Chapter 6 – Freya
My lungs were on fire, the fierce, rhythmic beats of my heart pounding like drums in my ears, but it didn’t stop me from mouthing the “KEHLANI ” lyrics in line with Jordan as I flicked the beads of sweat off my forehead and picked up my speed.
I like the way your body is.
Is that too obvious?
Okay, I like your confidence....
My new white Nike sneakers went down hard on the asphalt as my pulse quickened. A cool evening breeze brushed my face, ruffling strands of hair behind my ears while I jogged down the street. Car lights flashed, and above, twilight fell, the sky set ablaze with a fiery palette of colors. I didn’t have to look up; the view was breathtaking.
In the pouch strapped around my waist, my phone buzzed. I took it out, swiped away another bead of sweat running down my jaw, and smiled at the text from Ruby.
6:25 PM
Ruby: So, I’m at Cloud 9 (that really cool club downtown I told you about and still couldn’t get you to come to) *sigh* and I swear, I’m looking at the sexiest man alive right now.
I laughed and fixed my eyes on the screen to respond to her. Rapidly, my fingers flew across the keyboard.
6:27 PM
Me : Ru, I’m pretty sure that’s not the sexiest man alive. And even if he is, there are more important things to face in the real world than men and how chiseled their jaws are.
I clicked send, and the bubbles popped up almost immediately. Her message flew right in barely a second later.
6:27 PM
Ruby: Says the crime-fighting boss bitch. YOU have real world shit to take care of. I’ll deal with the hunk. And you’re only saying that because you haven’t SEEN him— Oh, my God, Freya. I’ve got to go now. He’s coming this way. Text you later.
I snickered and slid the phone back into the pouch.
At least one of us was having fun. I had nothing else to do except hit the gym after work, go home to munch on a full bowl of Nutella-stuffed chocolate cookies, sleep, and prepare to go back to work early the following morning.
Such an exciting life I lived.
I hastened my pace, going past the eighth block.
My house was only ten blocks from the gym, but I thought I’d be faster if I plugged in another of the new songs I’d sighted on John’s audio playlist. I didn’t bother to note the artist’s name, but the mashup of the lyrics and beat coursed through my veins like a stimulant.
I spotted my house behind the line of trees and slowed down. Another jog past the trees, a few white low-iron fences, and my neighbor’s barking dog, and I was home.
I got to my doorstep, and the motion sensor light on the porch came on. Bending forward, I propped my hands on my knees to catch my breath. Sweat rolled down my back and arms and dripped from my forehead to the wooden floor.
God, I couldn’t wait to take a shower.
I started to raise my head, and that’s when I spotted it: the slight space between the door and its frame. It was just barely ajar. In fact, the space was so minimal that I might have missed it if I hadn’t looked closer.
The muscles in my body tensed, and all the warning alarms in my head went off. Someone had broken in, and I had to make sure they weren’t still hovering around the area.
Slowly, my hand went to the pouch on my waist, clutching the phone, and with my eyes trained on the door, I took a step back.
My back hit something solid, like fabric draped on a wall. The only difference was that this wall had a beating heart and wore expensive cologne. I felt his body heat seep through the thin fabric of my sports bra and leggings and the cold metal digging into my skin at the small of my back.
A gun.
My breath hitched in my throat, and the adrenaline that had earlier pumped into my veins had morphed into something else. Panic, maybe. Even if I’m never going to admit that in a million years.
Shit.
I was defenseless. This sucker couldn’t have chosen a better time to get me.
I gritted my teeth, heat curling in my stomach. How could I have been so susceptible?
“Look,” I started, speaking lowly, “if you came here looking for money, you aren’t going to find anything, okay? So, I suggest you turn around and head home.”
“And I suggest you shut up, girlie.” The gun traveled deeper to the base of my spine, and his breath fanned my ear, his voice hard. “If I needed money, I’d form some shitty story about a dying grandma with no hope of getting life support on GoFundMe. Now, fucking move. Open the door and go in. Don’t make me use the gun.”
