Page 149 of Blood & Snow
But what sort of man will that make me in her eyes?
And why the fuck do I suddenly care that she will look at me differently?
I used to pride myself in the fact that women saw me as a butcher.
Now one woman's opinion threatens to crush my entire life.
I drive across the city.
The streets are slick with ice, the sidewalks crowded with people preparing for the holidays.
Flashing lights blink in windows, cheerful and bright.
Shop displays overflow with wrapped gifts and tinsel.
Families walk together, children laughing, parents carrying bags full of presents.
None of it touches me.
Her apartment building is gray and crumbling, the kind of place where pipes freeze in winter and the heat never works.
I picture the yolka, lit up with gifts piled under it.
Iwonder if they've opened any, if she sees the warm sweaters I bought for her.
But I can't bring myself to go knock just in case she's home.
I park across the street and stare up at the fourth floor.
Her windows are dark.
She's got to be cleaning still, and I'm a fool who didn't even send a car for her this time.
She'll have to call a cab, ride with a stranger back across town before dawn.
I could go to her, offer her a ride, but my pride freezes me in my seat staring at her bedroom window, or what I imagine is her bedroom.
What would I say to her if I did show up?
That I'm furious that she refuses to be my partner in this life?
But did I ever take the time to do anything more than "claim" her and tell her I own her?
What did I even offer to her besides what appears to be captivity?
And why would she want to be possessed for the rest of her life as if she were nothing more than an object?
So I stare at the phone in my hand believing I've fucked up my only chance and Nadya is going to walk right into a trap set for her by my boss.
And I know I can't let that happen.
I dial her number again.
It rings once… Twice…
On the third ring, someone answers.
My pulse spikes.
