Page 29 of Arseni

“Somebody is counting on that money.It’svitalthat?—”

“Who?”

Who?

I swallow and resist the urge to look away, even as shame swarms me.“It isn’t important.”

“Then the cash isn’t important.”

“Yes, it… Arseni, please, I’m begging you.”I shift onto my knees and try not to hate myself as I clasp my hands together.“Please.Please.Just put the money back.I will doanythingyou say.I swear to you.”

His grin starts to slip.Maybe he doesn’t like the groveling as much as I thought.

When his arms cross over his chest, my teary, desperate eyes blur his image.

“Who are you afraid of?”he asks, genuine curiosity raising his pitch.“What could possibly be more pressing than your current situation?”

My mouth stays shut, though the answer comes immediately.I can’t tell him.I can’t tellanyonethe seriousness of this situation.

Arseni wants to hurt my body.He wants to get off on my pain, embarrassment, and shame.He can destroy my body if he chooses.

ButHim?He will destroy my very existence.He’ll ensure everyone I’ve ever known will go to their grave scorning my name.

When Arseni walks away, my tongue aches from biting it.I force my jaw to open and prepare to say out loud for the very first time what I’m afraid of.

“I have a stalker.”

Arseni stops but doesn’t turn around.

“He—he has things on me that could ruin my reputation if they ever came out.I pay him two thousand dollars every month for his silence.”

Hands sliding into his pockets, Arseni faces me.“What does he have on you?”

I shake my head.It was hard enough getting the first part out.Now my tongue feels swollen.

Arseni stares at me for several moments while I pray he’s considering it, as if God has any business granting me this reprieve from my mistakes.If there’s a God, he’s not letting me pass the gate.

Without a word, Arseni turns and heads for the stairs.I jump to my feet, my heart hammering.

“Arseni,please, I need this,” I cry out, walking until the chain jerks me back.He doesn’t slow down, taking the stairs until he’s out of sight.“Arseni!”

When the door to the basement slams, I stutter out one last plea, heard only by me and the other lost souls once chained just like I am.

I sit on the bed while staring at the cuffs that dangle from the ceiling.Beneath them is a large stain I can only guess is from blood.I studied it earlier, and just like then, it causes a phantom pain in my wrists.My back stiffens at the thought of a mystery instrument in one of the drawers slicing me.

I wish it wasn’t the least of my worries.

11

ARSENI

My front door is open when I get home.

That isn’t necessarily unusual.Sometimes Fox goes overboard with the weed, so it’s good to let a little air in every now and again.But I don’t see either of their bikes parked along the street, and it’s noon on Thanksgiving.They’re family people.They wouldn’t be here.

I step out of my car and pull my knife from my pocket while walking toward the door.It’s splintered like somebody kicked it open.

Awhackmakes me flick the knife open, but it’s only the neighbor kid.He’s beating a stick on the house to get my attention but stops when I lock eyes with him.I press my finger to my lips before continuing on, hairs raised on the back of my neck.

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