Page 30 of Broomsticks and Bloodstains
I scanned the lot, shadows stretching too long under the lamps. Nothing moved. The street was empty, but the hairs on my neck rose anyway.
Slow and steady, I exhaled, hand resting on the butt of my gun.
There was no sign of anything out of place. Whoever was watching was good. Patient. Careful. I didn’t find them.
But I knew they’d be back and when they were, we’d be waiting.
Chapter 19
Sofia
Maksim hadn’t been happy, but he needed to leave town for a little over a week. He didn’t tell me where he had to go—just said it was “business.”
While he was gone, the city felt tilted, like we were all walking slightly uphill, yet pretending we weren’t. I constantly wondered if I was imagining things or going crazy. The week had seemed to stretch on forever. By Friday night, my body was one throbbing ache from work and want and worry.
At the bar, men I didn’t know or recognize came in, taking a seat at the bar and ordering a drink they nursed for hours. That or they lingered too long in the doorway before deciding not to come in.
A black car idled on the corner two nights in a row with the lights off and the windows up. I wasn’t sure if it was the Armenians or Maksim’s friends. Boris’s name floated through my mind and the very air I breathed, like perfume—faint, expensive, sharp, yet invisible.
One afternoon, Isabella caught me on my break when she stopped by. I’d been blowing her off a lot to be with Maksim—but for some reason, I’d not been truthful with her. It was as if I wanted to keep Maksim to myself. She sat next to me at the bar and studied my face like I had a third eye. Finally, she said, “You look… not okay.”
After I sighed, I forced a smile. “Define okay.”
“Did things not work out with that guy you were seeing?”
Momentarily startled, I jolted. I’d forgotten I’d mentioned Maksim to her at all.
She nudged my shoulder with hers. “If you need to disappear for a while—my cousin in Queens?—”
“I’m fine,” I insisted.
“I don’t think you are. You’re always alone, baby girl. I’m worried about you.”
“It’s nothing. Just bills—you know, the usual,” I lied, because the alternative was telling her I wasn’t alone even when I was, that somewhere, somehow, he or one of his friends was always close. The lie sat heavy and familiar on my tongue. It should worry me that I was getting good at them.
“Oh, Esteban asked if you would be willing to help out at a wedding reception next weekend. I thought the extra money might be nice for you,” she said with an encouraging smile.
“That would be nice. Text me the details and I’ll see if I can swap a night with Mickey.” Even if Mickey just wanted to take over my shift, I’d make a far cry more at one of Isa’s events. “I better get back to work, though.”
“I’ll message you. We need to plan a girl’s night too,” Isa said as she got off her stool and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
“Sounds good,” I agreed.
That night, the car was idling again. I pretended not to notice it as I passed. But walking home, I could’ve sworn it followed me. I was sure I felt eyes that didn’t belong to him. Different weight. Different hunger.
When I got to my building, I hurried inside. Then, I turned my key too fast, hands clumsy, keychain rattling against my apartment door louder than it should have. By the time I slammed it, my breath was coming in sharp, stupid little bursts. I leaned my forehead against the wood and counted back from ten like you do when you’re trying not to cry.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket.
Open the door, the text read.
My laugh broke on the way out and I opened it. Maksim filled the frame, expression flat until his gaze swept my face and something tightened there. His hands were on my shoulders before I could speak, then on my waist, then he was inside and kicking the door closed, and whatever was hunting me outside could have eaten the building brick by brick, and I would not have noticed.
“You’re back,” I finally breathed in relief.
“Tell me who,” he said into my hair.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, knowing there was no use denying anything with this man. “Car. On the corner. Watching.”