This should have been that part where I pulled a sick stunt and spiraled my way out of there, but the more rational part of my instinct, the part that actually cared about living a few more years longer, reminded me that this intruder had a gun. I wouldn’t make it very far.
Reluctantly, I moved forward like cinder blocks were tied to my feet. The man shoved me into the living room, and the breath left my lungs.
Right there, seated comfortably with one leg crossed over the other on my gray settee, was the darkness himself, staring back at me with fiery green eyes, like a predator ready to rip his prey to shreds.
Egor Yezhov had escaped from the jail cell.
His lips quirked to the side and fell. And when he spoke, his brittle tone and the cold tremors running down my spine suddenly reminded me of a million and one reasons why I should never have threatened him.
“Nice place you’ve got here, Detective. Did you know, research says that organized people like yourself usually have lots of secrets buried?”
This was the best time to pull that stunt, if I had a sliver of audacity left. But I wasn’t feeling very audacious at the moment.
I was , however, feeling light-headed, like the ground beneath me was swaying and the Earth was spinning.
His snide comment hit a sore spot, digging up memories of my dad and uncle. But I fought to retaliate with something snarky.
“You know, I almost didn’t recognize you with this”—I motioned to his appearance— “hoodie phase you’re going through. Are you trying to drown your identity in the size of that thing?”
“I mean, that’s the point, isn’t it? To not be recognized. Although, technically, I’m not a fugitive. This isn’t a case of prison break. I was released on bail.” His eyes twinkled dangerously, and he played with the strings on the oversized hood. “You like it?”
I eyed him. His hair looked like a bird’s nest, like his fingers had rushed through his scalp multiple times, and his fingertips had something like charcoal dust on them.
“You feeling like a junkie yet?”
He laughed, and I didn’t expect the sound of it to be as hearty and throaty as it was. “Would that change your perception of me?”
My smile matched his. “You mean the perception where I see you as both a junkie and a murderer?”
That wiped the glimmer of mischief from his eyes, and he returned to assuming the stoic expressions of one of the statues in downtown LA, restating the real reason he was here.
“You know, Detective, you’ve got a lot of guts. And strangely, I like it. Coming across a woman who’s able to hold her ground is not something I see every day. But as much as I would like to commend you for your display of courage—because threatening a man like myself takes a lot of bravery—I won’t. Not everyone can do that, and the ones that did try it lived for only three hundred seconds.”
Five minutes.
I swallowed.
I had only five minutes to get out of here.
Egor was still talking. “I must say that it was as clever as it was stupid.” He tutted but was a far cry from looking disappointed. “What did you think? That I wouldn’t be able to make it out of that shithole before ten days was up? You underestimated me, and that’s going to be to your detriment.”
He was right; I’d underestimated him—downplayed his true potential and, maybe, should have done better research to know who exactly I was dealing with. But there was no time for that now. I barely had three minutes on the clock.
He said to the man behind me, “ Podnimi ee.”
Lift her.
I seized the moment to strike.
I twisted to my right side to create a gap big enough, clenched my fist, and swung an arm into the man behind me. My fist connected with his jaw, and he growled a dark, “ Fuck.”
Quickly, I set for the hills but didn’t make it very far.
He lurched forward, grabbed my hair— why did I decide today, of all days, to put my hair in a braided ponytail?— and yanked me backward. I wrestled his side. The man with the buzzcut, the one who stood behind me, was a lot taller than I’d imagined him to be, so it was easier to attack his waistline and arms with swift punches.
He shoved me hard, but I didn’t budge. I went on defense, kicked my feet up, and swung my arm again, but I didn’t hit him in time.
His bulky arm came flying down, and his folded fingers collided with my face. Hard.
I swore.
I felt that one.
Pain racked through my face, and it took resilience not to double over and cry my eyes out.
I steadied myself, ready to launch a counterattack, but the ground beneath me swayed, and spots formed in my vision. “What the....”
My breath faltered.
I staggered backward, and the shadow of black baggy clothes passed from behind me, grunting, “ Podnimi ee, Arlo . ”
My feet left the ground, a blanket of darkness covered me, and a husky voice ushered me into subconsciousness.
“Lights out, Detective.”