46. Ana

FORTY-SIX

Ana

J ones' hands shake as though I'm going to hurt him as I sit in the footwell of his car. It's funny when he works for Amon and he's never scared of him, but he holds the steering wheel tightly and I can see his bones poking through the thin skin of his knuckles. I can't speak with Yulia and her favorite guard in the back and look up from the footwell, trying to put him at ease, so he doesn't fuck things up. Lifting my thumb in the air, I smile around my murderous thoughts and turn it down, asking a question. It works and he audibly swallows before discreetly lifting his thumb, saying he's fine.

Yulia's excitement comes through the not-so-private glass.

"He's richer than Rowan, we'll be able to expand."

Sick fucking cunt. Expansion is about business not selling people. My skin crawls, the ants coming back as Anton says, "It's best to be careful with whoever is disrupting the transport, they were close to killing Rowan last week."

My smile is genuine because they're talking about me.

Dickheads. They're dumb as fuck, letting greed blind them into coming out of hiding. My good mood dies, and she confuses me even more as she says, "We let her go, they won't find out."

Who the fuck has Yulia ever let go? She keeps them as toys, someone should have bought her a fucking doll so she could collect them instead of children.

Anton was always the worst guard; he'd beat the shit out of me for fighting back and make them hold me down while he did whatever he deemed necessary. But he's scared now, it's there hiding in his voice as he gulps.

"She ended up with her father, and this is too close to them."

Oh, they're still talking about me. They knew Vlad was my dad, Marlo was my grandfather, and he still did everything he did. Why did he hate his own children? It's fucked up and weird. He never fucked any of the kids, it was always Yulia and he'd act as though it was disgusting when organizing the acts for other people.

Hearing them discuss criminal politics gets boring and I hum in my head. None of the Vartanovs are allowed in New York without causing a war. Blah fucking blah. I wonder if they would save me, risk a war if I needed help. Is that what dads do? I have one and don't know.He'd probably be annoying and start telling me I've killed them wrong. I wonder if Val and Tali would, they're good uncles to Viktor and Verena.

Jones stops me questioning the role of parents as he comes to a stop outside an abandoned building. He doesn't show any hint of knowing their conversation as he maintains his usual professional politeness and lowers the privacy screen.

"My boss will meet you inside once he has confirmed you've come alone."

Amon's twisted as fuck and loves the ego trip this is probably giving him that they'll wait until he feels like he's ready.It's why he doesn't tell anyone his real name, the weirdo.

I'm stopped from standing as Jones puts his hand on the seat in front of me. His fear isn't about me, he doesn't like Yulia and Anton. He's been nice to me the few times we've met each other, and he pulls his jacket over my head as they get out. Anton's voice is closer than anticipated and he makes bullshit small talk while searching the cab of the car as Jones rolls his window down.

Once he fucks off to follow after his bitch, Jones doesn't move the jacket off my head and his voice is low, filled with fear.

"I'd prefer you stayed in the car, Miss. Ana, I don't like this."

He always says a title before someone's name, it's funny and makes me feel like I'm important. But this is more important than his comfort and I don't pay attention to his warnings as I wait for him to drive ahead then get out on the other side of the lot.

My bag is heavy with the weapons and rope in it. A good weight, telling me it's going to be over. It's like an adventure and I keep humming in my head as I step through the overgrowth. Val should be with Dima by now, he'll give him the IV and he won't hurt when he wakes up. There's a pain in my chest at the thought of him being upset with me, but this way he'll be safe, then I'll apologize and promise not to do it again.

There's no sound of people talking when I reach the back of the abandoned building. Keeping my steps silent, I look through the first floor, and the dirty windows show that the idiots are still outside. Yulia and Anton are stood smoking as though doing it inside an abandoned house is poor etiquette. Going to the top floor, I set up everything I'll need and sit in the middle of the space, waiting for them to come inside. I like the building; all of the windows are intricate even with some of the glass cracked and broken. The moon is huge and the overgrown trees sway in the light breeze like they're dancing along to my song.

My life was a game, now their death will be.

Oh, I should make a points system.

Impatience and something else pulls at me, unease I think it is. They keep fucking things up and making me wait longer than I should, they spent all that time on their flight but decided to fuck as soon as they landed. Inconsiderate bastards, I'm waiting to torture them, and they have no sense of punctuality.

