Page 65 of One of Them

“Listen to me Maxim, you have your family’s safety to consider,” I reminded him. “You’re going to let me go. Do you understand?”

He had to. This wasn’t what either of them signed up for.

No answer. Static sounds filled the gaps.

I continued, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Malek will have your head if he learns you helped me. And you know exactly what they do to rats.”

Because you assisted many times, I thought.

“I’m not afraid of Malek,” Maxim growled back. Control was slipping from him, I could tell.

“This ain’t right,” he protested. “What do you want me to do? Sit pretty and watch them plan your execution?”

My heart sank at the words, but I couldn’t afford to admit the meanings behind them.

“It won’t come to that,” I tried to assure him. “Just trust me. I’ll be fine. I’ve been on my own for a while.”

When he remained silent, I reinforced the previous statement with more assurances. “This is what I do. It’s all I’ve known until all you people came along.”

“What if I don’t want you to be alone anymore?”

My steps halted, and I stood still, overwhelmed by the conversation. Or how much I hated having to do this over the phone.

Still, satisfaction awoke within me. At how right I was to think this could be more. So much more than a dream. The thoughts left me bittersweet, given the timing.

I stayed on the high road, hitting the imaginary switch that shut off all the emotions.

“Maxim. This kind of talk gets you and your family killed,” I scolded him.

I knew he expected a different reaction, but I couldn’t give him hope when I, myself, haven’t had any.

“Just stick to Alisa. And please let her know I’m very sorry for ruining her wedding day.” I couldn’t think about her, or what this meant for our friendship.

“Whatever happens, she’ll always be safe from me,” I relayed the message.

“It’s between Ilya, Malek, and I. And it’ll end that way. I will right this wrong. Alone.”

With the parting words, I made one more call before I disposed of the phone by throwing the device to the nearest trash can.

It wasn’t smart, but I had no other choice. If I used a phone booth? He wouldn’t pick up an unknown number.

“Pick up, pick up. Please,” I whispered under my breath, listening to the repeated rings.

“Pronto?” Enzo’s raspy voice greeted me.

“Are you still in the city?” I blurted out, thankful to get a hold of him.

That got his attention. “Maybe. What is it?”

“I need an extraction.”

“Who?”

I closed my eyes and said, “Myself.”

“Cazzo,” he swore. A brief pause followed. Just when I thought he hung up, he threw me a lifeline. “You got thirty minutes.”

I wasn’t surprised Enzo was eager to help. He never gave me the tiniest reason to doubt this friendship. But asking for his help? That was another thing entirely.

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