Page 73 of Refrain

“You’ve been watching me.” My voice breaks as the truth spells itself out before I even see him nod.

Every move I’ve made. Every pathetic attempt to convince myself that I had the nerve to really do it—kill him. He’s been watching. He’s been waiting.

He’s been amused.

“I could keep my distance,” he admits. “But I couldn’t go another moment without seeing you dance again.”

His words are the equivalent of someone revealing that my entire life has been played out on stage. All of those private, secretive moments that I thought were my own merely served as someone else’s entertainment.

“You were there…”

“I have my ways, Ksei.”

I swallow hard. For some reason, it’s easier to thumb the trigger with it pointed at my soul. Maybe the blow of a bullet could scrub him from it. Drive him out.

“Why?”

“It’s already too late, Ksei.” His eyes drift over my throat and then up to observe my face like it’s one of the many pieces of property he owns. “You already came back to me.”

“Get away!”

He takes a step, and I train the gun on him again, holding it unsteadily while I inch toward the doorway.

He lets me go, his eyes darker than midnight, his jaw clenched. “When you need me, I’ll be here. Youwillcome back. In the meantime, remember me. All of it. We have much to discuss when I see you again.”

I turn on my heel and run. The suite becomes a maze. I wander it for what feels like an eternity before I finally stagger out into the main lobby of the hotel. Once I hit the street, I pick a direction and keep going. My bare feet slam against the pavement, driving me forward. I never stop to put the gun away. It’s my only protection from the memories. It’s my only shield from the eyes watching me with every step I take.

Moya lyubov. Moya lyubov.

I hear him. I smell him. I taste him.

I’m dying again. I’m drowning. He’s bashed my brains in, and there is no one here to scoop them back up and tuck them neatly into my skull. Just silence. Just my own pulsing heartbeat.

Just him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

ESPI

“Bang.”Two ice-cold fingers graze the back of my neck. “You’re dead.”

Giggling, Domi steps around me. Her eyes glow neon blue in the dim light of the bar. Her teeth arebared,a partial smile, partial snarl. She’s feral tonight. The way she used to look when Vlad made her turn so many tricks that she could barely walk before he threw her out onto the street.

Something has her worried, but I’m too tired to ask. No. Fuck that. I’m too drunk. I snatch a shot from the counter and down it without so much as a sniff test to tell what it is. The shit burns goingdown,but it doesn’t come back up. Yet. Two more shots don’t chase my sanity away though. It’s still here, lurking like poison, as Domi returns to her post behind the counter and starts wiping it down with a wet rag.

In all the chaos of the week, I’ve barely checked on her. Really checked. Francisco’s taken good care of her, protecting her from the shitheads at the bar; I can tell that much. Whatever’s gotten her antsy lives inside her head. She never stops fiddling with her hair. Tugging at it. Pulling. It’s like she’s trying to yank somethingout, but damn. Don’t I know better than anyone? Dark thoughts can only be buried beneath liquor and nicotine.

Or confessed to someone so tormented by their own shit that they just might hear you.

Another shot chases the thought. Not far enough away though.

With a sigh, I settle my focus on Domi. “What’s up?”

She stands beneatha puddle of bluish light, and I’ve never realized just how young she is before. I know her age, but she’syoung. A tiny little girl with no clue of what to do.

“It’s nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “Someone just asked me something. That’s all.”

In an instant, I’m sitting straighter as anger washes through my stomach, neutralizing the alcohol. “Arno?”

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