Page 5 of The Crimson Lily
I sigh too, exaggeratedly, with a little chuckle. “It’s a bit of my business if I’m coming with you!”
I shouldn’t have said that. Maksim’s eyes catch a silver flare, and he almost scowls at me. His glare grips me at my throat. I’m no longer uncomfortable; I’m startled.
Not knowing what else to do, I continue talking, figuring I must say something random to ease the mood again.
“Is it your job to…beat people?” I find it hard to say that last part, so my voice flutters a little.
What kind of question is that? What the hell has gotten into me? I’m so afraid of his reaction that it feels as if I fuse with the plane’s window, pressing my body against it so I am as far away from him as possible.
“Sometimes,” he answers and looks away.
Phew! I keep on staring at him with protruding eyes. It hits me, crazily enough, how handsome he actually is. He has a perfect jaw, adorned with a day-old stubble that gives him thisdangerous look. A smirk is drawn on his face, one that, I swear, I’d die to kiss, should the circumstances be different. Wait, what the hell are you thinking, Liliana? The staring has become too weird. He looks away from me and reclines in his seat. The man sitting next to him by the aisle really has no idea what’s going on. It makes me chuckle again. The whole situation is extremely amusing—the fact I’m sitting next to a Bratva associate and the other guy doesn’t have a single clue!
I take off my jacket and sink into my seat in turn. I close my eyes, focusing on the movements of the plane as it rapidly soars into the sky. Oh, I haven’t been on a plane since the accident, but it feels so familiar. I’m relaxed, not anxious like someone who would be flying for the first time. I must have flown regularly in my previous life.
“Do you fly a lot?” I impulsively ask my traveling partner. I’m not even aware I’ve asked the question until after I’ve asked it.
“Yes.”
At this point, I’m too curious. I really want to know more about this stranger. I want to know who he is, what he does, why he does it. He is a silent puzzle, a mystery to solve. And I can never let a mystery sit quietly.
“What else do you do?” I inquire hesitantly, though resolute to get an answer.
In response, Maksim does everything but what I expect. He raises his right arm to the panel above him and rings for the flight attendant. I don’t know what’s going on, so I simply follow his movements with wide eyes and parted lips.
“Can I do something for you, sir?” the attendant, a young woman with pure blond hair and bee-stung lips, asks Maksim.
“I’d like a seat in business class,” he declares.
The girl first seems hesitant. She looks at me, then at the other man next to us. She goes away for a minute, and against her own expectations, returns with a big smile on her face.
“Follow me, sir,” she says with a welcoming voice, like escorting him to business class is the only thing that makes sense—as if him even being here was nothing but an error.
How cheeky! I can’t believe it. He’s actually leaving me. I’m not sure how to feel about this. I mean, he could just ask me to shut up, if that’s what he wants. He doesn’t have to turn this into a show. The man next to us is looking at me, probably asking himself what sort of strange couple we are. Maksim stands up and leaves for the freaking business class. He doesn’t even look back at me, even though he doesn’t really owe me that, but I still feel annoyed about it. Perhaps because something inside me wants him to stay. Now I’m alone again with my thoughts and the reality that I am headed to Paris on a mission for the Bratva.
I don’t even have an idea of what use I’ll have for them. I’ve bluffed so far. I remember the dagger, the safe…but exactly how to open the safe? I still need to figure that one out. What if that memory never comes back? I would be discarded. I would be thrown into the Seine and forgotten about. The name of the Paris river just popping into my head reassures me a little. There is a chance the memory would return, but panic is already branching through my veins again. I’m alone, and the man two chairs from me has already fallen asleep. I’ve had this constant feeling of numbness, the one that led me to JFK Airport to board a plane to Paris. Now that I’m actually on the plane, I’m frozen. I’m afraid of where this mission will take me. I just don’t want to die.
Call Béatrice, now!
I snap awake. The plane’s lights are off and everyone is sleeping around me, but that name goes round and round in my head, like a mental note I made that’s screaming at me. Call Béatrice. I close my eyes again, holding on to the memory of that name.
You have to call Béatrice now, Liliana, now!
Just like Alejandro, Béatrice is now a new ghost of my past. A revenant among my thoughts. Only this time, I remember her face. I remember her eyes and hair. I remember her name. Béatrice Leclerc, my one and only best friend.
3
Béatrice. Right before the accident, I made a mental note to call Béatrice Leclerc. I’m two months late. The plane’s lights turn on and wake me up. The pilot announces that we’ve started our descent. I check the still-empty seat next to me, then move my gaze to the man who has snored louder than a plane engine all the way here. He opens his eyes, smiles at me, then stops smiling when he notices how terrible I look. He can probably see how tired and overwhelmed I feel. He says nothing.
Out of the plane, my head is buzzing. The migraine is back. I just want to lie on the nearest bench and sleep. Ah, there is Maksim, waiting by the exit of the tunnel back to our plane. He’s been waiting for a long time, Mr. Business Class.
“Good morning!” I cheer way too loudly as I walk up to him. “Sleep well?” My smile is definitely forced.
He smirks at me. “Not bad, how about you?”
I shrug and don’t make a peep until we get to the luggage belt. I’m distracted by everything that’s going on in Charles de Gaulle Airport—the crowd, the noise, the colors. When I see my oversized suitcase, I jump on my feet and go for it. I pull the handle all the way out and turn to Maksim.
“So, where are we going?” I ask.
