Chapter 14
Misha
The doctor analyzed the X-rays of Misha’s stumps. The bones on the photographs were cut short in the grey mass of flesh. It looked so unnatural Misha had to stop watching and squeezed Grim’s hand under the desk where they sat. He couldn’t stand the fact they were all looking at the insides of his body.
The middle-aged doctor, Frank, had awaited them, and so it’d been only half an hour since Misha’s and Grim’s arrival at a large hospital in Charleston, West Virginia. Traveling from their hideout in Tennessee had taken seven hours, and they had managed to gather all their things and drown the three bodies and their van in the remote lake in the woods within two.
Everything went according to plan, yet with the chip inside him, Misha felt like a ticking time bomb. Until the thing was out, he wouldn’t settle down.
“I can see it,” Frank said, nodding to himself. “It’s not very deep inside, so don’t worry.” His voice was neutral, but he still sounded as if he were about to give Misha a lollipop for sitting there calmly. Misha had no idea how Grim knew the doctor, but if Grim trusted that man, Misha was certain that trust had been earned.
“Good. There’s people after him, and we need to dispose of this as soon as possible,” said Grim, pulling Misha closer to his body. Despite the hurry of their departure from Tennessee, Grim managed to scrape some time up to shave and wash himself. He really was extremely neat and always smelled nice, which Misha really appreciated, because he hadn’t been able to count on as much with Gary.
Frank sighed. “We could throw it onto the Kanawha. They would be chasing a ghost. ”
Misha nodded, surprised by just how intimidated he felt around a man who was on their side. His brain knew he was safe, yet his senses were all twitchy.
“I want it out as soon as possible.”
“Can you do it now?” asked Grim, gently massaging Misha’s arm.
Frank’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Just give me a second,” he said and walked out the door.
Misha released a long breath and leaned into Grim. “I hate knives being near me. I know it’s not logical, but I can’t stand them. I get all sweaty, and I can’t focus. It’s pathetic that I’m still not over it.” He put one hand over his face. “It’s why I attacked you with a fork, and why I still have this shitty hair Gary wanted me to grow. Fuck.”
Grim’s brows gathered into a frown. “You don’t like it?”
“I’m not fucking Rapunzel. I used to have a short ponytail, but nothing like this.” He pointed to the bun on his head. “It makes me look like a girl. Gary even had me waxing. I don’t care if you like that, but I’ll be growing it out.”
Grim laughed and pulled on Misha’s bun. “I don’t care either way. Whatever makes you comfortable, birdie.”
Those words lifted some gloom off Misha’s heart. “Would … would you cut it for me? I still can’t deal with scissors.”
Grim shrugged and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “There’s a barber I like in town. We could go there.”
Misha licked his lips. “I’m freaking out over a stranger with a blade around me. I’ll do something stupid, or say something, and there will be lots of people there … I’d rather not. It’s fine if you don’t want to do it.”
“I’m fine with cutting it, but don’t complain if your hair looks shit after I’m done with it,” said Grim.
Misha trailed his fingertips over Grim’s bicep. “I don’t mind. I’d be wearing it in a ponytail most of the time anyway.”
Grim’s gaze swept over Misha’s fingers, only to rise up to Misha’s face. “All right.”
Their eyes locked. “I know you’re good with blades,” Misha whispered. He had witnessed just how good the day before. And yet, he wasn’t afraid of Grim. He knew those knives would never turn against him in Grim’s hands .
The door opened, and Frank walked back in, locking the door behind him. “All right. Get on there,” he said, indicating the medical bed by the wall, already covered by a layer of paper from a roll at one end.
“But he can stay, right?” Misha pointed to Grim as he reluctantly wheeled to the bed.
Frank glanced at Grim, pulling purple latex over his hands. “As long as he doesn’t retaliate.”
Grim smirked and rose from his chair. “You need to be very gentle with him.”
Frank lowered the bed for Misha, and soon enough, Misha lay down, watching his own stump with a frown. His poor body had gone through so much suffering already, but yet again, it would have to be cut open. His breath quickened at the sight of the scalpel glinting in the cool light, and he clenched his eyes shut, fantasizing that he was somewhere else, somewhere safe.
