22. Zora
ZORA
Kazimir keeps his hand on my back as we climb the stairs to my floor.
The entire drive was agonizingly quiet. I could tell by his clenched jaw and flared nostrils that he's afraid of what's going to happen and that fear is coming out as defensiveness and anger.
I begged him to walk me up here and now he thinks he's protecting me from the men who tried to break in.
He doesn't know those men share my last name.
We reach my door and I stop, frozen solid, staring at the deadbolt I locked behind me a half-hour ago which is hanging loose from the frame. The wood around it is splintered and the door's cracked open about two inches. A strip of light from inside spills across the hallway carpet.
"Stay behind me," Kazimir says, stepping in front of me and pushing the door open with his shoulder.
The apartment's destroyed. My couch cushions are on the floor with the zippers torn open.
The bookshelf is pulled away from the wall and the books are scattered across the carpet in pieces.
The kitchen drawers are open and the contents are dumped across the counter and the floor. Every cabinet door is hanging wide.
Kazimir stalks through each room while I stand in the doorway. I hear him checking the bathroom, the bedroom, the closet. He comes back shaking his head.
"Nobody's here," he says. "But they went through everything."
I step inside and look at the mess. The dresser drawers in my bedroom are pulled out and my clothes are on the floor.
The mattress is shoved halfway off the bed frame.
The photos I hid before Kazimir came over last time are scattered across the carpet, face down, and my mother's scrapbook is open on the floor with pages bent and torn.
Thank God he didn't take time to look at those very carefully.
My brothers did this. They weren't looking for anything because they already have everything they need. This was a message. A reminder of what happens when I pull away. Those fuckers had to have heard me trying to get Kazimir to stay at the apartment, which means they bugged my apartment somehow.
And I fucking wondered what that text message meant the other night.
Bogdan's little "thank you" text made no sense.
I thought he was telling me it was okay for me to drop back now, fade out of Kazimir's life.
No, what he was saying was that he set me up.
Somehow, they got in and left a listening device here and that's how they knew about the fights.
I never told them.
I would never have done that to Kazimir. I couldn’t stand the idea of him going to prison or being shot at by a police officer.
"We should call the police," Kazimir says, pulling out his phone.
"No." I grab his wrist before he can dial. "No police, Kaz."
"Zora, someone broke into your apartment and tore it apart.
" I watch his jaw work and know even the suggestion of a police officer has to be hard for him.
He still thinks I believe he's just a gym owner who dabbles in fighting.
He's so sweet and so na?ve, but I know as well as he does if the police look into this very far, they'll figure out who Kaz is, who I am, and it'll blow up in my face.
"I know what happened." I pick up one of the couch cushions and toss it back onto the frame. "I don't want cops involved in my life right now. They'll file a report and nothing will come of it and I'll spend three hours answering questions I don't have answers to."
He scowls as he looks around, but then his eyes rise to meet mine. It's pretty bad, and if this were really an intruder, I'd be terrified. I am sort of terrified. Who knows what stupid shit Bogdan is capable of if he loses his temper? But Kaz doesn't need to worry himself now. The worst is done.
"I can stay here tonight," he says. "I'll sleep on the couch and we'll clean up in the morning."
"I don't want to stay here." I look around at the mess and I can barely pull a full breath.
"Kaz, can we go to your place? I'll grab some clothes and we can come back tomorrow when it's daylight.
" I don't have to pretend I'm scared anymore at all.
Most of that was just an act to try to keep him from being at that fight.
I thought they'd blow the fucking building up.
I'm glad it was just them ratting him out.
Police aren't dangerous unless you pull a weapon or try to run. Which, Kazimir may honestly have done if he felt cornered. But he was with me, delayed just long enough to keep him out of harm's way. Though, I'm sure his family isn't happy about the blow to their reputation.
"Of course we can," he says, sighing. "You're always welcome at my place, baby." He walks over to me and kisses my forehead, but I pull away.
"Give me five minutes."
I walk to the bedroom, stepping over the clothes on the floor, and pull a bag from the closet.
