Page 6 of Shielded Secrets

It’d been years since I’d seen Jerome Parson, but I knew that nasally twang. Before I could catch myself, I gasped at the realization a person from my past had come back to me in my present. No one knew me on campus because I stuck to myself. Like that bartender had mocked, I never spoke up anymore, never bothered with small talk or reaching out to anyone. Eva was the only person I’d befriended here, and she was gone.

I was alone. I was painfully alone here, in the dark and trying to not move and attract Jerome’s attention as he drove his knife into the other man’s chest. With one hard stab, he speared his weapon into the guy’s body. Then he pulled it out and stabbed him again.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God!

Run. Just go. Get the hell out of here!

My instinct to fight or flee flared higher, and I chose the latter. I wouldn’t be entering this danger and clear violence this man from my past presented. I wouldn’t ever want to get closer to one of the guys who’d been a slightly older teen at one of the foster homes we’d both gone to.

Fleeing wasn’t so easy, though, not on this slick, slippery ice surface. My shoes slipped, and teetering too far to the side as I spun out, I had to circle my arms to maintain my balance.

Go. Just go!

I couldn’t look back to see if Jerome noticed me passing by. I couldn’t slow down to steady my steps on this slick surface. All I could do was run as hard as I could and pray I didn’t fall.

Whatever he was up to, I wanted no part of it. I wouldnotget involved with any violence, any murder.

Not again.

As I slipped away, my heart racing and banging wildly against my ribcage, I dared one single glance over my shoulder to determine which way to run. Fortunately, no one was after me. Jerome wasn’t chasing me down. No other people were within sight.

Go. Go. Go!

Gripped by panic, I didn’t stop until I was all the way back at my apartment. With fumbling fingers, I turned the locks after I burst inside my place.

Did he see me?

Why would Jerome be here?

Safe and alone—alone in a good way, for once—I sagged against the front door and closed my eyes tight. Experiencing this fear was one thing, but seeing it was another. I’d seen someone die before. I’d watched someone be killed before. And the consuming dread of that violence stayed with me. With the comforting blackness behind my squeezed-tight lids, I tried to catch my breath. Sucking in heaving inhales and wheezing deep gulps of air, I waited for my heart to slow. I was shaking, trembling from head to toe from how terrified I was.

Not only from seeing Jerome, a negative influence from my past who I never wanted to run into again, but also from the fact that he was killing someone.

Not just anyone.

A Petrov. I didn’t know many of them, and I wasn’t aware of their names. But from my time near Eva and seeing who she seemed to people watch, I got a good feeling for the most familiar ones. Which thugs were on Lev’s side. Which men were always sneering at them—men from the Petrov and Ilyin families. After Eva didn’t return last semester, I got worried about her and feared what could happen to her. That led me to snoop around online and on social media to give myself a crash course on the Mafia families of the area.

And tonight, I’d witnessed a guy from my past kill one of them.

I’d never believed in the terminnocent bystander, but I felt like I was trying to be one now.

“What could I do?” If I didn’t want to be a bystander and act on this, I was limited in what I could do. I couldn’t have intervened and tried to save that man from Jerome’s blade. That would’ve put me in the line of danger from an enemy from my past. Itwould’ve put me in danger, too, because I wasn’t skilled with self-defense or any other form of fighting.

“It’s not like I can call the cops.” I whispered it as I opened my eyes, feeling slightly calmer as I tried to rationalize my thoughts about it all. It had happened so suddenly in a blur that I needed this time to really think back and be clear-headed.

The security guards on campus wouldn’t be equipped to handle violence like that. There was no morgue on campus. But calling 911 for the so-called cops wouldn’t have solved anything, either. The police and the Mafia didn’t mix as far as I could tell.

But more than that,Ididn’t mix with the cops. I hadn’t in years, and if I could have it my way, I wouldn’t ever willingly be near them again.

Or I could call Eva…

She was involved in all things to do with the local Mafia scene. She was a princess, with her full troop of bodyguards and?—

“Rurik?” I wondered it aloud, with a wince. Unsure whether I could contact him, I debated again what my options were and how things could turn out. He’d given me his number way back when I’d first met Eva and established myself as her friend. But he hadn’t given me his contact info so I could get a hold of him myself. For my own needs.

I shook my head, talking myself out of the idea of contacting him.

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