37
I lie on the floor with my mother, holding her and crying with her. I have no words to comfort her, only deep pain that's exploding inside me and I can't contain it.
“Good thing they didn’t see you,” she mumbles. “Good thing they didn’t see my beautiful daughter.”
“Mom,” I can’t stop the tears. “You’re so brave.”
“I must lie down in bed for a while.” She sits up and I help her stand. “I think we should call the police again. Maybe this time they'll come, maybe—”
“Mom, ‘maybe’ isn’t good enough.” I shout and she lowers her head. She looks exhausted and helpless. I help her up the stairs and tuck her in bed, I cover her with a blanket and stroke her head. “I’ll fix it, Mom,” I say and burst into tears again as she groans in pain. “I’ll fix it,” I say again and go back downstairs. I pick up my cellphone and smile bitterly. Suddenly I’m grateful for my new dark world. I dial Liam’s number and he picks up after one ring.
“Elena,” his tone is cold and my stomach clenches.
“Liam,” I just say his name and I burst into tears.
“Elena, everything’ll be okay. I’m on my way,” his tone has softened, and my heart explodes inside my body.
“How did you know?” I whimper.
“It wasn’t easy. But when something is important to me, I find a way.”
I sniff. “Do you think you’ll be able to get here before midnight?”
“We’re boarding the plane,” he answers, and I hear the concern creeping into his voice. I peek at my watch in panic and calculate quickly in my head.
“Liam, you’ll land at eleven thirty. By the time you get here it'll be too late.”
“The Duchess I know doesn’t talk like she’s lost already,” he says firmly. “Elena, you've dealt with the Russians, the French and the Italians. You can stall three Mexicans for a few minutes.”
“But… but…” I stutter. “If I can’t, then—”
“Elena,” he cuts me off angrily, “you are my Duchess. Mine.” He stresses. “Your reputation precedes you, stall them until we get there. It won’t take long.”
“Alright,” I dry my tears with a paper napkin. “Thank you, Liam.”
“Don’t let me down,” he says firmly and hangs up.
I stare at the phone and sit on the chair. I need to put on a show without the girls’ support, without Victor and Leo and without Charlie, who knows when to pull out his hunting rifle at exactly the right moment. I put my head down on the table and look at the clock. The time passes slowly.
Fear is eating me up and my man, my savior, is still so far away. Fate must be laughing at me. The thoughts are spinning around my head together with all the events of the last few weeks. I look at the clock again and realize with horror that the hands are pointing to eleven o’clock.
I run upstairs and shake my mother. She opens her red eyes and grunts in pain.
“Mom, I need you to help me,” I force her to sit up and she looks at me with glazed eyes. “You have to pull yourself together and help me. If my plan works, they’ll never bother you again.” Her eyes widen in curiosity and she is about to speak. “No questions.” I say aggressively. “The last idea didn’t work, now we'll try something else and pray it will work.” She sits up and I feel that I have my mother back. “I need you to do exactly as I ask, no comments and no questions.” Surprisingly, she just nods. “I need you to help me look like a duchess.”
“What?” she asks in astonishment.
“I said no questions,” I raise my voice, and she puts her hand on her mouth and nods. “Not just any duchess,” I explain. “A duchess who looks like Dracula's long-lost sister.”
She opens her mouth again but shuts it when I narrow my eyes at her in anger. She gets up with difficultly and hobbles to her closet, rummaging through the clothes hanging there, shaking her head, until finally, she pulls out a plastic bag and lays it on the bed.
“I wore this to a costume party a few years ago. It was great, I think it will do the job.” She undoes the zipper and removes a tight, long black dress with a faux leopard-fur cloak. I nod in satisfaction and take off my clothes. She helps me into the costume and studies my body. “You lost weight,” she murmurs in disappointment.
“Mom, this isn't the time.” I tie the cloak around my neck. “Find me a wide black belt.”
“But that's not a part of the costume,” she says and falls silent when I growl in annoyance. She fastens a wide black belt around my waist, and I sit on the edge of the bed.
“I need you to do my makeup, I want it to be heavy with smoky eyes. Make my eyes stand out and look threatening. And my lips with red lipstick,” I tell her, and she brings out her make-up bag and applies it skillfully to my exact orders. “Now my hair.” I tilt my head sideways and she picks up the hairbrush and flinches back. “Mom, you can brush it,” I straighten my neck and she lays the brush hesitantly on my head. “Come on, we don't have time. Brush it and make it shine, just like yours.” She starts brushing my hair and then oils it generously. I put on her high-heeled shoes and stand up, staring at my strange reflection in the mirror. “Perfect,” I say. “It’s so twisted, it has to be perfect.”
I start going towards the stairs, and she follows me. “Do you have a pocketknife?” I stop and she looks at me with a horrified expression. “Come on, Mom, we don’t have time.” I growl. She returns to the bedroom, brings out a shoebox, and opens it in front of my astonished eyes. Pocketknives in all sizes and colors.
“This collection was your father’s hobby when he was very young,” she shrugs. “I don’t even know why I kept it.”
I choose two knives, check their springs, hide one in my belt and another in the side of my panties.
“Will you explain everything later?” she asks nervously, and I shake my head no, and smile at her.
“Later, if everything works out—I’d be very happy if you forget everything you'll see here today.”
She nods in confusion and follows me downstairs. “We have ten minutes,” I say and close my eyes. I press my hands together and say a prayer. The tension in my body is paralyzing, and I force myself to calm down. I sketch a table with two columns in my head and fill in all the possible scenarios. Slowly, everything becomes clear and I’m breathing steadily.
