Chapter 15 Unexpected
Unexpected
Dina
Sergei was a foreign exchange student staying in the country on a temporary visa, and he left two days after we slept together for the first time. It was a goodbye fuck. My first. His one of many. We didn’t use protection, and we conceived a baby.
I remember sitting on an orange bench in front of the abortion clinic. I remember how I shook and threw up from the cocktail made of fear and first-trimester hormones wrecking my body.
I cried (because that’s what I do) until an older woman sat next to me.
I swear to this day, she appeared out of nowhere, and when I looked over, she was lowering herself onto the bench.
I recall her wrinkled hands when she folded them in front of her.
Judging by her hands, she must’ve been a hundred years old.
She’d lived a long life. She must’ve seen many things, many places, many people. At that moment, as I thought of all the things she must have done with those hands, she reached over and squeezed my right hand.
I walked away from the clinic, straight to my dad’s school.
I waited for him in his office, wondering if he’d make me go back to the clinic. When he finished with classes, we talked about my options and what I should do. He didn’t drive me back to the clinic but offered to take me there if I wanted to go in the next few days or so.
Sergei returned two years after Chi-chi was born. We got married a few years later, and the rest is, as they say, history. All this to say that I have experience with men leaving when I could’ve used their help. This one is no different.
I grab his injured ankle and dig my fingernails into it.
He curses and flinches. “Fuck. That hurts.”
“You deserve it!” I scream. “You deserve much worse. You could’ve told me that bag didn’t hold a hockey stick or a trombone.
Didn’t have to tell me what it was exactly, because yes, I would’ve made you throw it over the bridge, but you could’ve suggested that you were carrying the sniper rifle that…
that… Did you take out Massio Crossbow? The Massio Crossbow, who, by the way, has a successor who will come after you, and me, and this guy.
” I point at the man next to me. “Your brother.” I squeeze his ankle again, mainly because it’s not swollen anymore. It’s mostly healed.
Good for him. Jerk.
“It’s best if you do not say such things.”
“Which things?”
“About Massio’s passing.”
“He didn’t pass. You sh—”
Faster than I can blink, the man grabs the back of my neck and crushes his lips over mine.
I open my mouth, mainly because I’m shocked, but he takes advantage of it and pushes his tongue inside.
His masculine sandalwood scent drifts into my nose, and when he moans softly as if he’s enjoying kissing me, I let him.
He projects authority, and he’s attentive, the way a man ought to be, leading the kiss so that I can relax and give in to the moment.
His kiss makes me even angrier at him. Because now I’m also mad at myself for enjoying it. How could I not? He’s a good kisser. I haven’t been kissed in a long time. I forgot what it felt like to be kissed, or desired, for that matter.
“Don’t be mad at me,” he says. “I did my best. I really did. And I came for you as soon as I heard. I’m sorry, Dina. I am sorry.”
I have never kissed a man who wasn’t my husband. Until now. Nobody needs to know that. This kiss, this simple touch of lips, that should be completely irrelevant in the grand scheme of my fucked-up life, liberated me from Sergei in a way this man could never understand.
I can barely catch my breath.
But I can’t be a grateful little bitch and get down on my knees now, can I? No. I’m staying mad at him.
This man ruined my life.
I’m not sure how to rebuild after this ruin. That’s a dreadful, scary thought since I’ve fixed a lot of wrong moves in my life. Some have turned out to be my biggest blessings (my daughter), while other decisions (to marry Sergei) felt like blessings at the time, but didn’t work out at all.
I cross my arms over my chest while my lips tingle from his kiss.
“Who hurt you?”
I sniff, and he hands me a tissue. “It was the detective. The woman.” I wipe my nose. “She tried to get me to admit to murdering Massio.”
“But you didn’t, did you?”
“No, but I almost did. Had you not intervened when you did, I would have tried to negotiate a plea deal.”
The man sighs. “I’m glad you didn’t make a deal.”
“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one chained to the desk of a raging, corrupt cop.”
A bottle of water appears in front of me. I glance at the man’s brother and accept it with a thank-you.
“I’m feeling very awkward right now, holding the candle for you guys. Could you not kiss anymore?” He hands me some pills. “For the pain.”
