Preston
As I enter my old bedroom, freshly showered, my phone screen lights up.
I close the door and let the towel drop to the floor.
The souvenir shop at Zlota Casino needs to seriously up their sleepwear range.
I'll go thrifting with Mom while I'm here, but for now, I slip on a pair of neon-orange shorts printed with playing cards and a matching tank top that says "Lucky in Reno" across the chest and check my phone.
I struggle to make it out at first but smile when I see it's a message from Vadim. My smile dies when I read it.
Vadim: Hey. Can you please give me a call once you're settled in? Need to discuss adding some surveillance cameras to your parents’ house.
I drop onto my bed with a heavy sigh.
Why do I get the impression Vadim's pulling away? He is. He's acting differently. I had to ask him outright to get him to admit he'd miss me. And even before the explosion, in the morning over breakfast at his place, he was distant. Hesitant to touch me.
And now all I get is this?
Me: Aren't you going to ask how my trip was?
Vadim: I already know. You stopped twice.
Once because you had to pee. Once because you wanted to get a soft serve at the Dairy Queen in Vacaville because you swear they're the best. You arrived at your parents’ place three hours ago.
You recently sat in the den before going upstairs and taking a shower.
Or a bath. That part I don't know, but I'm confident you've spent the last twenty minutes in the bathroom.
My jaw practically unhinges.
Me: How do you know all that?
Vadim: Krzysztof reports to me every half an hour.
When Vadim told me a bodyguard would drive me down, I didn't fight him on it. My eyesight is still mainly fine during the day, but it's a long drive, and I was happy to let someone else handle it.
Me: Right. That's borderline creepy, you know?
Vadim: What's on the other side of the creepy border?
I will not smile, I will not smile.
Damn it. I'm smiling.
Me: Not sure yet. You're hard to read. Sometimes, I feel you like me. Other times, I feel like you're pulling away.
The three bouncy dots appear then disappear a few times before his next message comes through.
Vadim: Your safety is my #1 priority.
I'm itching to type back that I am safe and what's his number 2 priority? But then I run the risk of appearing needy and also slightly delusional since, hello, we aren't technically dating.
Me: I'm safe. So you don't have to worry. And I'll check with Mom and Dad to see if they're cool about installing cameras.
Vadim: I assume you've told them what went down. How did they react?
Me: They were, and still are, shocked.
Me: Which is to be expected.
Vadim: That's to be expected.
I smile.
Me: Jinx.
He doesn't reply right away. His next message comes through three minutes later.
Vadim: Sorry. The takeout I ordered arrived.
Vadim: And sorry if I've been giving mixed signals.
I wait, hoping he'll write something more, but he doesn't.
Hey, at least I've put it out there, and he's acknowledged it.
Me: It's okay. And I know you hate it when I say this, but I'm going to anyway. Thank you for everything you're doing to keep me safe. I appreciate it.
It takes almost two minutes for his next text to come through, but when it does, I smile and understand that's about the time it would have taken to find the perfect meme.
It's a guy in a black suit, sipping what looks like whiskey, tapping his finger along the edge of a wooden table, his expression a cross between pissed off and cocky.
If that's his way of admonishing me for thanking him, I'll take it.
Me: Thanks for checking in on me even though you have a spy outside. I'll speak to Mom and Dad about the cameras and let you know tomorrow.
Vadim: I'd prefer to know later tonight.
Vadim: If that's possible.
Me: Leave it with me. I'll see what I can do