Page 65 of Roma King
PASHA
DEBT
Ihurry to get dressed, but Zara moves slowly, taking her time putting on her bra, and then her jeans and her shirt. She leaves her ruined panties on the floor, where I discarded them earlier.“Don’t worry. It won’t stop ringing before we get to it,” she says. Her voice is thick with anger, and I can see the unrest in her eyes. When she told me about the payphone and the missing little boy earlier, I didn’t think much of it. But now I can see the worry on her. It’s palpable, and I don’t fucking like it.
Outside on the street, Zara goes ahead of me, hand reaching to pick up the phone, but I put my hand on her arm, shaking my head. “Let me.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I catch the flicker of relief in her eyes. The phone must have been ringing for six or seven solid minutes by now; I pick up the handset, holding it up to my ear, and I take a deep breath, then answer with one word. “Speak.”
I’m met with silence.
I don’t speak, either. If this guy wants to play games, then he’s shit out of luck; I’m not going to oblige the motherfucker.
Zara holds herself, arm wrapped around her stomach, her thumbnail between her teeth as she watches my face, her eyebrows drawn together in a singular line.
I hear breathing—heavy, dirty, unsettling breathing sounds, that make me clench my jaw. Still, I say nothing. If this guy wants to play ball, he’s gonna have to come play on my court. And be prepared for me to kick the shit out of him. Seconds pass, and then a minute. My nerves are cast iron. I won’t budge.
One more minute.
Another.
Zara shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Ask him if he still has Corey,” she whispers. I shake my head. This is a power play. If I say a single damn word, then that’s one point to him.
I’m expecting the silence to stretch out even further, but then he speaks.“Put her on the line.”
A raging inferno erupts in my chest. “If you want to speak to someone, it’s gonna have to be me. You get a kick out of scaring women?”
“I don’t care about her,” the voice says. The sound of the words is warped and crackling, too low to be real. Whoever is on the other end of the line, they’re using a voice distorter. “And no. I do not care about scaring women. Put her on the phone.”
I set my jaw.
And then I hang up the phone.
“Fuck, Pasha! What are you doing?” Zara rushes to my side, grabbing hold of the phone. She lifts the handset, her face crumpling when she’s inevitably met with nothing but the dial tone. I take the handset from her and put it back in its cradle.
“He’s going to call back.”
Zara’s hair is still mussed from our adventures on her living room sofa; her eyes aren’t clouded and hazy anymore, though. They’re filled with anxiety. “You don’t know that. Youcan’tknow that.” She tries to step around me, to get at the phone again, but I take her by the shoulders.
“He’s going to call back,” I repeat.
“If they called here again, then something must have gone wrong. The Petrov’s must have fucked up their deal to get Corey back. I should have answered it. Oh, god.” She bends at the waist, resting her hands against her knees as she sucks in an endless breath. “This is bad. This is really bad. I can feel it. Pasha, what the fuck are we going to do?”
“We’re going to stand here, and we’re going to wait for him to call back.”
“How can you be so sure?” No sooner has she said the words than the phone starts to ring again. She stands straight, covering her mouth with her hands. “I should get it,” she says, but again I pick up the handset before she has a chance.
“We can walk away,” I growl. “We can hang up and go back inside. Or you can say whatever it is you want to say.”
“I wasn’t supposed to talk toyouuntil next time,” the voice says. “But…if you want to escalate matters, then I suppose I can give you what you want.”
“What do you think you’re going to get out of this?” I demand. “You’re terrifying a little boy. To what end?”
“The boy is dead.”
I pause. Fuck. I can’t react. If I react, Zara’s going to lose her shit. She’ll grab the phone, start screaming, and there won’t be a way to figure out if he’s lying. “Explain.”
“There will be another, and another after that. I won’t stop until the debt has been paid.”
