Chapter 47
Four Minutes
Jade
"Tell him to go to the bathroom and freshen up for a picture. Come four minutes after him."
I understood the words, but my cognitive brain malfunctioned.
Was I going insane? Was I hallucinating?
His eyes—just like Alex’s. His scent—just like my boyfriend’s. That same divine mix of cologne and cigarettes and simply his skin.
And his words.
No one knew he called me Preziosa. No one ever knew that.
Glued to my chair, I watched the tall man pick up a few glasses from our table and tuck the menu under his arm before heading to the bar. He dropped the glasses off and disappeared to the back of the restaurant, where all the staff go.
He walked like Alex.
Tick, tick, tick.
With every second that escaped, I burned hotter, my body and mind responding to the sight I just witnessed. It was him.
I shot up out of the chair as if electrocuted.
"Xavier!" I trotted over to the other side of the table, where he was immersed in mindless chatter with his friends. He turned to me, mildly surprised. "Your hair’s disheveled and your shirt’s all fucked up.
Go to the bathroom and fix yourself," I ordered, and he stood from the chair, shockingly responsive.
"Let's...let's take a picture." It came out as if I conceded. As if he won.
Xavier melted in a large grin. “Ma belle.” He slithered his claws around my waist. “Of course.” Afraid of a kiss, I leaned away from him, and he got the hint, stepping back. With one last glance filled with salacious joy, Xavier turned and headed toward the men’s room.
Four minutes.
How long was four minutes? Why did he say four minutes? I had no watch; someone give me a watch! The biggest clock in the world, I needed it! Big Ben in London, World Clock in Berlin, Grand Central Clock in New York, I needed them all! To count down four minutes! One! Two! Three! Four!
Tripping over my own feet in the impossibly high heels, I lunged toward my purse and threw it over my shoulder, digging out my phone with shaking hands and focusing on the time.
8:32 p.m.
I could wait. I could wait for Alex until the end of time.
I.
Could.
Wait.
I stood by our table filled with Xavier's rowdy friends and picked at my nails. My eyes watered from how hard I stared in the direction of where he disappeared. It must have been time for sure now!
8:32 p.m.
Fuck!
Was this a dream?! Please don't tell me I was in a dream; time wasn’t moving!
"Hey, buddy! The fuck?" A loud and obnoxious voice sounded somewhere behind me, but I had only one goal, one purpose: wait four minutes.
Tick, tick, tick.
I looked down at the phone in my hands, my heart—
8:34 p.m.
Not a dream! This was rea—
But I was suddenly drowning. There was no water around me, but I was suffocating on oxygen, just like that first night I saw him.
The man. The man who just took my drink order and forced me to wait four long, agonizing, excruciating minutes.
There was no air, and at the same time, there was too much!
Shh, shh, just relax…
His hand clasped over my nose and mouth and he held the back of my head, helping me take a breath in. The first time he touched me that night we met—he saved me from drowning.
Tick, tick, tick.
8:35 p.m.!
"Fuck you, motherfucker! Who the fuck do you think you are?!" The same obnoxious voice boomed behind me, the table buzzing with an impending fight, but I didn’t care. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, impatiently counting down four minutes.
8:35 p.m. The longest minute in the history of time slithered by, laughing and pointing at my impatience and body shakes.
Tick, tick, tick.
A bottle crashed somewhere behind me, and a woman squealed, but even if a bulldozer busted through the restaurant wall, I wouldn't have looked back.
8:36 p.m.
As if I was an Olympic sprinter, I pushed off the floor and ran toward the restrooms, like my life depended on it. I turned into Usain Bolt, and I trained for this moment my entire life—to find the love of my life again.
And then all minutes disappeared. All time and space meant nothing anymore. He touched my hand, the same hand that knew every inch of my body. The same hand that saved me from drowning that first night—touched me.
It was real—he was real. Alex wasn't dead. Alex was alive and he was in front of me.
"Malyshka…" That voice—it was real. The way he looked at me was real.
My heart burst open and all my bitter tears spilled out onto his chest. His body was against mine, and I held onto him as if we were falling together off a cliff.
He was so hurt. He was so thin, his ribs digging into my arms.
He was so fragile.
His eyes reflected so much pain that my entire three months of torture felt like a summer vacation when I recognized how broken he felt.
The guilt flooded me again. Why didn’t I come back for him?! Why didn’t I escape and run back to that filthy motel room and find my love? His lifeless body was always in front of my eyes, bleeding onto the dirty carpet, jerking with every kick of those boots.
But he was here now, alive.
Mine.
And suddenly I was in heaven—safe in his arms. He stole me once more.
I marveled at his smile. Touched the dark beard on his face. Cried at the sight of the scars on his neck.
“I missed you so much, baby,” I whispered against Alex’s lips, his strong arms supporting me unequivocally. He stepped out into the warm night, taking me far, far awa—
“Alright! The boy gets the girl!"
Someone interrupted us so cruelly that I jumped in Alex’s arms. Instead of dropping me, he tightened his grip and pressed me into his chest.
I whipped my head back to see a tall man leaning on the trunk of a black car. His height and the tattoos decorating the fair skin on his neck were the first things I noticed. Jet black hair, blue eyes, and a lit cigarette between those plump lips stretched out in a smirk.
