Chapter 33 #2
He glanced over at me. “Not until you serve your purpose.”
I had no idea what that meant. I didn’t want to know, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “What’s my purpose?”
He smiled at no one, enjoying this conversation way more than a normal person would. “I want to make sure Axel knows I have you. So he can rot with that guilt for the rest of his life.”
“You just told me he’s undercover. He obviously doesn’t care.”
He focused on the road. “He’ll care when I finally expose him for the rat he is.”
My mind couldn’t focus on one thing for long. Just flashes.
Axel was a Russian cop.
He’d never cared about me.
I was a job.
He left me in jail.
I looked over with repulsion at Sergei, who was assessing each motel as we passed.
I’m already dead. I just haven’t stopped breathing yet.
Every thought felt muffled and far away as my brain fought through the residual drug that Sergei had given me. I stared out the window into the dark. We were in some small town. I didn’t know which one.
Bandit was locked in the backyard, in the rain and without any food, and there was no one to save him.
And I had never been Axel’s wife.
I had just been an assignment.
He wasn’t coming. I was on my own.
Sergei seemed to choose the most depressing, grimy motel he could find.
I sat in the car, handcuffed to the steering wheel while he went in to pay. I looked for someone who might be walking by, someone I could call out to, but there was no one around. There was only one car in the entire parking lot, and it was parked in front of the room closest to the office.
He got back into the truck and drove to the other end of the parking lot. There had to be at least nine empty rooms between ours and the parked car. No one would be able to hear me scream.
“Wait here,” he told me.
He disappeared into the motel for a few minutes before finally reappearing.
Without ceremony, he unlocked the handcuffs from the steering wheel but kept the cool metal dangling from my wrist as he led me into the room.
It was dingy, with a sagging bed, brown particleboard on the walls and a small yellow fridge in the corner.
“You can use the washroom.” He pushed me toward the back.
I gingerly turned on the light. The bathroom was distressingly grimy, but I used the facilities, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t want to think about what was coming next.
“Open the door,” he told me.
I did, bracing myself for the worst.
“Sit down on the floor.”
I slid to the floor, and he grabbed my wrist and clicked the handcuff to the radiator.
“You should be able to reach the sink for water, and the toilet,” he said. “Good enough.”
I stared blankly at him, too afraid to hope that he might leave me alone.
He kept the light on, but he shut the door. I listened carefully, but I couldn’t hear anything from the other side.
I took that moment to finally let hot tears slide down my cheeks. I wiped them away with my sleeve as fast as they came, but I couldn’t stop them.
I sat there for an unknown amount of time.
At first I heard some dragging and some other noises, but now I couldn’t hear anything from the room except the low drone of the television.
I wasn’t even sure if Sergei had somehow slipped out without me knowing.
I sat there long enough that my arm, the one attached to the radiator, started to go numb. I also couldn’t feel my butt.
Had Sergei left? Or just fallen asleep? I listened intently, but the only thing I heard was the distant sound of cars on the highway, the television and the drumming of rain on the roof.
“Pizza delivery,” I heard someone shout through the outer door.
“Coming,” Sergei said, surprising me with his voice on the other side of the door.
I heard the sound of bedsprings, and then feet hit the floor.
Sergei had been so quiet I was surprised he was still in the room.
I listened carefully. He had told me that he needed to eat, and he’d obviously ordered pizza.
Maybe he’d share some of his food with me. I was so hungry. I wiped my nose and face as best as I could with my sleeve and listened to his footsteps crossing the room.
I heard the rattle of the door chain and then the creak of the door opening.
Bang!
That was followed by a loud crash and then intense fighting. I recognized the sound of fists hitting skin. Grunts of pain. Items, both large and small, being smashed.
I sat there in horror, wondering what the hell he was doing to the pizza delivery guy.
Why would he beat the poor guy up?
The fight seemed brutal, ruthless and unending. I covered my ears and shut my eyes, but I could still hear things, objects and bodies being smashed. How long would they fight? Why didn’t it end?
How long could they continue in this manner?
Then, finally, the fighting stopped.
I lifted my head and listened, trying to hear over the pounding of my heart. For a long moment, I heard nothing but silence.
And then movement, and then the sound of footsteps crunching on broken glass.
Something heavy was being moved or shoved aside.
