Page 41 of Sexting the Silverfox

“Yes, Miss Fedorova,” Andrei replies.

I leave them both outside my door and lock myself in my room. Taking deep, measured breaths, I get out of my clothes and jump into a hot shower. Letting the water stream down my body, I take my time to scrub the day’s events out of my skin.

Once I’m squeaky clean and my muscles feel mildly relaxed, I pat myself dry and slip on a pair of silk pajamas. The minibar is loaded, so I help myself to some salty and sweet treats, washing everything down with orange juice while I turn the TV on.

A distraction is exactly what I need. Something to keep my mind off Jason.

And Lily. I’m going to miss that sweet girl. She’s so smart and surprisingly mature for her age; then again, so was I, growing up without a mother. Life is rarely fair, but we learn to adapt, we learn to push through. I think Lily is going to be all right in that sense. With a father like Jason guiding her, I believe she will become a powerful and dangerous woman in the best way possible.

I would’ve liked to have been able to say a proper goodbye to both Lily and Rita. But it’s all in the past now. Something else that I must leave behind.

My thoughts soon pull me away from the waking world, and I fall asleep with the TV on and a few empty treat bags discarded on the nightstand. My dreams are a greyish haze, familiar faces popping in and out of my frame as I try to find my way back to them. I keep running toward Jason, calling out to him, but I can’t hear my own voice, even as I scream.

A loud thud has me sitting up, briefly wondering if I’m still asleep.

The darkness of my hotel room, its impersonal designs flaring out wherever the moonlight strikes through the window, reminds me of where I am and what I’m doing here. Did I dream the thud, or did the thud wake me? I’m not sure, but I am compelled to get out of bed and check. The room itself seems clear of danger.

Footsteps echo somewhere nearby. They sound rushed.

“Get him!” I hear Yuri shout.

My heart jumps. Immediately, I grab my phone and try to call Anton while simultaneously looking through the peephole. I can’t see anyone, but the hallway is generously lit. There’s no answer, but my instincts are ignited and exceptionally sharp.

I poke my head out through the door just in time to spot Yuri and Andrei drawing their weapons at the end of the hallway, close to the elevators.

The sound of muffled gunshots makes the blood rush through my body as Andrei is the first to fall, taking two rounds to the chest. Yuri tries to hold them off—whoever they are—but there are so many bullets flying out of guns fitted with silencers that my feet start doing my thinking for me.

I run out of the room and in the opposite direction, slipping through the fire escape door. I’m barefoot and still in my pajamas, phone in hand and my heart in my throat as I glide down the stairs. The same door I left through opens and shuts again. They’re coming after me. I can hear their boots thudding, each step bringing them closer.

All I can do is run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I slip through the hotel’s service entrance, damn near tackling an incoming concierge on my way out. “Sorry!” I mumble and keep running.

“Hey, watch it!” the guy shouts back.

I take a left turn at the end of the alley. I need to steer clear of the main streets. It’s late at night, it’s cold and damp, and I need to get somewhere safe until I figure out what I’m going to do next, until I can get a hold of Anton, at least.

My mind is rushing every which way until I reach a corner store. I’m panting, the cool air making my tired lungs burn, but I’m still not safe. I’m off the boulevard, however, and whoever is after me hasn’t caught up just yet.

I remember that I’ve got a ride sharing app installed on my phone. With trembling fingers, I use it to call a car to my location, grateful I had the wherewithal to grab my phone when I ran out of my room. I keep looking around, ignoring all the curious looks from the late-night passersby.

Two minutes later, a grey Prius pulls up, its plates matching the ones in my app.

I get in the backseat and give the driver the first address that pops into my head. As the car drives off, I see them coming up to the corner, not that far behind on my trail. Four men dressed in black. I recognize one from his temple scar, but the others are unfamiliar.

They don’t see me in the back of the Prius, and I slide down into my seat for good measure, worried that my heart might explode from what just happened. They came into the hotel with loaded weapons and silencers; they more than likely killed both Andrei and Yuri.

Even after two years of being away, my survival instincts are still sharp as a razor’s edge. It’s one of the few times when I’m actually proud to be a Fedorov because I know how to react when someone is literally gunning for me.

They’re still out there, scattering across the street, angrily searching for me.

Jason’s apartment building seems eerily calm, clad in darkness, with only the streetlights casting an amber tint across the brick façade. For safety reasons, however, I instruct the driver to drop me off around the corner but only after we circle the block once so I can make sure there’s no one watching Jason’s place. The driver likely has questions, but he keeps them to himself, not minding the extra mile since it means a pricier charge at the end of the trip.

I get out of the car half a block down and choose to walk the rest of the way. Once again, I look over my shoulder and thank the stars that this is a residential neighborhood and that the street is practically empty at this late hour.

I go around the back of the building and punch in the access code, thankful—yet surprised—that Jason hasn’t changed it.

Once I’m inside the building, I linger in the darkness of the stairwell for a while, struggling to catch my breath. My heart can barely handle all of this fear and anxiety. I try calling Anton again. Still, no answer. I’m starting to get worried, wondering if they were able to get to me because they got to my brother first.

---