Fear bit into me at the sight of this unknown and unwanted man assessing us, but Alex chuckled when he set me down, never letting me go. He snaked his arms around my waist and held me glued to him, relaxed and easy. "Jade, this is my friend Roman. Roman, this is Jade."
The man outstretched his hand with a warm smile. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jade. Now, what are we doing with that motherfucking cunt?"
Confused, I looked around us, seeing no one except the man I now knew as Roman, who raised his eyebrows and tapped on the hood of the trunk with his tattooed fingers.
It hit me like a bolt of lightning; Xavier was in there. What a phenomenal night!
The best night of my life.
"He's…he’s in there?" I double-checked, my voice shaking with excitement.
"Mhm," Alex confirmed. “It’s time, baby. Can I have permission to kill him now?" Alex's hands moved slowly, dipping with the curve of my waist and then settling on my lower back, pulling me into him. Into his gaze, into his life, into his all-encompassing love.
"Fuck, yes!" I exclaimed, stopping myself from jumping up and down in happiness.
I’d changed. Not that long ago, I believed no one deserved for their life to be taken, but now? Now I was sure that some people deserved it. All of it.
"What do you want me to carve on his chest?" Alex asked, his eyes sparkling with that dangerous and contagious energy I got hooked on.
"Think about it on the way; let's go." Roman woke us up from the moment, swinging the back seat door open.
“The backseat for the lovebirds! But please keep it PG,” he said playfully, rolling his eyes before heading for the driver's seat.
"Damn, can we get a burger or something?
I'm starving." Roman’s voice was so casual once he put his hand on the steering wheel, like this was just a regular evening, not the best night of my life.
The car sped off into the darkness, but I couldn’t see anything except Alex. My only focus was on the man who had me on his lap, his hands on my back and thighs, his lips placing delicate smooches on my wet cheeks.
"I missed you so much, Jade." Our bubble of reunification in the dark backseat of a moving car couldn't be interrupted by God himself.
"I'm so sorry I broke my promise, baby. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you for so long.
" His voice. It was pouring into me, slowly filling up that dark void. "Did he…hurt you?"
Something banged in the back. In the trunk.
Neither Roman nor Alex paid it any attention, and I took my cue, zoning out the motherfucking cunt, too.
"No." I shook my head, staring into Alex’s worried eyes.
"He didn't hurt me, but…I still see you dying...
every time I close my eyes. Is this real?
Are you...really here?" My fingers rested on the nape of his neck, just like the last night we spent together.
"Ow!" I laughed when Alex delivered a painful pinch on my butt cheek.
"Real, right?" he asked, almost as unsure as me. His nose tapped mine and he breathed me in, encouraging me to take a deep breath in too.
This was surreal. I was sure this was a dream, just a figment of my tortured conscience, but while I had him in my dream, I had to tell him.
“I’m sorry we didn’t leave. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you,” I confessed with my eyes closed, the darkness hiding my blush. “We should’ve left. Just left!”
“Hey…no.” His forehead pressed against mine, his whisper just for me. “We both stayed, baby. Don’t ever think that again.”
I nodded pathetically, hiding my sniffles in his neck. But he smelled real.
"Three burgers with fries, a Coke—" Roman piped up from the driver’s seat, and I realized he was at a drive-through. "You want a milkshake or something?" He turned to me, asking so kindly. Who the hell was this man, ordering fries and milkshakes on the way to a killing?
“Yeah,” I rasped. “Banana or chocolate.”
A few minutes later, I was perched on top of the trunk, lightly swaying with every one of Xavier’s kicks from inside, and sipping on my banana milkshake.
Roman and Alex discussed something in Russian, chuckling every once in a while, standing on either side of me. Alex’s arm was wrapped around my waist, never letting go.
“You have to eat something, hm?” Gently, Alex encouraged me to take a bite of his burger. “I’ll make you lunch tomorrow. Your favorite sandwich with olives and all. Just like before.” He smiled. A real smile, not one from my memory. I nodded, letting my tears overpower me once again.
Wave after wave, I’d let the relief and happiness consume me, making sure to always be holding onto his hand. As long as I had that tactile sensation, I could convince myself it was real.
But I pushed all my waterworks away when Roman killed the engine of the car once he parked in front of a car repair shop.
It was dark. It was quiet except for Xavier's yells and kicks from the trunk.
It was time.
"What the fuck?!" Xavier shouted as soon as the trunk swung open, his voice cutting through the silent night. His limbs flew in all directions, but before I could even take in the sight, Roman swung his massive, tattooed fist right into Xavier’s face, rendering him immediately limp.
"You know what?” Roman twisted toward Alex with an apologetic gaze. “This is your night, brother. I'm sorry." He said it so lightly, like he was apologizing for butting in line.
"I appreciate it," Alex chuckled, but then motioned for Roman to continue. Roman bent down and hauled Xavier onto his shoulder, gingerly heading inside the pitch-black building.
Regret crept in at the view of Xavier hanging upside down. Both Roman and Alex seemed so calm, but my knees trembled.
“You ready?” Alex asked, the sound of his voice pulling me into a situation that would forever change me.
But the truth was…I’d already lived through a metamorphosis. I turned to Alex, catching the spark in his eyes.
“Yes. I’m ready.”