Page 76 of The Crimson Lily
The car pulls over a few feet away from a path to the dark woods outside of Ostia. Giovanni drove into the night, out of Rome and toward the sea.
Chiara sits on the front seat, and my favorite Belarusian man and I are behind them. Maksim held my hand all the way here. He comforted me with gentle strokes in the crook of my palm. I want to tell him to be careful for the fiftieth time. I want to tell him to watch out, keep an eye out, and not make any rash decisions. I want to tell him how much I love him and how much I wish for him to come back to me as soon as possible.
But I don’t. I don’t say any of this when he steps out of the car with a Volto mask on his perfect face. With a coat flowing gently behind him in the windless air of an Italian winter. I hate watching him slip into the darkness that surrounds us.
“Can he hear us?” I ask Giovanni, who nods in response.
The box of cables and buttons rests on Chiara’s lap, and Giovanni carries a headset on his head like in a spy or detective movie.
“Can I talk to him?” my voice can’t help but ask.
Giovanni sighs but hands me the headset. I place it on my ears, careful not to damage it, even though those thick pads can probably withstand an earthquake.
“Maksim?” I call.
I just hear footsteps. Of course, he can’t talk. I exhale deeply and make peace with myself to be able to say, “Be careful out there,” for the fifty-first time.
Maksim nods or acknowledges me or sighs in his mind. It’s probably the latter. But I don’t trust him being out there, on his own, close to the Syndicate’s claws. I still have this hunch that things aren’t the way they’re supposed to be. I don’t want Maksim to get in trouble. I don’t want him to get hurt. I can’t bear losing him.
“I lo…” Am I just about to sayit? Nope. I chicken out. “Come back to me,” I muffle my own impulse.
Pause. “I will.”
My heart melts. I force myself to stifle the tear that desperately wants to roll down my cheek.
Hours later…
“What’s going on?” I ask Giovanni.
He’s relaxed, his elbow slouched against the door. On the one hand, Chiara is calm and noiseless. Her posture expresses patience. She does cast furtive glances out of the window from time to time, as if she’s waiting for something, but she’s doing it silently. On the other hand, I have my buttocks in the air, gripping Giovanni’s headrest to balance myself over his seat so I can have my ear against one of the pads.
Footsteps, cracks of branches, then soft pawing thuds like someone is walking in gravel. Voices. A woman. English. Or is it French? Movements close to the microphone, then a greeting murmur and more thuds.
“I’m in.” Maksim’s voice, words he’s able to sneak out.
My heart skips a beat upon hearing him. I lean in closer to hear everything better.
More voices. People greeting each other. They all sound distant like they’re speaking behind their lips. It’s because of their masks, I conclude.
“Ishethe man you’re dating?” Giovanni asks out of the blue, without looking at me.
I know Maksim can hear. “Yes,” I answer.
“That explains a lot,” he comments. “You don’t look at me like you look at him!”
I can’t help but chuckle. “No shit, Giovanni!” I exclaim. “You never had a chance with me.”
Giovanni imitates my chuckle. “Sadly, I did have hopes,” he cries with an exaggerated pout.
Chiara scoffs. She wants no part in this love triangle. “You know he can hear you, Gio!”
“I know, I know,” Giovanni assures, hands in the air like a guilty man. “Please take my apology,Russo,” he says, addressing Maksim through the microphone.
Chiara gives him the condescending eye roll of exasperation.
My focus veers back to the headset’s pad. The percussive sound of the gravel has changed to the muted crunches of crushed grass. An unexpected melody slowly takes over the background noise of the forest. Chants, or maybe people talking in very low hums. Weird. Strange.Dramatic. What kind of gathering did Maksim just enter?
It sounds like a goat is going to get sacrificed or something!