“Are you just as afraid of needles?” asked Frank. “I’d like to use local anesthesia.”
Misha squeezed his fists. “I don’t like needles, but I don’t like pain either. I’d rather not feel the cutting.”
Grim sat on the bed behind Misha and pulled him back against his wide, steady chest. Half of Misha’s fear subsided, as if swept away by magic. Misha needed to have the chip out, but with nausea rising in his chest, he was grateful for all the support he could get. The needle was sharp and went in easily as Misha held his breath. It was only when Frank started injecting the stump that the pain became stronger.
“Have you two known each other long?” asked Frank. Misha knew it was meant as a distraction, but he was grateful nevertheless.
“Three weeks maybe. It’s just been … a rough time.” Misha’s muscle in the stump tensed at both the touch and the needle sinking in again, but if Grim trusted the doctor, Misha would as well, even though having a stranger touch him like this made another layer of fear cling to his heart.
Frank massaged the stump as numbness spread through Misha’s flesh, and Misha wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not. With the stump numb, it felt almost as if it was ceasing to exist, as if the leg he could still feel down there was completely gone .
“I’d rather not look, if that’s okay,” Misha said and curled his shoulders in front of Grim. But the image still wouldn’t go away. Zero, cutting into him without mercy and feeding on his screams.
Grim tightened his hold around Misha, tucking Misha’s head underneath his chin. “It’ll be all right,” he whispered. “I’m looking on, so nothing will happen to you,” he promised as Misha shuddered at the ghost of a touch at his limb.
“Thank you.” Misha took a deep breath, melting into the warmth of Grim’s embrace. For once, there was someone looking out for him.
He tried to numb his brain as his stump was opened. It didn’t hurt, but he could sense the pressure, and his body was becoming rigid with the anticipation of shock and pain. Something clanged against metal, and Frank said, “It’s out.”
The relief was so immense, as if he just got a tumor cut out. He leaned his head back against Grim, and his muscles went lax. The doctor seemed to be casual about Grim’s sexuality, so Misha wasn’t bothered to hide their closeness. He didn’t open his eyes though until the gash in his leg was repaired with stitches and bandaged.
“You know the drill, Grim,” said Frank, pouring clean water over the bloodied piece of plastic before tucking it into a small pouch. “I’ll give him a prescription for antibiotics in your name, just in case.”
Grim nodded and helped Misha into the wheelchair, extra careful with the bandaged stump. It was almost as if he were afraid to touch it for once.
Misha thanked the doctor again, and he could hardly believe how lucky he was to have crashed into Grim’s life. Who else would ever have the patience with him? Who would have fought three armed men to keep him safe? Any other man would just leave him be and save himself the hassle, but not Grim.
They exchanged a few pleasantries, but Grim was adamant about not staying in town even for the night. Frank said his goodbyes with a promise to dispose of the chip, and they were off, driving farther away from the horrors of Misha’s existence. Wherever it was they were going, as long as it was with Grim, he’d feel safe.
In the truck, Misha slept off the insomnia of the previous night. With the chip gone, his body deflated, and Grim’s presence was reassuring enough for him to doze off as soon as Grim tucked him in with the seatbelt. But when Grim’s voice penetrated his dreams, it was like being taken from one pair of warm arms into ones that were even stronger.
“Birdie, we’re here.”
Misha blinked a few times and looked up into Grim’s eyes. “Oh … oh!” He yawned, happy to see greenery again. “Where are we? What time is it?”
Grim smirked and brushed his fingers over Misha’s forehead. “You said you want to see my home,” he said, slipping out of the cab.
Excitement exploded in Misha’s chest at the thought of seeing where Grim spent his downtime, and he pushed the door open. “But there’s no one here, right?”
Grim walked up to Misha and pulled him out of the truck, as steady as ever. “No. The nearest neighbors live in town. It is just me here ... at least when I stay over,” he said, turning around with Misha in his arms.
Between the trees stood a small house with grey walls and thick steel bars in the windows and in front of the door. The sun shone between the leaves, painting the plaster and roof with bright light that only added to the serene picture.
