Page 9 of Blood Oath Christmas
I open my mouth to talk but a sob bursts out instead. Tears track down my face and I’m breathing so fast, I start to get dizzy.
“What the hell? Ivy, you’re scaring me.” Frank’s voice loses its gruffness and shakes with fear. “Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“You can’t,” I finally manage to get out. Taking a deep breath, I try to get my emotions under control. “I-I… oh, Frank, something happened tonight, but I can’t tell you what. Not yet, at least.”
“Did someone hurt you?” he interrupts. “Was it your stalker?”
I blink, confused, then shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, no one hurt me. But it’s bad, Frank. I’m not even supposed to be talking to you—or anyone.”
“Ivy—”
“I don’t have much time. I just wanted to call you and tell you that no matter what you may hear, I’m fine. I’m safe. But I won’t be able to see you for a while.”
Forever.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he says, his voice high with fear. “Is this about spending Christmas at the cabin? We don’t have to, you know. We can?—”
“No, no, it has nothing to do with that,” I hurry to tell him. My heart clenches with sorrow that I’m hurting him. That I can’t explain. But I know, again from watching TV and movies, that to tell him anything could put him in danger.
A knock sounds at the bathroom door and I spin around to look at it.
“Miss Andreev? Are you okay?” a female voice calls out.
“I gotta go,” I whisper urgently into the phone. I don’t wait for Frank to respond and quickly disconnect the call and tuck the phone back into my skirt.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I call out.
“Can I get you anything?” the female asks.
Instead of answering, I open the door and paste on a wobbly smile. “No, but thank you.”
The female cop looks at me with a frown, her gaze traveling from my head to my toes, before she finally nods. “Okay, if you’resure. Let’s get you back to the FBI. They are anxious to get you somewhere safe.”
“A police station isn’t safe?” I ask. I try for light and funny, but it comes out a bit sarcastic.
The officer doesn’t answer, and we walk quietly back to the desk where the FBI agents are waiting. But we don’t stop there. She leads me across the area to a small room, and the agents soon join me. For the next hour or so, Agent Thomas explains the program… and that I will need to start immediately. First, they’ll keep me in safe houses until I testify. During that time, they’ll set up a new life for me. I will begin that new life as soon as I’m done in court. The whole time we’re talking, my phone vibrates against my waist, and I know it has to be Frank trying to reach me.
“Isn’t anyone even going to ask me if I want this?” I demand quietly.
Agent Thomas raises his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Miss Andreev. I thought you realized the seriousness of this, the danger you’re in.” He pauses, studying me with a serious yet oddly understanding look. “I’m not trying to frighten you even more than you already are, but your life is on the line. These guys, these Russian Mafia, are not someone you want following you, or worse, getting a hold of you. We can put a protective detail on you, but only until you testify. Then you’re on your own.”
He leans forward in his chair across the table from me and pins me with his eyes. “The only way we can protect you is to put you in the program.”
I know it’s the truth even though I don’t want it to be true. “How much time do I have to decide?” I ask.
Agent Thomas looks at his watch. “About five minutes. We’ve been here too long as it is. The longer we stay here, the more likely Antonov will have his men waiting to ambush us.”
I actually feel my face drain of whatever little color it had. Bile rushes up my throat, and I have to swallow hard several times to keep from vomiting. A loud noise fills my ears and I realize it’s my rapid breathing.
“Take it easy,” Agent Thomas says calmly. “You’re going to be just fine. We just really want to get you somewhere safe. The sooner, the better.”
I nod. It’s the only thing I can do. Trying to talk seems like an impossible task right now.
My phone vibrates again, and Agent Thomas looks pointedly at it. “I’m sorry, but we’ll need to take that.”
I shake my head. I don’t want to get rid of the only tie I have left to my soon-to-be old life. He’s patient, though, and just sits there with his hand held out.
Reluctantly, I retrieve my phone, but don’t hand it to him right away. Ten missed calls from Frank and another seven text messages. I want to listen and read my messages, respond to them, but I know the agents will never allow it. Very slowly, I hand my phone over to Agent Thomas, my stomach churning as I do so.
