Page 84 of Dance with Death

I reason that Kostya must have entered my number in her contacts, too. He put her in mine as A, so naturally, she sees my messages as being sent from E.

E:Your tone suggests a wandering mind, A.

A:You’re imagining my tone, E.

E:Am I?

A:Not entirely…I miss you.

E:I miss you. So fucking much.

A couple of minutes pass without a reply. Though my fingers twitch to send another message, I wait. I wait because I don’t know her situation or circumstances. I don’t know where Vigo keeps her, whether it’s safe for her to be texting me right now. I’m not going to risk her being found out by incessantly sending her texts—even though I think I could write her a goddamn novel right now and still not tell her everything I need to.

A:I’m really trying, E. I’m trying to keep my promise.

Shit.

There’s an implication with this message. She’s trying to keep the promise she made me at the Leblancs’, her promise to stay alive, to give me time to work out a way to save her. But this message tells me she’s struggling because she has totrynot to kill herself.

Fuck.

She has totry.

I shoot to my feet and pace the floor, pent up energy springing my legs into action.

What do I say to her?

What can I possibly say to that?

E:I know you are and I love you more for it. Just for trying.

I squeeze my eyes shut after I press send. I think I can nearly feel her sigh from wherever the hell she is tonight.

A:I don’t want to be morbid. Distract me. Give me some peace.

E:Just tell me what you need. You know I’ve got you.

A:I don’t even know what I need.

E:Dick pic, maybe?

There’s a pause.

I almost think that was a stupid thing to say, but I also know Anya. Sometimes she just needs a reminder that she’s allowed to smile over something ridiculous, that she’s allowed to take a break from being so damn serious. Though I am second-guessing it now because this situation has earned seriousness to the highest degree. And I know my sarcasm tends to get lost in translation, so...

A:Send it.

E:Seriously?

A:NO! I don’t think I’ve ever laughed out loud here. Not until just now.

Snark met with snark. I’ve met my match with her. My cheeks hurt from the wide fucking grin on my face.

E:Damn. I had my pants off and everything for you.

A:Did you really?

E:I guess you’ll never know.

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