Grim nudged Misha with his chin. “What do you think?” he asked with an eagerness to his voice.
Misha wrapped his arms around Grim’s neck and his legs around Grim’s waist. “Looks … safe.” He snorted and looked around the tall trees to the dark rubble where a bigger house must have stood a few hundred yards away.
“It’s very safe. It has a panic room, and oxygen tanks inside, in case someone wanted to burn me down,” said Grim, carrying Misha toward the house. He reached into his pocket, for a moment holding Misha up with one arm, and pulled out a set of keys.
Misha hugged him tighter, loving the reassuring amount of strength Grim had. “Has anyone ever tracked you down here?” He could swear Grim actually squeezed his ass, but he didn’t mind.
“No way. People don’t know I live here. And I’m here too rarely to be suspicious. Besides, there’s no neighbors since the other house burned down,” he said, unlocking the bars and then the heavy door itself .
“Was it arson?” Misha gave Grim a kiss on the ear, overwhelmed by how quickly his feelings for Grim were developing. Was it the intensity of what they did together? Or was it the fact that he was the first man Misha chose?
Grim stiffened and pushed the door open, letting out stale air. “No. The people who lived there ... they were bums. They didn’t pay for electricity on time and used candles during a crystal meth party. The house burned down in the end,” he said, walking into a tidy, sparsely decorated living room. The floor was some kind of brown resin covered with a withered rug, but the room was furnished with a black sofa and a coffee table. There were also some books on a block of shelves and a few photographs of landscapes on the walls. This place didn’t reflect who Grim was either. It was almost as if he refused to leave an imprint of his personality even in the most intimate of spaces.
“This isn’t your family home, is it?” Misha stroked Grim’s neck, trying not to think about the weird tingly feeling in his stump, which was still numb from the earlier surgery.
Grim shook his head and showed Misha around, walking into a room with a big bed on a black frame and a set of linens folded on top of the comforter, as if this were a hotel. “No. My old home is long gone. And it wasn’t much to look at anyway. This is all mine.”
Misha smiled. “Finally, brought to the prince’s castle. Or … the dragon’s lair? Where he hoards all his precious things?”
Grim smirked. “You’d be surprised. I’m too stingy to gather things I don’t need,” he said, showing Misha a small bathroom. It wouldn’t be wide enough for a wheelchair, but it had a tub and everything else one might need.
“I meant myself,” Misha said flatly. Maybe he wasn’t that precious after all.
Grim blinked. “Oh ... okay? I thought you meant like ... clothes or ... a stamp collection?”
Misha shook his head. It looked like his attempts at flirting weren’t hitting their target, so he’d better shut up. Chatting to horny guys on a webcam was much easier.
Grim nuzzled his jaw. “You don’t belong in a collection. You’re one of a kind.”
Misha’s insides got all warm at Grim’s words, and he took his time enjoying the smell of Grim’s cologne. “Flattery. ”
“Maybe,” said Grim, carrying Misha past the kitchen and outside again. It was much more pleasant without the stale air they needed to get rid of before the night came. “We will think how to make the house more accessible in the future.”
“I liked being so close to nature. Even if it ended so horribly.” Misha looked to a squirrel climbing up a tall tree. “I’ve been locked up for so long, I can still hardly believe I’m out.”
Grim squeezed Misha in his arms and slowly lowered them to the grass. It looked so fresh and vibrant, and Misha still couldn’t fathom that he could lie here however long he pleased.
“Why are they after you?” asked Grim once he placed Misha on the ground, careful of the bandaged stump.
Misha took a deep breath, knowing that it was time to come clean. “I stole a flash drive from Gary. I think it has some insider intel on the organization. But they might not even know about that. Before I tell you, I … I just want you to know that it’s fine if you decide I’m too much of a burden. You’ve got your life, and I get it. I appreciate all that you’re doing for me, and I don’t expect it to last forever.”
Grim’s face fell, and he looked straight at Misha, handsome like a 1940s movie star with his slicked-back hair and masculine features. “It’s not fine. Don’t lie to me.”
