I have no other choice.
After riding the bus for a couple of hours, I head home.
I thought it through. There’s no way Arsen doesn’t know who I am. We locked eyes, and he’s absolutely sure I witnessed that murder. He’ll come find me, and if I’m not around when he does, then he might take it out on my family.
I can’t risk it. My mom’s sick, my dad’s barely hanging on physically, and my brother’s a freaking dumbass. Vadim will get himself killed trying to protect our parents.
There’s only one way to help them.
“You’re home early,” Mom says from the living room. Dad’s sleeping on the easy chair beside her while she reads on her Kindle. She pushes her glasses up, frowning at me.
“Club flooded,” I blurt out. It’s the first excuse that pops into my head.
Mom’s brows raise. “Flooded? How?”
“Toilets. They clogged.”
“All of them?”
“Enough. And a pipe broke. It’s a real mess.”
“Huh. Sounds like a nightmare.” She smiles at me and pats the cushion beside her. “Come sit and relax. You look exhausted.”
I curl up beside my mother and lean my head on her shoulder. She strokes my hair and reads her book, and when I close my eyes, I see Saro’s head explode into blood and brains, I see Arsen staring death at me, I hear that other man call out. I have to fight the urge to break down and start crying, because if I do that, Mom’s going to know something’s really wrong.
I hold it together. I make some tea and help get Dad to bed when he snorts himself awake. Mom’s not far after him, and I’m left alone at one in the morning, pacing back and forth across the living room.
Waiting for my one-night stand to come murder me.
Why isn’t Arsen here yet? He knows I saw, and he knows where I live. Is he too busy dealing with Saro’s corpse? Is he getting off on the thought of making me suffer? I want to scream and hide. I want to curl up in a ball and sob myself hoarse.
This is what I get for my stupid curiosity. I’m the goddamn cat in that dumb proverb. I can’t keep to myself—an open door is like crack to me. Even when I know I should walk on by and mind my own business, somehow, I manage to get into trouble anyway.
I did this for years. Urban exploration was my thing. I swear I’ve been in at least half of all the abandoned buildings in Baltimore, and I’d go into the other half if it weren’t for my mom getting sick.
Now I’ve gone too far. It was cute when I was wriggling into windows and taking pictures of empty warehouses.
There’s nothing fun about witnessing a murder.
A lot about that night makes sense now, though. The cash all over the place, the gun under the sink. Arsen’s disinterest in finding out what had happened to his place.
I fucked a criminal.
A really, really bad one, too.
An hour passes. I finally crawl into bed and close my eyes. I see Arsen’s mouth between my legs. I see the horror and pleading in Saro’s eyes.
Sunlight. My alarm. I blink and murmur and swat at my phone until it turns off. “What the hell?”
I have approximately two minutes to wonder why I’m still alive before I get sick again. When I’m done, I hurry into the kitchen, terrified I’m going to find my whole family tied up and tortured.
Instead, Mom smiles at me brightly. “Want some coffee?” she asks.
I kiss her cheek a little longer than usual. “You’re okay?” I don’t even know why I ask. She’s clearly not okay, not even close to okay, but she’s here. That’s better than the alternative.
“Today’s a good day, little baby. But you smell kind of bad.”
“I should take a shower.”
“And brush your teeth.” She wrinkles her nose. “Did you make an appointment with your doctor yet?”
“Not yet, but I will.”
What the hell is going on? I saw Arsen kill someone last night. We locked freaking eyes. And for some reason, my mother’s fine, my dad’s at work, my brother’s sleeping in, and I’m still breathing.
It doesn’t make any sense.
The day’s a blur. It’s too normal, and that’s killing me. I keep waiting for the door to get kicked down and for Arsen to appear, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, I take my mom to the bank and the grocery store. I make soup for dinner later tonight. I do laundry and fold my dad’s clothes and get ready for work.
Normal. Excruciatingly, agonizingly normal.
“You’ve been a little twitchy today,” Mom says from her spot on the couch. A Russian soap opera’s playing on TV, and I should get going soon.
Who’s going to cut my paycheck now that Sora’s dead?
“Just, uh, worried the club’s still, you know—”
“Flooded?”
“Right, still flooded. From the toilets.”
She looks deeply skeptical but lets it go.
Maybe I got away with it. For once in my life, maybe I’m getting lucky. I’ve gone through enough shit over the years that maybe God is smiling down on me and giving me a single witness a murder without consequences pass.
I almost believe it too when I step out into the hall and start to leave for work.
Only to find the door to Arsen’s apartment is open.
Like a gaping, hungry mouth, fangs dripping blood.
It hasn’t budged in weeks. I’ve walked by that door every day, and there hasn’t been a change. Now it’s standing there inviting me over.
But not this time. I’m learning from my mistakes. Even though I drift in its direction, I’m not looking inside.
I glare down at my feet and start walking past. I make it halfway to the stairs when I hear a voice.
“Lena.”
My toes go numb. My lips quiver, and I stop moving. This can’t be happening. Please, just let me off the hook for once in my life. Slowly, I turn around.
Arsen’s leaning against his doorjamb and watches me with a hard expression.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He found me, and now I’m done.
“We need to talk,” he says and gestures with his chin. “Come inside.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. He disappears into his apartment and leaves that traitor bastard door standing wide open again.
Beckoning me.
I could run. I could take off, hop on a train, and disappear. Maybe that might even save my life.
But it wouldn’t save Mom or Dad or Vadim.
Now I know how Saro felt with those guns aimed at his head.
I shuffle after Arsen, forcing myself to take each step.
Marching to my own execution.