I winced, terrified of how pissed Sergei would be.
Would he take it out on me?
The door rattled, and then it opened.
The light went on, momentarily blinding me, and then I saw a figure standing in the doorway.
Axel.
Oh my god. I stared at him in disbelief, convinced I was hallucinating. But in that moment, I didn’t care.
His voice was hoarse. “Are you hurt?”
It was his voice. I froze, taking all of him in. His hair was messy, and he looked incredibly beat up. Blood was sprayed across his face and clothes and smeared on his hands.
I struggled to speak. “Are you for real?”
He moved with fluid grace to kneel down beside me. “I’m real.” Without any concern for how his own face was bleeding, he focused entirely on me. “Are you injured?”
I couldn’t seem to grasp my reality. “No.”
“Did he hurt you?”
I lifted my hand to his face, starting to grasp that he was actually there in front of me. I couldn’t seem to make sense of what just happened. “You’re the pizza guy?”
He was touching my head, my neck, my shoulders in a very official, medical way. “Are you hurt?”
“He put a needle in my neck. I only woke up a few hours ago.”
He noticed that I was handcuffed. “Hang on.”
He disappeared from the bathroom before I could protest.
“Axel?” My voice sounded pitiful. Through the doorway, I could see a busted, flickering lamp, an overturned table, and what seemed to be an insane amount of feathers floating in the air.
He reappeared and knelt next to me again. This time he had a key in his hand.
He unlocked my wrist, and the second I realized I was free, I flew into his arms.
I cried out with joy when his big arms came around me, crushing me to him in a tight hug.
“You came.” My voice was muffled against his neck.
“I did.”
“He killed Giselle.”
“I know.”
I pulled back my head, looking in his face. “He said you’re a Russian police officer.”
Axel didn’t blink. He just stared at me with something that looked like resignation. “I am. Or at least I used to be.”
My lips trembled. I had so many questions, but I could only stare at his beautiful face and take in the fact that he held me in his arms.
“I thought you got arrested,” my voice was muffled against his neck.
“I know.” He pulled back to stare into my eyes.
“And then Giselle came to get me, and I thought you said she could be trusted.”
He looked sad. “I’m sorry.”
My whole body was shaking, and I felt slightly lightheaded, but I couldn’t seem to stop talking. “He made me leave Bandit outside in the rain.”
“Bandit’s safe. I brought him to stay with someone trustworthy who loves dogs.”
Those words made me weak, and I felt the last of the adrenaline drain out of me. “Oh my god.”
“We need to get out of here. Are you able to walk?”
I nodded, and he helped me stiffly stand up.
Where were we going? Home? Had we even shared a real home together? Between us, I didn’t know what was real or fake. If he was a cop from Russia, did this mean he was going back there? Was our marriage fake? Was he here because he loved me, or because it was his duty?
My mind raced with a hundred questions, but I stayed silent. I was too afraid to ask him in case he told me the truth. I wasn’t sure I could handle anything else today.
“I want you to walk out of this motel room without touching anything and without looking around. Can you do that for me?” His voice was gentle, and his hand warmed the small of my back.
I thought I saw real concern in his eyes, but I wasn’t sure anymore.
I no longer knew what any of his looks meant, if they were real or just pretend.
I nodded.
“Okay, let’s do this nice and easy.”
He turned and guided me out of the bathroom. The main room was a disaster. The mattress was off the bed, pictures had come off the walls, and not a single piece of furniture remained upright. Anything that was breakable had been smashed, and glass littered the worn carpet.
I staggered when I saw Sergei’s boots, attached to lifeless legs, sticking out beside the bed. Most of his body was covered with a mattress.
“Steady,” Axel advised, his hand on my shoulder.
I stumbled across the room, and he reached forward and opened the door to pouring rain. “Come on, we have to go.”
He carefully locked the door behind us and then led me to a vehicle that I’d never seen before and ushered me to the passenger seat.
He started the vehicle and turned on the heat. “Ready?”
I stared through the pouring rain at the dark motel room. “Are we just going to leave him there?”
Axel put the vehicle in gear. “He’ll be found soon enough.”
Axel drove in silence along the dark highway. He looked like he knew where we were going. I was mesmerized by the pouring rain and the thump of the windshield wipers.
Axel came and saved me from Sergei.