“Okay, I wouldn’t feel good about it, but I’ve had worse things happen to me than being abandoned. I just don’t want you to feel obliged to help me.” He picked at a few strands of grass, loving the fresh smell of pine around them.
Grim picked up Misha’s hand and traced the inside of his palm with his fingertips. “You’re not a dog. I’m not gonna abandon you. I will always stay with you.”
Misha got that happy tingle in his chest again despite knowing that one day Grim could still change his mind no matter how much he believed what he was saying now. “You’re very sweet for a man who flays people.”
Grim laughed loudly. “That’s because I only flay people I don’t like. And those guys who came after you, they were the worst. I mean ... attacking a disabled guy?”
“Soo … I know why they are after me, and it’s not just out of revenge for leaving with the enemy. When I was seventeen, I was really good with code, you know, like a hacker. I’d probably be able to do a lot even now, but I’d be rusty with new systems. I used the deep web a lot. Do you know what that is? ”
Grim’s brows shot up. “Sure.”
Of course, Grim would know. He was a professional killer. “So between all the offers of drugs for sale, and other shady stuff, I found this … riddle. I was attracted to it, because I really like puzzles, and there was supposed to be a great prize for whoever solved it, and it just was this mystery . At first, I had to break a simple numerical code to get the next clue, and when I did that, I had to make a phone call, then solve another numerical puzzle that was a mixture of a coding language and a maths problem. That went on for a few weeks. It was … intense .”
Grim petted Misha’s shoulder and pulled off the band, loosening his hair. It stayed slightly upright, but Grim started combing it free from the form it froze in. “So ... you believed some random guy on the dark web that you would win something? I mean ... that’s a shady place. What was the prize that you wanted it so much?”
Misha sighed, knowing he sounded naive, but he hadn’t been that experienced back then. “I didn’t know what the prize would be, I got lost in the chase. I felt like I was achieving something. I cracked codes. For one of the clues, I had to go into the kitchen of a Korean restaurant and pull a flash drive out of a freaking fish. You lose perspective, you feel like you’re part of something great, like you are about to become part of some Super-Mensa organization. And I didn’t have much growing up, so it was thrilling and addictive.”
Grim kissed the back of Misha’s head, twisting all the long hair around his hand and untangling it gently.
“As one of my last clues, I found a lot of foreign money—dollars—and a phone number. I called it, and a man picked up, congratulating me on having a unique mind, amazing abilities, blah, blah.” Misha slouched. He had been such an idiot to believe that crap, no matter how many mathematical problems he could solve. “He said they would pay me a lot of money to hack into their system so that I could help them find any holes in their security. But because they were so super-secretive, they said I would have to do it at their headquarters. I felt so appreciated, so proud, that I wasn’t thinking straight. For once, I achieved something, and I believed that there was more out there for me. They were talking big money for this service. The kind of money with which I could leave for Moscow, or wherever else, start a life that wasn’t about working at the salt-extraction facility, eating cup noodles, and spending nights in Internet cafes. ”
Grim kissed Misha’s shoulder and loosely tied his hair into a low ponytail. “What happened?” he whispered, as if there was anyone here to eavesdrop on them.
“I did it. I traveled to their headquarters, got treated to nice food, and they even offered me a prostitute as some sort of perk. I err … declined. It was getting weird, but I sank into the task. I could feel it under my skin that something was wrong, but when I saw what it was that they wanted me to protect with a security system, there was no going back. It was a closed network, so I couldn’t send a message out while I was there.” Nausea hit Misha at the memory of endless videos of men, women, children, and animals violated, tortured, raped, and mutilated in horrific ways.
He never forgot those images. They still haunted him in the relative safety of Gary’s apartment, in nightmares that he hurriedly drew in sketchbooks that Gary always took away once there were no more empty pages left. Misha didn’t know what happened to them afterward, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Grim exhaled and pulled Misha harder against his chest. The scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh air and the aroma of wild flowers that grew all around them, and it provided the necessary peace for Misha to keep it together.
“They realized you knew?” asked Grim.