I stuff jeans and shirts and underwear into it without folding anything.
My toothbrush and makeup bag go on top. Then I pick up my mother's scrapbook from the floor and close it carefully and tuck it into the bag between two shirts because it's the one thing in this apartment I can't leave behind.
I'm overly cautious of the smoke detector and lamp, and the streaming device on my dresser.
Any one of them could have the listening device in it.
Yefim's people are good at this and they've had access to my building for months.
Everything I've said in this apartment, every phone call, every conversation with Kazimir while I lay in this bed talking on the phone, all of it could be recorded and stored on a server in Yefim's office.
This has to end. I have to tell him the truth tonight, before he hears it from someone else.
I don't think I have a chance in hell of him forgiving me, but I've decided it's better to hear it from the mouth of a friend than from a stranger.
I need to confess my part and help him see who's destroying him before they escalate and do something worse.
I won't let them hurt him physically again.
I zip the bag and walk back to the living room where Kazimir's leaning against the wall with his arms folded. "Ready?" he asks.
"Ready."
He takes the bag from my hand and slings it over his shoulder as we walk out.
I pull the broken door shut as best I can, but it doesn't latch.
It swings open again behind us as we head down the stairs.
Anyone could walk right in and take anything they want, but there's nothing I can do about that tonight.
He loads my bag into the car and helps me sit down. It's been a shit night for both of us, and he doesn't realize it's about to get worse for him. I just have to figure out how to tell him without breaking down and abandoning myself. I really never thought my brothers would take it so far.
"Kaz," I say, turning to him. "What happened at the fights tonight? With the police."
He turns briefly to look out the window and then leans in his seat, reaching over to grab my knuckles and bring them to his lips. His eyes mostly stay on the road, but I can see his jaw working. He's tense and upset, and I don't blame him.
"Nothing to worry about, baby. Okay? I have it under control." I can't tell if this is more shielding, because he doesn't want me to know he runs illegal fights, or if he is too upset to talk.
"I'm serious. Do you know why the cops showed up?"
His hand grips mine harder and he scowls. "I'm not sure. I think someone called in a tip about the fight, and well…" He says the next part with a lot of frustration in his tone. "What I do isn't exactly legal."
"Do you know who called it in?" I don’t bat an eyelash at him because I already knew that.
My chest is just ready to explode wondering if he knows it was my brothers.
If he knows it might've been my fault. I feel this compulsive need to tell him the truth, and that it should come from my lips, not someone else’s.
"No." He checks his mirrors and changes lanes. "But whoever it was knew exactly when I left the building. Those cops showing up while I was gone? Not a coincidence."
"Could it be the same people who've been messing with your phone?" I chew the inside of my cheek, trying not to let him know I'm anxious. My palms are so sweaty. I don't want him to hate me. I want him to love me, and after this, I don't think he'll even want to look at me.
"That's what Timur thinks." He rubs his jaw with one hand. "The phone thing, the American, and now this. It's all connected, but we can't see the thread."
"I'm sorry I made you leave tonight," I say. This guilt is swallowing me alive. I know the thread he can't find because I'm the thread. Bogdan's little scheme has worked out for him better than he could ever have imagined, and I got caught in the middle of it.
"Don't apologize for that." He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it again. "You were scared and I came to get you. I'd do it again. Besides." He chuckles. "If I were there, I'd have been arrested for sure. You saved me from being locked up tonight.”
The car grows quiet for a minute and I know now is the time.
I have to tell him the truth and help him try to see my side.
I was forced to play along with their game long after I was comfortable.
And if I tell him about the baby, maybe he won't be so mad.
Maybe he can look past how stupid I've been.
I open my mouth, ready to tell him the truth, when his phone rings through the car speakers.
He glances at the screen and uses the buttons on his steering wheel to answer.
"Stepan," he says.
"Where are you right now?" Stepan's tone’s clipped. He's pissed off and he has every right to be. It makes me wince and pull my hand away from him in shame. The mood is broken and I can't tell him now.