43. Arsen
43
ARSEN
“I think he’s waking up.”
My head hurts like a motherfucker, but I’m not so far gone that I can’t recognize Gedeon’s voice.
So far, so good.
I blink my eyes open slowly, taking pains not to make any sudden movements until I know the extent of the damage.
“Arsen?”
Dominik. I recognize him, too.
Little by little, I’m coming back to myself. If someone asked me what year it was, I’m eighty percent sure I’d get it right.
In regards to pulling myself from the tangle of scrap metal that must be my car, I’m a little less certain. But it has to be done. I have to get out of this car. Back to Laila.
But when my vision finally clears, I don’t see debris or darkness. I’m staring at the bright light of a hospital room. The smell of alcohol and disinfectant is so strong, it’s dizzying.
Or maybe that’s the concussion.
“How long have I been out?” My voice is a painful, raspy whisper. Judging from the fresh bruise peeking out from beneath the bandages around my arm, it hasn’t been long since the crash.
“A couple of hours. I wanted to do a house call,” Dominik rushes to explain, “but you were knocked out. We didn’t know how bad things were. So I brought you here.”
“And?”
I lift an arm and Gedeon grabs hold of it, pulling me into an upright position. The ache in my body is dull. I should be able to walk this off.
“You have a couple of bruised ribs, lesions along your arms, and a forehead contusion,” Dominik says like he’s reciting my chart from memory.
I shove the thin blanket off my lap to discover that I’m still wearing my suit pants. My shirt is draped over the arm of the plastic chair at my bedside. It’s covered in dried, red blood.
“ Blyat ’,” I whisper as the full memory of the night sharpens into focus.
“I’ve got clothes you can change into,” Gedeon offers.
“Where’s Jasper?” I remember the gunshot, but everything after that happened too quickly. I don’t even know if he was hit. “The gun went off.”
“I can’t believe he pulled a gun on you,” Gedeon growls.
“He’s an ungrateful bastard,” Dominik adds.
“It wasn’t his gun; it was mine.” I close my eyes and try to piece together anything useful, but there’s only the deafening shot and then darkness. “He tried to grab the wheel, and I pulled it on him.”
“That’s why you swerved,” Dom realizes.
“I told him his time was up and I was letting him go, and he lunged for the wheel. I got it back, but then we hydroplaned.”
“When did you shoot him?” Dom asks.
I stiffen. “So he was shot?”
“Only in the arm,” Dominik assures me. “He was conscious and blubbering away when I handed him over to Valentin.”
“Where is he now?”
“Some hospital out of state. I didn’t want anyone connecting the dots between the two of you. Plus, getting him out of state was the goal, right? I figured all of this shouldn’t be for nothing.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “He’s alive, then?”
Dominik scoffs, looking down at his phone like he’s expecting a call. “The bullet barely grazed him. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“But you don’t know?” I stand up, the room spinning for only a second before everything solidifies. “What are you not telling me?”
“Valentin should have checked in by now,” Dominik admits, flashing his phone at me. “I dispatched Lenin an hour ago to check on things, but still no word.”
I grab the fresh shirt that Gedeon throws my way. “Something is wrong. Valentin never misses a check-in.”
And Jasper is crazed. Desperate.
“Do you really think Jasper would…?” Gedeon’s voice trails off as he glances from Dom to me.
We all know the answer to that. Right now, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do.
“Fuck,” Dom mutters, clearly frustrated with himself. “Of course he would! Jasper is nothing but a rat that feeds off others in order to survive. I told Valentin not to let the mudak out of his?—”
The sharp blast of his phone interrupts his speech. Dominik fumbles to answer it and transfers the call to the speaker.
“Lenin,” he barks, “did you locate Valentin?”
“He’s dead,” I hear him say through the phone. Dominik goes pale as Lenin continues. “Found him with his brains blown out in the woods, about a hundred meters from the main road.”
“No…” Dominik breathes.
I grab the phone from Dom’s hand. “Any sign of Jasper?”
“No, sir. Not a trace. We scoured the woods. There was a blood trail for a bit, but it tapered off. The man’s dust in the wind.”
Lenin is dead because of me. Because I gave Jasper one too many chances.
I won’t make that mistake again.
“Set up a manhunt for Jasper. I want him back—dead or alive.”
By the time I get home, it’s been a full day since the crash. Since the dinner. I’ve identified a body, passed the news to Valentin’s family. I’ve come face to face with my failure and done my best to make my peace with it.
But as I walk the still, quiet halls of my home, what I can’t unsee is my totaled car. I can’t even blink without seeing Nina’s car seat crushed to a pulp in the back.
They could have been with me.
The brakes were cut, and Laila and Nina could have been in the car with me. They would’ve been, if Jasper hadn’t thrown his fit.
I try to find some comfort in the silence—in the knowledge that my wife and daughter are upstairs somewhere, sleeping peacefully in their beds—but the threat isn’t gone.
For now, Laila and Nina are safe. But I’ve just unleashed a wild card out into the world. One with a motive and a reason to hate me.
When I next see Jasper—and I know I will—he won’t be coming for me.
He’ll be coming for my family.