I recognize the brand of medicine and take them with some water. “We didn’t kiss.”
The man lifts an eyebrow. “What would you call it?”
“You kissed me.”
A smirk. “You kissed me back.”
“You stole a kiss. If you asked permission, you wouldn’t have gotten it.”
“Thief,” his brother says.
“Guilty as charged.” The man clears his throat. “What happened after you dropped me off under the bridge?”
“Oh man, everything. I called the number you gave me, and when I got back to the car, I realized I still had your bag in the back seat. I went back to drop it off like you said, but you were already gone. I looked for you. Thought you might’ve drowned.
For a man who couldn’t walk, you sure disappeared fast. Anyway, since I couldn’t find you, I drove home.
A cop on a bike pulled up next to me at the stoplight, glanced into the back of my car, and pulled me over. I think he knew it was a rifle.”
“He couldn’t have known. The drag bag is designed to appear as if I’m carrying a musical instrument.”
“I thought it was a hockey stick.”
“Why did he pull you over?”
“I told you. It was the bag in the seat.”
“Did you take 4th Street home like I said you should?”
I pause. Did I? “No, no.” I shake my head. “I took Highland Boulevard.”
The man pinches his lips. “Dina, I gave you instructions. They were very specific, and they included your exit plan after the drop-off. In the event of a citywide emergency, the police patrol Highland Boulevard and look for anything suspicious. 4th Street is not patrolled.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
I take a deep breath. “How can you know what streets are patrolled and which aren’t?”
“I just do, okay?”
“Who are you?”
The man glances at his brother. “Declan. This is my brother, Connor.”
“I go by Con. Like convict.”
Declan shakes his head. “Ignore him.”
“Well, Declan, I have trouble following directions, and I’m messy, and my life is crap, but you don’t have to kiss me or be nice to me.
I didn’t turn you in. I gave them a description of a man, but with blue eyes.
Your heterochromia would’ve made it easy for them to find you.
But before you say anything about how grateful you are, I didn’t do it for you.
I did it so that I could stay alive when you found me.
Because I knew you would. I knew you would show up one day and end my life if I turned you in. You can thank me now.”
The man scrubs his jaw and shakes his head.
Next to me, Connor chuckles and touches his eyeball to peel off a contact. Now his eyes are blue. It takes me a moment to understand. “Shit.”
Connor smiles. “The cops are after me?”
I swallow. “I’m sorry. I had no idea there were two of you and that your face is chubbier than his and your nose is slightly wider, which is kind of the description I gave them.” They’re nearly identical, but Connor appears bulkier. Maybe he eats more than Declan.
“Aw, baby,” Connor says. “I’m not mad. I’m Selnoa’s most wanted. I want that on a T-shirt. Selnoa’s Most Wanted. Across my chest. And did they sketch me with my hair slicked back or parted down the middle?”
“Parted to the side. Left side.” He gives off strange vibes.
“I’ll have to find a way to get the sketch. Nice work, baby.”
“Dina,” Declan says in a way that makes me want to salute him.
I pull back my shoulders. “Yes?”
“When the officer stopped you, did he make you open the bag or did he open it?”
“He made me open it, and it all happened too fast. Once we both saw what was inside, he took out his weapon and shouted for me to get on the ground. I went down crying and panicked.”
“It’s okay, Dina. They won’t pin Massio’s murder on you.”
“Or you,” Connor says. “Because I did it.”
“Con, please be helpful and find a way to get the rifle instead of going down as a martyr.”
“On your own time,” I say. “Do that on your time when I’m not around. Please. Whatever scheme you two work out, I won’t be a part of it. I want to go back to my apartment, have a bottle of wine, and a soak in the tub, and I want to sleep for five days.”
Declan looks away.
“I can’t go back to my apartment, can I?”
Declan nods. “You can. For a few minutes. Grab your essentials, show your face.”
“What do you mean, show my face?”
He points outside. “We’re almost here.” He pulls out a gun and hands it to me. “I know you know how to use it.”
“She does?” Connor asks, sounding excited.
