Page 11 of The Crimson Lily
She falls silent. I can still hear her breathing, but she’s deep in thought.
“What do you remember now?” she eventually asks.
“I think I saw a man,” I begin, then hesitate, roll my tongue thirty-six times in my mouth, and continue. “I think he had something to do with all this.”
“In Paris?” she immediately inquires. “Lili, you’re not safe here, not alone.” She doesn’t let me say more. “Give me your hotel’s name, and I’ll send for a taxi. You’re staying with me.”
“No, no, no, Béa, I’m safe here,” I reassure her, multiple times. “I know I am.”
Do I? I don’t know how, but I have this constant feeling of safety in this room. I am sure, absolutely sure. But Béatrice isn’t.
“Trust me, Béa, I know what I’m doing,” I try to convince her. I reallydon’tknow. Well, maybe partially. “I’ll just…be careful and keep an eye out.”
Béatrice remains silent. I know what she’s thinking. That I’m being reckless. That I have to watch out. That I’d better leave this place and stay as far away as possible from the Bratva. But something tells me this isn’t the Bratva. Something inside me whispers, telling me this man I saw isn’t Russian mafia or evenconnected to them, and that I am actually safer with Maksim around me.
“Share your phone’s location with me,” Béatrice says out of my silence.
“What?” I have no idea how to do that.
“You have an Android phone.” She proceeds with instructions: “Go to your Google settings, location sharing, and share it to my email. I put it in your phone already.”
“Okay…” I put her on speaker and do as she says. I’m able to find the settings menu and her email address. I hear a beep on the other side shortly after I clickyes, yes, accept.
“I have it,” Béatrice announces.
“I set it on ten days.”
“I see,” she confirms. “Thank you, Lili. That way, I can keep tabs on you,” she says in this jocular tone that makes me smile. “Just be sure to always have your location on!”
“Yes, Mom!” I exclaim, and she laughs.
She blows a kiss through the phone, says goodbye, and hangs up. I must admit I feel even safer now, knowing that Béatrice will be around if something happens.
An idea pops into my head—and after watching a spy movie on Netflix the other day, the idea makes total sense. I head out of the hotel, go back into the Galeries to a beauty store, and purchase the simplest, cheapest hair dye package I can find. Black, the total opposite of blond. I just have to use it like shampoo, let it rest for ten minutes, then I will have black hair for about two days. Enough to survive the reception, which makes me feel quite anxious when thinking about it after today’s events. I jump in the shower, do as the package says, and come out with long and wavy midnight-black hair. I like that style. It makes me look…mysterious, and much different. If I cut it in a bob, I could even look like sexy Olga.
Knock, knock, knock.
I’m watching French TV when I hear a series of loud thumps. Déjà vu, much? I ignore it, hoping whoever’s behind the door will go away. I’m really not in the mood for visitors.
Loud thumps again.
“Darn it,” I say out loud.
I walk to the door, disconnected, and open it.
I squeal a little when I see Maksim standing right in front of me, leaning against the doorframe, a long black trench coat over him. I haven’t seen him in over two days, and the color of his eyes surprises me, like it’s my first time seeing them. Cerulean blue, but with darker tints of indigo tonight.
“I’m done early,” he grunts, panting as if he’s having trouble breathing.
That’s when I notice the blood on his neck diving into the collar of his coat. He opens it, and I see his white shirt painted red.
I gasp and take a few steps back. There are blood splatters on his face, his hands, and all over his trousers. Maksim staggers into the room, along the left wall, passing me without looking at me. He collapses on the nearest velvet seat.
I turn to him, mouth agape. I realize I’m not wearing any pants, just my oversized white T-shirt, but that doesn’t matter now.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Complications,” he replies fast, almost in one syllable.
