sorry, I just need you to know how bad things are. That you’re in danger.”

 

I winced a little. Things were bad, but I wanted to tell him they were bad for Logan. Yes, I was his sister and whatever he’d done had clearly pissed off the wrong people, but I wanted to tell Shawn that Nikolai wasn’t after me. I didn’t have anything to do with it and, in all honesty, I was certain that Nikolai, while he didn’t want anything more to do with me now thanks to my lie, wouldn’t come after me. Not even to get to Logan.

 

“We’ve got to get out of here. I ran into Nikolai—look what he did to me!” He gestured towards his neck and my eyes widened in horror.

 

Nikolai had done that? A sudden chill ran through me and I hugged myself. Although I knew he was a hit man, some part of me had been convinced he was somehow…not violent. It was stupid and naïve, but I wanted to believe he was some sort of noble bringer of justice. Seeing those bruises on Shawn’s face brought the truth crashing down around me.

 

He was nothing more than a terrible, murdering, violent man.

 

“He demanded to know where your brother was, but, Madeline, I wouldn’t tell him. I swear I wouldn’t! He was so angry, but I held my ground!” Shawn was speaking quickly, his eyes alight, his face flushed. “He told me he’d be back, that I had one more chance and when he was back I’d better tell him where Logan was, or I’d be dead.” He hesitated, looked me over in a strange way, then finally said the rest of his story. “He told me I had a chance to walk away from this, but Logan’s fate was sealed—and so was yours.”

 

My eyes widened in shock. What?

 

“What…what are you talking about?” I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.

 

“I’m saying,” he said impatiently, sounding almost annoyed with me, “that once Nikolai kills your brother, he’s going to kill you, too.”

 

I couldn’t believe it. I sat there staring at him, shock making me still even as my mind raced. Would Nikolai do that? No, was my immediate answer. Of course he wouldn’t. In fact, he had said earlier that I was his—he wouldn’t kill someone he believed belonged to him, would he? I didn’t think so, but then, I had told him that the baby wasn’t his. Was that enough to push him over the edge and decide I was better off dead?

 

A shudder raced through me.

 

Shawn got up from the bed and began moving around my room quickly. His eyes were wild with fright as he grabbed my suitcase from under my bed. He didn’t even look over at me as he began to grab random things out of my closet—dresses, pants, t-shirts, it didn’t matter, they all went in the same—as he said, “We’ve got to get out of here before he comes back.” He moved to my dresser and began riffling through my panties. I would have been offended, outraged even, except he wasn’t even seeing what he was doing. He was moving automatically, flinching at every sound, glancing over his shoulder in paranoia over and over again, as though expecting Nikolai to appear out of nowhere like a ghost or a vampire.

 

I didn’t want to believe Nikolai would harm me. I didn’t believe it, but seeing Shawn so afraid…well, that didn’t come from nowhere. And the bruises…Worst of all, I already knew for certain that Shawn was right about at least one thing: Nikolai was trying to kill Logan. That fact and Shawn’s fear leant him some credibility, not to mention the fact that we’d been friends for ages.

 

So I got myself out of bed and helped him pack. I threw on some clothes—I closed the curtain and made Shawn wait on the other side of it—and then together we made for the door. Part of me felt the sense that I was doing something reckless, probably stupid, but I couldn’t say why. In that moment, it was the only option that still made sense.

 

What else could I do?

 

We got into his car and Shawn drove. He took the first ramp onto the highway and drove east. I didn’t know the area well enough to know exactly where we were going. Though I’d been in the city for a while, mostly I just went to the college, a few coffee shops, then back to my apartment.

 

Turning to Shawn, who was gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, I asked, “Where are we going?”

 

He didn’t answer right away, just kept glancing in the rearview mirror as though Nikolai was right on our tail already. After a moment, he said, “A safe place. Somewhere that crazy Nikolai guy won’t come looking for us.”

 

I frowned and we both fell silent. I still wasn’t sure what to think. Some part of me just couldn’t believe Nikolai would want to kill me.

 

The rest of me remembered that he was a contract killer. Why wouldn’t he kill me?