Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DAKOTA
As I heard the sound of Micah’s garage door shutting, I hopped off the bed and grabbed my bag, then scrambled into the bathroom. The heated tiles were warm under my feet as I tugged on my socks and jeans, then pulled my sweater over my head, covering up Micah’s t-shirt.
He’d just left to go pick up food for us, and I needed out of this house. All day, he’d been distant and irritated, keeping me at arm’s length. Never letting me any closer—never letting me any farther, either. I wasn’t going to miss my opportunity to escape.
Plus, I’d promised Mila I would sleep over tonight, and I really, really wanted to keep that promise. I needed some time for myself.
I wiped off some of the smudged mascara under my eyes, then packed up the rest of my things and tiptoed downstairs.
Both Mason and Micah were gone—I was alone in the house.
Maybe I could’ve used the time to snoop or investigate, to try and put together some of the pieces of Micah’s life, but I wanted to get out of here before it got too dark.
Looking out the windows as I walked through the living room, my heart sank slightly. It was dimming fast outside, shades of muted blue and indigo painting the trees and sky.
I stuffed my feet in my boots, then left through the back door.
Trudging around the side of the house through the long grass, I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket, the chill in the air stealing my breath.
My heart rate increased every time I glimpsed the dark edges of the forest surrounding Micah’s house, as if a golden-eyed demon was hiding there, watching me now.
Shadows loomed in my periphery, morphing and changing shape when I looked away.
This was stupid.
This was really fucking stupid, and not worth my life.
But I didn’t stop to turn around when I reached the street. My footsteps switched from the soft squish of damp grass to the crunch of gravelly pavement, and I put my hood over my head, my eyes darting around. The street was deserted, and all of Micah’s neighbors were pretty far apart.
There were so many dark places for evil things to conceal themselves within.
I picked up my pace, jogging lightly down the block until I could turn onto a main street with some more houses—and streetlights.
Though I didn’t honestly think streetlights would keep Aamon away.
It wasn’t about the light, necessarily, but about the other things that came with daytime—humans.
Nonetheless, the puddles of yellow light made me feel safer.
The bus stop was about a ten-minute walk from where I was now, but with the rate the sun was setting, clouds rolling in to cover the sky, I didn’t want to risk taking that long.
I kept jogging as best as I could, my bag bumping against my side, my platform boots making the task a bit more difficult. They were heavy and clunky, but since they were essentially the only shoes I’d been wearing for the better part of the last decade, I was relatively used to them.
My lungs strained and my heart pounded, the cold air searing my chest. My cheeks were almost numb by the time I reached the little metal sign denoting the bus stop, my ribs aching and paranoia spotting the edges of all my thoughts.
I wished there was a covered bench, so I could at least have my back protected instead of being vulnerable from all angles.
Whatever.
Too late to wish for those things now.
I stared desperately down the street, waiting for the headlights of the bus to appear.
The metal of the pole was cold as I leaned against it, but it also grounded me in a way, and made me feel marginally more secure.
Tugging my hood further over my head to cover my face, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and shot off a few texts to Mila to let her know I was on my way.
She replied and I felt the vibration in my pocket, but I didn’t check the notification. All my senses were tuned to the outside world surrounding me, my ears straining for footsteps and my eyes skimming the area over and over.
For a second, I almost wanted to cry, to just break down in shaking sobs.
Because, yeah, I was really fucking scared.
Scared of Aamon, scared of what my life was becoming, scared of the person I was allowing myself to be around Mason and Micah. How had everything gotten so fucked up?
I remembered thinking to myself weeks ago that I was digging myself into the deepest hole I’d ever been in, and that I had no clue how far until I reached the bottom, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself until I got there.
At the time, I’d not fully grasped just how deep a hole like this could get.
I’d been worried, but I hadn’t known the half of it.
If nothing else, at least I was smarter now. I knew more.
The bus eventually pulled up.
I climbed on, relief engulfing me as I slumped down in one of the plastic seats and put my earbuds in my ears. The doors whooshed shut and the bus began accelerating as I shuffled through my music.
We rumbled down the road, past telephone wires draped from tall poles, past endless pine trees, past buildings with lit-up signs and dirty windows.
I was getting somehow even more paranoid as we drove, though.