There are loud knocks on the door and my mother collapses on a kitchen chair, clutching her stomach. “My beautiful daughter,” she whimpers in a panic, “what will they do to my beautiful daughter?” she bends over in pain and then looks at me anxiously. “Why don’t you hide again? And after they take me you can go to the police and—”
“Mom, be quiet.” I whisper and clench my hands into fists. “From now on, you aren’t my mother, you don’t even know me. And you’re just as afraid of me as you are of them.” She shakes her head hysterically and I signal with my finger for her to be quiet. I walk over to the door, swing it open and immediately move back.
“Who are you?” I shout and throw my head back.
“Who’s this bitch?” the guy with the snake tattoo asks and walks towards me.
“Who did you call a bitch?” I tilt my head from side to side slowly and narrow my eyes at him.
“What’s that thing?” the second guy asks as he looks at me in disgust.
“That thing is busy getting the money it’s owed.” I slam the wall and march into the kitchen. They follow me. My mother is sitting there, her head low and she is clutching her stomach. “Are you still here?” I growl and they stop in their tracks. I stand behind my mother and stroke her head. “I told you that you had until midnight to get my money, and you…” I take out the pocketknife, snap it open, look at it lovingly and place it against her neck. She’s breathing heavily but doesn’t say a word. “You thought you were playing with kids,” I smirk, making sure that the blade doesn’t scratch her. “You thought you were dealing with Mexican dogs?” I look straight at them and spit on the floor. “Come here!” I scream at the guy on the left. He’s probably so shocked by my performance that he immediately walks and stands in front of me. I slap him so hard that his head flies sideways. His friends start cursing loudly and come towards me quickly. “Stop!” I scream and open my eyes as wide as I can. “Whoever lays a hand on the Duch—”
“On my Duchess, will pay with his life,” Liam finishes my sentence as he bursts in, looking at me with an expression that makes my heart expand and explode into thousands of tiny pieces inside my body. He walks to me slowly, stands close to me, and feels me from the waist down.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, holding myself back from jumping on him and hug him.
“Shhh,” he whispers and slips his hand under my dress, takes the knife out of the side of my panties and winks at me. He turns around to face the guy I just slapped and stabs him in the heart. My mother screams hysterically and the guy crashes down to the floor, his body twitching and squirming.
Liam turns to me and kisses me gently on the lips.
“What will we do with these two?” The amused German accent makes me smile in relief, and Liam continues looking at me until he finally turns around. We both look at Ralph who’s holding the two other guys. They look at us in terror.
“Scarface…” the first one mutters. “And the crazy German…” the other replies and shivers. “Nobody will believe us.” The first one rubs his eyes and then nervously opens them wide. “Wait, you must be the Duchess everyone is talking about.”
“Actually, I would like to hear what they're saying about you on the other side of the country,” Ralph laughs and pushes them forward. “Sit!” he orders, and they obey like obedient children. I go to the sink and pour my mother a glass of water. She sips from the glass cautiously and looks at me as if I'm a stranger. I stroke her head and Liam stands behind me hugging me tight.
“Well…” Ralph says to the men angrily and takes out a pack of cigarettes. He lights one and throws the pack on the table. “Tell us what they say about her.”
They look at each other fearfully and the tattooed man starts talking. “They say that she was alone at the bar when the Russians came. That she invited one of them to go upstairs with her and as soon as he took his clothes off, she pulled a pocketknife out of her panties and castrated him.”
“Good God!” I whisper and Liam lays his hand on my mouth. I fall silent and he moves his hand to stroke my hair.
“What else?” Ralph asks with a straight face.
“They say that then the French came,” the other says excitingly, “and they found her doing voodoo with, you know, what she cut off from the Russian.”
“Interesting,” Ralph stifles a smile. “And what happened with the Italians?”
“Oh, the Italians went to war because of her.” The first one is speaking again, as excitingly as the second. “When they came, she was already insane. She stabbed the younger son's hand to the table and she spat on the father.”
“Nice,” Ralph sums it all up, and I see my mother swaying in her chair, about to faint. “It's all true, but whoever told you that left out some really horrible things that the Duchess did. They probably felt sorry for you. Duchess, would you like to show them?” He turns to me with a smile that shows his white teeth and I step out of Liam’s embrace and walk over to him.
I look at them with wide, crazy eyes and they cringe backward. “Leave it,” I tell him dryly, “they’re not worth wasting my energy. Even though, like I always say, energy isn’t wasted, it’s just transf—”
Ralph coughs and cuts me off. “Now tell me what they say about me.” He puffs his cigarette calmly and they look terrified.
“They say that you’re a crazy German,” the tattooed one says and lowers his gaze to the floor.
“That's all?” Ralph asks in disappointment. He bends down, pulls the knife out of the dead guy lying on the floor and scratches an ‘X’ into the forehead of the tattooed man. The guy starts screaming in terror and Ralph does the same thing to the other guy, who also starts screaming. “Just a crazy German is good, isn’t it?” he asks Liam.
“It’s very good,” Liam nods seriously and Ralph wrinkles up his forehead and thinks.
“Alright, I believe you know what will happen if one hair of this lovely lady's hair falls off,” he winks at my mother and she smiles back proudly.
“And young,” she adds with a burst of self-confidence.
“This lovely, young lady,” Ralph says and looks at her strangely. “And that means that now you are also responsible for her safety. Do we understand each other?”
They nod repeatedly and Ralph kicks the dead man. “Take this garbage out and come back every day to take her garbage to the curb.”
They jump out of their chairs, pick up the body and start to leave. Just before they do, the tattooed man turns around and lowers his head respectfully. “Thank you, thank you!” he exclaims emotionally.