“Oh, they let me find out. To secure the whole thing, I had to look through some of that stuff, and it scared me shitless, so … I did the best job I could possibly do for them. I smiled, nodded, and coded until my fingers were sore. I wanted to be out. I didn’t want money. I just wanted to forget about the whole thing. I could barely sleep. I’m so ashamed now. All these people who got hurt later because I helped them keep a secure system …” Misha shook his head, evading the thoughts of his most shameful moment and his biggest guilt, much more recent than the whole hackfest.
Grim slid his hands along Misha’s arms and entwined their fingers. “They took you,” he whispered knowingly. It wasn’t even a question. Grim knew this was how this world worked.
“Once I finished with the system, closed my mouth shut, and smiled some more, hoping they wouldn’t see the crazy in my eyes, I didn’t get any money, and I didn’t get to leave. You must have seen pictures of those amazing domes of St. Basil’s cathedral in Moscow. They were commissioned by Ivan the Terrible, and the architect had done such a beautiful job with them that when he was done, the tsar had him blinded so nothing like them could ever be built again. I knew their secrets. They wouldn’t let me go. When I think about all that I’ve been through, I don’t know if I’m lucky to still be alive or if it was some kind of punishment for my crimes. I guess I have a pretty face, so they kept me.” He shrugged, not for the first time wishing he were uglier. But then he would probably have been killed, and he would never have met Grim.
Grim was silent for several seconds and eventually pulled his hands away. “How did they get you into the US?”
Misha looked over his shoulder. “In a container on a cargo ship.”
“It’s over now,” said Grim calmly as he picked up Misha’s ponytail. Then came the slight pressure at the back of Misha’s head, and his skin crawled with ants, sensing a blade without even touching it.
He stopped breathing and stiffened, but there was no fear in him despite the visceral reaction of his body. Grim wouldn’t cut him up. “It is. The chip is out, and I want to think I’m free, but I don’t know if they’ll ever give up. I still remember ways to crack into their files, their records and videos, and all. If I were brave, I’d give it all up to the police so they could track down those bastards.”
The last few hairs left of the long ponytail stung as Grim cut their strings, but immediately after, Misha’s head felt so insanely light, and soft waves fell against his jaw.
“You are brave,” said Grim. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to get the first guy back in Tennessee. You distracted them.”
Misha smiled and touched the endings of his hair, ecstatic over how much weight had been taken off his heart with that one cut. “Nah, you would have managed.” He tipped his head back and gave Grim a kiss.
Grim smirked and pressed the cut hair, still tied together with the elastic band, into Misha’s hand. “Yours.”
“Thank you.” He looked at the bundle of hair that had been a burden for so long just for Gary’s pleasure. Misha shook his head vigorously, enjoying how light it felt now. “So … that’s why I said I’d understand it if you wanted to leave. Because I have a target on my back, and I might never wash it off.”
Grim smirked, resting his chin on Misha’s shoulder. Even now, he was so ridiculously well groomed. And he didn’t do it because someone told him to. It seemed he just enjoyed his hair sleek and his face clean-shaven. “No one will cry if I’m gone anyway. ”
“I guess there wouldn’t be, because I’d be dead as well.” Misha reached up and stroked Grim’s smooth cheek.
Grim laughed and put his big, mean-looking knife back into a pouch at his hip. “It’s nice to have someone over. It’s been years since I had a guest.”
“Could we have a little campfire? I’d like to burn these.” He pointed to the hair with his head. “I’ve also got something else of Gary’s that I’d want to get rid of.”
Grim stiffened. “A fire? Why don’t you just ... bury it?”
“It won’t feel like it’s really … gone, you know? Like the flash drive from Gary. Now that the chip is gone, I’ll keep stealthy, and I want it all behind me. Gone.”
Grim grimaced. “Why don’t you give it to the police?”
Misha shook his head quickly and squeezed his hand around the hair. “They’d know it was me and retaliate. I think now they might just forget about me. I know it’s selfish not to tell the police, but I’m so sick of living in fear, wondering if I’m entertaining enough for Gary, or if I’m bringing him enough money, or if I will meet Zero again.”
Grim’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he finally gave Misha a nod. “But we’ll take precautions. Don’t want another fire around here.”
“Yes, scoutmaster. We will.” Misha turned around and planted a kiss on Grim’s lips.