Page 14 of Volatile

“Hey, I didn’t mean shit by it. I know parents can be dicks, but you still try to impress them.”

She softens knowing I’m speaking from my own experience. As much as I hated Len and Anika, there was this deep need in me to get their acknowledgement. Logically, I know if I did, I’d have to be the biggest cunt to walk the face of the earth, and it still wouldn’t have been enough but it’s there in the back of my head – some niggling doubt that there could have been something.

We both fall silent, and I hug her tighter as my theories begin forming. There’s one that I will never be able to test or see if I was right now that my biological parents are dead, their deaths couldn’t have happened to better people. But I still have the same thoughts I did as a child. What did I do to make them the way they are?

If I was stronger, would they hate me less?

If I stopped crying, would they stop hitting me?

All I have now are questions and theories to make sense of their violence and insane actions. Only crazy can understand crazy and I’d prefer not to become like the rest of my family who all have issues.

Stasi threads her fingers through mine, squeezing once, and turns her head to look at me. Before her eyes can meet mine, they widen at something over my shoulder and she bolts upright, grabbing a T-shirt. She curses under her breath, rushing out of the room, and I slowly turn, expecting to see some intruder or spirit. The only thing on her bedside table is an alarm clock.

There’s nothing I can use to cover myself and I swing my legs over the bed, following her naked as the day I was born. If she was throwing up, I’d have to evaluate my personality and looks, but a glow comes from her guest room, and I walk into a nerd’s wet dream. There are three monitors attached to the wall with gibberish running across each of them and she sits on the floor with her legs crossed and laptop in front of her.The rest of the room is blank, sterile, and colder than her home.

My voice comes out halfway between joking and serious as I take it all in and ask, “You hacking the government, sweetness?”

There’s no reaction and her fingers fly across the keyboard.

Okay then, looks like I’m an accessory to whatever crime she’s committing. If she’s about to get raided, I don’t want to be caught with my dick out and go on the hunt for my boxers before going back to her criminal cave. Everyone knows the government is one organized crime ring you don’t touch because you’ll never win, and my girl seems hell bent on doing it.

My steps slow as I watch her focused on the screen. She’s so fucking beautiful and intelligent. I hope she is committing a crime because then I have a solid justification for making her my wife. Even Stasi would be unable to argue with it if we need the protection of not being able to testify against each other. Fuck it, I might just do it anyway, kill someone in front of her or rob a bank so she can’t escape me.

Taking the floor beside her, I look over her shoulder and I’d prefer it to be the fucking White House when I see the pictures she’s found on some fucker’s phone. Rows of my fucking family stare back at me, but they aren’t the worst images. My stomach churns when I scan the next line that’s full of children stripped down to their underwear as Stasi does some computer shit to find the geotag of where they were taken.

FOUR

Anastasia

Ignoring the images, I focus on data. Every time I see their little faces attached to bodies that should not in any circumstances be doing the things they are, my insides revolt. The loading page has a picture of a clothed Vanya and Dima, which is easier to handle. They have their masks on and after her rampage it will be a security measure to stop her going on another killing spree. Anger is rational, it’s just. The sick fucks’ actions aren’t.

A deep voice comes from beside me, making me jump and my hand flies to my chest.

“What the fuck is this shit?”

Vitali’s outrage is solely directed at the rows of children’s images and the light reflects off his watery eyes as they slowly move from the screen to me. The rules Dima and Vlad gave me when I started helping them years ago are forgotten at the sight of him, and I try to give him insight without going into detail, or incurring Vlad’s wrath.

“How much do you know about Vanya’s life?”

A lump forms in his throat at the mention of his niece and he manages to choke out one word. “Enough.”

I’m not betraying her confidence when she doesn’t give a shit who knows about her life, and I turn towards him, attempting to be comforting as I lay my hand on his thigh and explain, “It’s like a network: each handler has their own clients and ‘products’. Right now, they’re all fucked because she made a dent by killing them.”

He stares at me, blank and motionless.

“Do you remember TRR? How she was looking for Nina?”

I get a small nod but at least he’s moving, his eyes slowly flick from my face to the screen, and I cup his cheek to get his focus to remain on me as I say, “If I find more information, I’ll be able to get more of the kids out, they won’t have to go to auctions or see anything Vanya did.”

I sound cold, but I have to separate my emotions from the task, or I’ll go crazy.If I don’t, I’ll end up becoming like Vlad who has to torture people to get the images to stop, or Dima who keeps a tally of the children we’ve got away from the sick fucks as a reminder that we’ve achieved something. Unlike them, I can only focus on who’s left since it’s my job to find them.

Vitali looks at me as though I’ve grown three extra heads, and his eyes slowly track around the room. He pauses, seeing the phone connected to my laptop and his voice hardens with accusation as he asks, “How did you get that?”

I go back to the geotags without answering him. If they were dumb, I can get every location and this shit will be over. It’s naive to think it, there are hundreds of images and I know the videos show the children getting younger each year, but I can’t do nothing.

Tali holds my shoulder accompanied with a hard reprimanding tone. “Anastasia, where the fuck did you get it?”

He leans over me and grabs the phone, careful not to disconnect as he inspects it for any proof of the owner. I’m not telling him the truth when I already have to deal with Vlad and Dima’s disapproval over my methods. They don’t realize that child fuckers are clearly not interested in me at my adult age and looks. Being a socialite gets me in the parties. Being a drunk and high socialite gets me in their bedrooms.

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