Page 15 of Emerald Vices

“Stop.”

His gaze darts to Bujar, then Luca, then Cevdet, hoping for a reprieve or a punchline or maybe just a goddamn miracle.

He gets none of it.

When no one says a word, he swallows, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face. “I can’t tell them that.”

“Why not?” Luca barks.

“Because they’ll kill him,” I guess.

“Then the man is useless,” Cevdet decides. “Just kill him now and be done with it.”

“No!” Vargas cries, twisting in my direction. “No, don’t kill me. I’ll do it. I’ll take the message back to the head Halcones.”

But I sense the lie hidden behind those confident words. He’s got “runner” smeared across his face in big, bold letters. He’s exactly what Cevdet called him: useless.

Sighing, I raise my gun and shoot.

Vargas drops to the floor, his eyes glazed over in disbelief.

Luca steps forward and looks distastefully at the body. “I thought we were keeping him alive?”

“I was sick of hearing him blather,” I reply. “And besides: his body will carry the message just as well as his lips would have. Maybe better.”

7

NATALIA

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine.”

Remi cocks his head to the side and gives me a little bark that I roughly translate to mean, I’m on to you, woman.

Ignoring him, I peel back the covers and drag my sorry ass to the bathroom. He pads in after me, observing me with a cool gaze that feels entirely too human to belong to a dog.

I brush my teeth, wash my face, and twist around to find him still in the same position, staring at me with a skeptical expression. You need some serious help.

“They were just dreams, okay?” I insist to him. “Everyone has them.”

Although not everyone soaks the bed with sweat because of them. Not everyone wakes up shaking and screaming because of them. Not everyone has to clutch their support animal for dear life just to steal a couple more hours of disturbed sleep.

I drop down to my knees and press my forehead against Remi’s nose. “I know I was crazy last night, but… it’ll pass.”

Mhmm. Convincing.

“Stop,” I scold him. “I don’t need therapy.”

He licks at my fingers and I head back into the bedroom, my restlessness reaching an all-time high.

It’s not just my botched escape plan that’s bothering me. It’s all the relationships I managed to sever by leaving the way I did. They flap around me like cut threads, useless and dead.

Katya and I still haven’t spoken. Misha and I seem okay on the surface, but I know he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. Even the dog thinks I’m full of shit.

After I’ve changed into stretchy pants and a light sweater, I open my bedroom door to find Leonty sitting in the hallway on an uncomfortable-looking chair, his phone in hand.

He’s got dark circles under his eyes and crease marks down the side of his face. “Morning,” he yawns.

“Did you actually stay here all night?”

---