I hand the gun back to him. “I’m a fugitive. If they see me with a gun, they’ll shoot.”
“Nobody is going to hurt you. And if they do, I’ll burn this fucking city to the ground.”
“I really hope someone takes a shot at her,” Connor says. When Declan and I both stare at him, he explains. “So I can burn the city. Duh.”
“Duh,” I repeat.
Before we get out, Connor puts the brown contact back into his eye.
The street is empty, which is strange. This is usually a busy street. When I look left and right before we cross, I see why no cars are passing by. Men in tactical gear lean against SUVs they parked in the middle of each end of the street, blocking access.
In Selnoa, people know better than to tell the men to move. Everyone stays in their cars and waits for the men to leave. Crossbow trained us well.
One time, years ago, Massio blocked off the town square on the eve of the New Year, right before midnight, when traditionally, Selnoans would gather there. Nobody was allowed in the square because he wanted to sit on the bench in front of the big Christmas tree and reflect.
“Why are Massio’s men here?” I ask, terrified of the answer.
“Those are my uncle’s men,” Connor answers.
Who is his uncle? Oh God. I think my legs might give out from fear. “Massio Crossbow is your uncle?”
“No.” Connor shakes his head.
“Hi, Dina,” one of my neighbors shouts from the terrace.
I look up to see who it is. “Hey, Martha.” I wave. “How is your cat doing?” Her cat recently fell off the roof. Poor guy.
“He’s fine. He misses you.”
“Pet him for me, would you?”
Martha nods. “And how are you, young man?”
Connor waves. “Superb.”
Connor and I enter my building and hurry to reach my apartment. Yellow crime tape blocks my door. I stand in front of it, not knowing what to do. Connor rips off the tape, balls it up, and stuffs the wad into his pocket.
I stare at him.
“What?” he asks. “No spare key under the mat?”
“We can’t go in.”
His eyebrows draw down. “Why not?”
“Because of the yellow police tape.”
“I don’t see any tape.”
From across the hallway, my neighbor opens his door. He wears a brown checkered robe and a disapproving frown. “What have you done now? Police have been coming in and out of here for days. I couldn’t get any sleep from the noise.”
“Oh, you want to sleep?” Con pulls out a gun.
At the last second, I push Connor’s arm down, and the bullet goes through the wall. The noise of the shot is muffled by the suppressor. My neighbor scrambles inside and slams the door closed.
“What the hell was that?” I shout at Connor.
“He wanted peace and quiet.”
I tilt my head. “Are you crazy?”
“Mmhm.”
I gulp. “Really? As in for real?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know what is real for you or if my reality is considered real, but any asshole who comes at me with a piss-poor attitude will get the version of me they were looking for. People need to rethink their attitude. Dogs bark. Lions kill.”
“You could’ve told him to mind his business.”
“Words don’t mean shit anymore.” Connor breaks the door lock and enters my apartment.
He goes straight into my bedroom as if he owns the place.
There, he finds my suitcase in the closet and throws it onto the bed.
A single swipe of his long arm and all my clothes, along with the hangers, get scooped up.
He throws them into the suitcase, then adds a few pairs of shoes.
“You want to grab your panties or should I?”
“Where are you taking me?”
Connor rolls his eyes. “I’m not taking you anywhere. Declan is taking you wherever he wants you to be.”
“And where is that?”
“I just told you. Wherever he wants you to be.”
I cross my arms. “I’ve got family that I need to notify. I can’t just up and disappear.”
“You’re not disappearing.”
“Please tell me what you’re planning to do with me.” My chin quivers.
Connor zips the suitcase closed. “No panties. Declan will appreciate the sentiment. Let’s go.” He rolls out the suitcase.
I rush after him but stop at the door, and when he turns because I’m not following him out, I wave. “Bye, Connor. It was nice meeting you, but I’m staying.”
Maybe they were planning to take me into a field and execute me.
I don’t know why they’d bother rescuing me from the police station and coming here to pack if that’s the case, but stranger things have happened.
Besides, if Connor is the brains of the operation, then I have no way of predicting him. He is unhinged.
Connor stills, a small smile playing on his lips. “Baby, are you sure you want to play with me?”