Every time we passed through a dark area, my brain convinced itself that I was seeing glowing yellow eyes, flashing at me between boughs of pine.
Gripping my phone tighter, I looked away from the window.
I’d already made the decision to leave Micah’s house, and I couldn’t change that now.
When it was time, I pulled the cord to request a stop, and the bus stopped at the sign near Mila’s apartment complex.
I thanked the driver and stepped off, not wasting time before I set off towards Mila’s place at the same quick pace as earlier.
It was brighter in this area, more densely populated, with plenty of shitty little restaurants and the occasional dollar store or gas station.
Surely a demon wouldn’t want to be seen here.
Her complex came into sight a few minutes later and I finally felt like I could breathe again as I crossed the cracked parking lot. I saw both her silver SUV and Ivan’s old Chevy Tahoe parked in their usual spots, the familiar sight further soothing my anxiety.
I trudged up the steps to the landing, then turned to continue up the other way—and paused. Ivan was sitting on the top step, smoking a cigarette, staring out at the sky. The cherry glowed red through the darkness, brightening when he took a drag.
“Vanya?” I questioned.
“Hey.” He slowly turned his gaze to meet mine, lines creased between his brows and his mouth turned down. He took another long drag of the cigarette, smoke drifting away into the cold evening air. He looked exhausted.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. There’s just a lot on my mind right now.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I questioned, my nose starting to run from the cold. I shifted my weight onto one foot, leaning against the railing.
“You’ll—” he waved his hand toward the direction of the apartment “—you’ll see inside. It’s about Katya.”
“Is she okay?” A tiny spark of panic blinked brightly in my brain.
“Yes. Yes, she’s fine.” He let out a long exhale and raked a hand through his hair, eyes squeezing shut. I could see the tension in his shoulders when he leaned forward to prop his forearms on his knees. “She’s pregnant.”
“Oh,” I breathed, unsure how to react. Based on Ivan’s demeanor and the fact that he was smoking a cigarette right now—which he rarely did—I assumed this wasn’t a planned or desired pregnancy.
“We’re not keeping it,” he added. “It wasn’t really a hard decision, but you know. Still a lot to think about. Even though we already knew we didn’t want kids. Just makes you wonder about shit.”
“I’m sorry.” I ascended the few steps between us and sat down on the top step with him, joining him in gazing out over the parking lot.
“I have a ring.”
“What? You do?” Excitement brightened my tone and I adjusted how I was sitting to look at Ivan’s side profile. This conversation was successfully distracting me from all my own shit, and I needed that. “Tell me more. Are you going to propose?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “It was supposed to be soon, but I don’t want her thinking I got this idea only because she got pregnant. You know?” Ivan managed to crack a half-grin, a dry laugh falling from his lips, but I could tell this had been weighing on him.
“She won’t think that. She’ll be so happy. Can I see the ring?”
“I don’t have a picture, but it’s inside.
Have Mila show you tomorrow, when Katya and I are gone.
Just in case.” He brought the cigarette to his mouth again, inhaled, then exhaled slowly.
I watched the mesmerizing swirl of the smoke as it dissolved.
“I actually got the ring from that pawn shop you like.”
“I wouldn’t say I like the pawn shop,” I laughed. “It’s just very close to a bus stop, so it’s convenient. And I always need money.”
“Well, I’m going to continue associating it with you.” Ivan tapped some ash off his cigarette and rubbed his palm over his short hair. “I sold some stuff there to get the money for the ring, too. The owner is chill.”
“Yeah. He’s always been nice to me,” I agreed.
“Anyway. Yeah. She’s pregnant. That’s why I’m out here smoking a fucking cigarette.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
A car pulled into the parking lot, headlight beams bouncing, tires crackling on the uneven pavement. I could hear the muffled music from here, the bass vibrating through the air.
“Okay go inside. It’s cold as shit out here. I’m sorry for intercepting you.” He laughed and motioned for me to go.
“That’s okay.” I stood up and brushed off my jeans, tugging the strap of my bag higher on my shoulder.
“I’ll probably see you inside soon. I’ve only got one more cigarette in this pack.”
I paused. “How many cigarettes have you smoked so far?”
He shook his head. “Go inside, Kotyusha.”