Page 31 of Brooklyn Bratva

By the time I reached the top, Ruslan was nowhere to be seen. My head pounded and blood dripped down my arm, dripping off my fingertips and puddling on the wooden boards.

I took a step forward, and the world gave a dizzy spin.

Becca

I retreated to my bedroom, got into my pjs and forced myself to read for as long as I could bare the itch of not knowing where he was. Work or not, he’d said he’d see me later. Which, yes, could have meant tomorrow, but if that was true wouldn’t he have said that? It was nearly ten thirty now and he hadn’t even replied to my text.

I was a mess.

What if he really had decided kissing me was a mistake? What if he’d talked to Dad and decided his friendship was worth more than whatever we could have? I’d die if he decided to avoid me forever.

Irritation bubbled in me until I wasn’t reading any of the words on the page. I lasted another ten minutes stewing before I picked up my cell and dialed his number.

How dare he not even call.

Wasn’t he going to bother mentioning our kiss? If he planned on treating me as though nothing had happened between us then he had another thing coming. The happy bubble I’d been rocking all day started to deflate at just the idea of that.

Maybe it hadn’t meant anything to him.

Of course it hadn’t. He’d probably kissed dozens of women. Hundreds even. I probably didn’t even register as a blip on his radar. One way or another, I had to find out.

I started talking as soon as the line opened out.

“If you’re mad at me for making dinner with your mom instead of going out to eat with you, I’m going to have to reconsider this whole thing, because I didn’t think you were such a giant baby.”

“Becca.” Ivan’s wince came clear down the line. Pain clouded his voice; his breathing was labored.

My irritation evaporated in an instant.

“Oh my God. Ivan what happened? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Stop talking. I’m at my place.”

“I’m coming over.”

“No.”

“Yes, Ivan. You sound terrible. Unless you tell me what’s wrong right now you’re not leaving me any choice.”

Ivan didn’t argue again and that worried me more than anything else. I heard him swallow and again he made an effort to calm his breathing.

“Bring – there’s a spare key. In the desk in the study. Top right drawer. Let yourself in.”

“Okay. I’ll be – right there. Just keep talking-”

Ivan disconnected the call. “Damn it Ivan! You’re supposed to stay on the line!”

After a mad hustle to find the keys, I pulled on a pair of leggings, and a sweatshirt, not bothering to change out of my Minnie Mouse nightshirt. This was an emergency. I didn’t have time for fashion.

Stamping my bare feet into my running shoes, I grabbed my phone and keys as I legged it out the door.

It was late and Ivan was in trouble. I didn’t have time to worry about being quiet.

CHAPTER 15

Becca

“Hello?” I called out as I turned the key in the lock and opened the door, letting myself into Ivan’s apartment.

He didn’t say anything.

The corridor I stepped into was dark and the timer on the hall light behind me went out almost as soon as I stepped inside. I reached out to the nearest wall, my hand sliding along the faded wallpaper, searching for the lightswitch, flipping it on before I closed the front door behind me. I was glad I hadn’t walked right in when I saw how close I’d come to tripping headlong over Ivan’s bench press weights, which were all lined up along the cramped corridor.

It was much more cramped and basic than his mom’s place, which was to be expected given the Oceana complex was as good as it got around here. But I didn’t care. It was his. And it reminded me of the place I’d grown up in.

The blue-gray flicker of the TV led me into the living room. Ivan was sitting in the middle of an old couch in the dark staring at the TV, with the screen muted and a bottle of vodka clutched tightly in his fist.

I let out a short breath, feeling my irritation rise. What was he doing? This wasn’t the man I thought I knew. “For Godsake Ivan, I was worried about you and you’re sitting here getting drunk in the dark!”

I flipped the light on, about to continue my rant about him dragging me out of bed.

But with the lights on, I could see the bright red of the sodden towel he was pressing against his shoulder, and the pile of similar, discarded towels, all soaked crimson.

I felt all the blood drain out of my face as the iron tang of Ivan’s hit the back of my throat. “Oh my God.”

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