Page 122 of Voracious

I have a dad now, uncles, a family.

That means I’m a person.

My voice doesn’t come out and she smiles wider as my vision blurs. A scream rips from my throat, seeing the gun in her hand and I trip over my own feet as I run towards Dima.

“No!”

I stop on the last step as she raises it and points it at him.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” I beg, nodding.

Dima’s head snaps up at the sound of my voice, but I don’t look at him. If I do I’ll break, this way I’ll be fine. He’ll be alive and happy, so I’ll be fine. If he’s here, he told everyone else.

I have family, they’ll help him.

He’s friends with them, they’ll help him.

They care about him, they’ll help him.

She looks at the gun in my hand and I throw it against the wall so it’s out of reach as I plead with my tormentor.

“Let him go and I’ll do whatever you want. Promise.”

Ants, so many ants, crawling over my skin as she takes a step closer, and Dima tries to get me to shut up.

“I’m not leaving, kill me.”

Anton is passed the fuck out on the floor in a pool of blood, but Yulia has a gun and it’s pointed directly at Dima. I can’t move, her finger is on the trigger. The sweet point and a tiny bit of pressure will kill him.

Her voice makes it worse, and I force my shoulders not to move as she snarls, “I told that bastard you would ruin everything.”

My head nods, I don’t why I’m doing it again, agreeing with the shit she spews when I don’t believe it.

“Take your knife,” she says lightly, smile widening, “and slit your throat, then I’ll let him go.”

Dima moves and I look at him as she squeezes the trigger. No, he can’t die. His shoulder is pushed back as I scream and my body shakes, knowing if I move she’ll make me do it, she’ll make it my punishment for disobeying her.

He doesn’t stop moving until Yulia points another gun at me.

There’s blood soaking through his t-shirt, dark patches against the dust from the scuffle, but the pain in his eyes isn’t physical as he looks at me and grits, “Don’t you fucking dare do it.”

I have to, he was supposed to be safe.

“Vanya! Don’t!”

Cool metal touches my neck, I don’t remember moving my hand.

His shout has Yulia’s attention, her hand shaking on the gun pointed at me until she drops it and focuses solely on him.

No. It needs to be on me and my throat burns, trying to get it back.

“Look. I’m doing it, let him go first. I’ll do it, I promise.”

The blade digs into my skin, slowly parting it without enough pressure for it to kill me.

He has to be safe first or she’ll kill him.

Dima ignores her as though she won’t kill him and turns to face me. There are tears in his eyes and he’s not close enough to touch but he still tries. His arm stretched out as he begs, “Let me be selfish, lisichka, kill her not yourself.”

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