Page 56 of Cold

Yes, they had been. Amadeo and even Vito pressured me into answering about the Ivanovs. What if they’re all just using me?

“What? You don’t love me anymore?” Sergei asked.

I didn’t know. I was being tugged in two different directions. As much as I hated Sergei, I still loved him. He had given me the world and I was ready to throw it back in his face. Yes, he’d hurt me. But hadn’t that been for my own benefit? I spent my first year crying and thinking about death, but afterward? I was strong. I could handle myself. I could protect myself and other people. Sergei had broken me down and built me back up.

So why did it all feel so wrong?

I whimpered. “I do,” I whispered as I glanced away from him. “I’m confused.”

“Don’t be,” he cooed, his thick Russian accent a familiar blanket I wanted to wrap myself in. “I’m the one that has given you everything and I can take it away, Romare. Do you want that? Look at me!”

I snapped my eyes back up to him and he captivated me with his gaze. “No,” I answered. “Please, I’ll be good.”

“Then apologize,” he said as his hand pushed into my hair. “Apologize for even thinking about betraying me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, my training kicking in. “I’m so, so, sorry. Sergei, I’ll be good, I promise.”

I was snapped right back to the beginning, to the place where I belonged. The truth was that I was nothing. Sergei had made me into something better, a soldier. I could kill and die for him because he turned me into someone who wasn’t a sniveling, pathetic piece of shit. I owed him my life.

The doorknob jiggled. When it didn’t open, a loud knock rapped on the door and I jumped. My heart raced and I stared at it before Sergei yanked my head back and pushed a thick finger against his lips.

“I have to answer,” I whispered. “Or he’ll get suspicious.”

Sergei pressed his lips against my ear. “I know that, but if you say one wrong word-”

“I know.” When he pulled back and the knocking came harder, I called out to Vito. “I’m fine!”

“What’s taking you so long?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes! My stomach hurts a little, but I’m okay!”

“Are you sure?” He jiggled the knob hard. “Why is this door locked?”

“Privacy!” I called back. “I swear I’m almost finished, okay?”

“Romare, I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight.”

I sighed. “Yes, I know,” I called. “Two more minutes! I need to wash my hands.”

“Alright,” he called back. “Hurry up.”

I had to get Vito away from here. The moment he stepped into the bathroom, Sergei would pull the trigger and he’d be dead. I imagined Vito lying on the floor, bleeding out, staring at me with cold, empty eyes.

My stomach clenched and rolled. I felt the bile rise in my throat. Closing my eyes, I swallowed it down, trying not to vomit all over Sergei.

“I have to go,” I whispered to him as I opened my eyes again.

“See you at the hotel.”

I nodded and reached past him to flush the toilet. He allowed me to go. Finally. I washed my hands and dried them off on my swimming trunks. Standing at the door, I took in a deep breath and exhaled before I opened it.

“Are you okay?” Vito asked again.

“Yes.” I laid a hand on my stomach. “Something didn’t agree with me. Can we just go to the hotel? I don’t want ice cream anymore.”

Vito frowned. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

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