I don’t think so.
A bird loudly chirps nearby, and Caleb pulls away with an embarrassed look before leading me farther down the pathway. I’m still determining whether or not I’m disappointed when he suddenly pulls out his phone, taps the screen, and then puts it back in his pocket.
“Have somewhere to be?”
“What?” He blinks. “Oh. No. Just curious how late it’s gotten, that’s all.”
Suddenly, my positive mood begins waning. He’s gone from prolonging the date to wanting it over? I tell myself he’s continuing to be a gentleman and is concerned over the time, considering we both have to be at work by eight tomorrow morning, but I don’t have to like it.
His pace increases, and I’m about to suggest we end this and he drop me off at my apartment. He’s obviously in a rush, so continuing the date seems pointless—especially in an environment that has me nervous as is. No point in prolonging this pain. It’s turning into a disappointing ending to an otherwise nice night.
Maybe this is whyniceisn’t enough.
I swat the inner voice away and am about to make my suggestion when he abruptly snatches my hand, tugging me closer. We’re reaching a slight bend in the path, and he pulls us to a stop by the closest bench, shielded by two thick tree trunks.
“Let’s sit.”
His whiplash confuses me.
I sit, but he remains standing, his hands rubbing his thighs, gaze darting around.
“Caleb—”
Crack.
Caleb’s gaze darts to the tree and down the path, and my stomach sinks. A prickle runs down my spine over the noise that should merely be an animal scurrying over fallen sticks and twigs. He steps back, his expression pinching with sorrow, and I realize then with a chilling sensation I should have listened to my gut in the car and denied the walk.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Katya. I had to. For her.”
Her?
A figure steps out from the trees on my right, his large build a shadow itself. Everything inside me tenses while my legs scramble to find strength to stand, to run, especially now while the man—whoever he is—faces Caleb. I have no fucking clue what’s happening, but I suspect needing to runnow.
He tosses something at Caleb, who catches the shiny object, tucking it away. The streetlight catches it at just the right angle to reveal it’s a key. The man rattles off an address, but it’s his voice that stuns me.
I know that voice.
“If I were you…” His slithery voice churns my insides with old threats, old fears. “I wouldn’t wait too long. My men get bored easily.”
Caleb bobs his head in quick succession and casts a final glance towards me. Before I make out his expression, he spins on his heel and takes off, disappearing almost instantly.
“People are so easy to bribe,” the man croons, turning to me, forcing me to face my past.
“Next time, take my money.”
Ivan Volkov stands before me, his body cast in both the shadows from the trees and the moon, but I also know he, too, is a shadow of pure evil. When he paces forward, he kicks down a few levels of my wall, sending a rush of emotions—namely fear—over it.
It’s been ten years since last seeing him—since graduation, when he offered money in exchange for leaving his son, but I didn’t take the deal. Ten years since last hearing him speak, when he whispered those fateful words in my ear. Ten years of working through the traumaheforced onto me, of endless therapy that even the sound of his voice sends me tripping into the horrors I’ve been fighting for control against.
The years passing are apparent in his body. His wrinkles have become prominent with age, his skin shallower than I remember, and his body thinner. Regardless of my self-defence training, he has decades of Bratva life versus my few months of mixed martial arts, of strength and knowledge I’ve yet to discover.
I’m fucked.Just like that night, I won’t be able to fight this. I’m not good enough. Not then, not now.
While I study him, he’s doing the same to me, his lips curling in the corners by the time they reach my feet. “Katya Terasov, you’ve grown up. Much less…broken…than when I last saw you.”
You’re sick.
But he’s a sick individual who’s seemingly alone, and no matter the reason he’s chosen now to reappear in my life, it doesn’t mean I’m the same girl he ruined back then. I won’t be waiting around for danger to smack me in the face again. If not to physically fight, then to use speed on my side.