Going to the window that's covered in vines, I look out at the spot that they were smoking in. There's no glowing cherry or smoke. Fuck, I wasted my opportunity by making it a game. There's more rustling as the overgrowth shakes. It's too vigorous for it to be due to the wind and Anton steps through it, dragging an unconscious body that should be at fucking home.

Fuck the game, I'm killing them all.

Dima doesn't fight, his head is limp, matching his arms as Anton struggles to carry his weight into the building.

I move through the floor to the large stone staircase as the sound of struggle echoes off the derelict walls. Keeping a knife in one hand and a gun in the other, I stick to the wall, fighting the urge to run. Dima was at home; I'm making things up again. Like B and the nice dad. They can't hurt him, no one can. It's Dima. He's nice and I promised I wouldn't let him get hurt. I won't be able to breathe if they do. It will be worse than anything else.

I don't see anyone as I make my way towards the noise of bone crunching and a fist meeting flesh. I nearly fall and speed up, allowing the struggle to cover the sound of my steps, but as soon as I see them, see him, I smile.

Dima grabs the back of Anton's head and pulls it down as he drives his knee up into the ugly fucker's nose. He's okay, breathing, not melted. I stand in the middle of the staircase, hidden by the shadows and watch as a bloody Anton drops to the floor. He's still fighting as Dima drives his fist into his face, but I smile because I knew no one would hurt him.

My happiness dies as Yulia steps forward out of the shadowed hallway. She's not watching them, her eyes are fixed on me. My entire life has been spent with this bitch as the voice in my head and I feel small again, the walls closing in on me as I shrink to a child with my shoulders hunching forward and my skin burning. All the training and punishments are coming back and then she smiles.

The same smile she gave me before she tied me to a chair with her pashmina scarf and made me watch as she melted my bouncy ball.

No. I know things.

I'm not nameless or Ana.

I have a dad now, uncles, a family.

That means I'm a person.

My voice doesn't come out and she smiles wider as my vision blurs. A scream rips from my throat, seeing the gun in her hand and I trip over my own feet as I run towards Dima.

"No!"

I stop on the last step as she raises it and points it at him.

"I'll do whatever you want," I beg, nodding.

Dima's head snaps up at the sound of my voice, but I don't look at him. If I do I'll break, this way I'll be fine. He'll be alive and happy, so I'll be fine. If he's here, he told everyone else.

I have family, they'll help him.

He's friends with them, they'll help him.

They care about him, they'll help him.

She looks at the gun in my hand and I throw it against the wall so it's out of reach as I plead with my tormentor.

"Let him go and I'll do whatever you want. Promise."

Ants, so many ants, crawling over my skin as she takes a step closer, and Dima tries to get me to shut up.

"I'm not leaving, kill me."

Anton is passed the fuck out on the floor in a pool of blood, but Yulia has a gun and it's pointed directly at Dima. I can't move, her finger is on the trigger. The sweet point and a tiny bit of pressure will kill him.

Her voice makes it worse, and I force my shoulders not to move as she snarls, "I told that bastard you would ruin everything."

My head nods, I don't why I'm doing it again, agreeing with the shit she spews when I don't believe it.

"Take your knife," she says lightly, smile widening, "and slit your throat, then I'll let him go."

Dima moves and I look at him as she squeezes the trigger. No, he can't die. His shoulder is pushed back as I scream and my body shakes, knowing if I move she'll make me do it, she'll make it my punishment for disobeying her.

He doesn't stop moving until Yulia points another gun at me.

There's blood soaking through his t-shirt, dark patches against the dust from the scuffle, but the pain in his eyes isn't physical as he looks at me and grits, "Don't you fucking dare do it."

I have to, he was supposed to be safe.

"Vanya! Don't!"

Cool metal touches my neck, I don't remember moving my hand.

His shout has Yulia's attention, her hand shaking on the gun pointed at me until she drops it and focuses solely on him.

No. It needs to be on me and my throat burns, trying to get it back.

"Look. I'm doing it, let him go first. I'll do it, I promise."

The blade digs into my skin, slowly parting it without enough pressure for it to kill me.

He has to be safe first or she'll kill him.

Dima ignores her as though she won't kill him and turns to face me. There are tears in his eyes and he's not close enough to touch but he still tries. His arm stretched out as he begs, "Let me be selfish, lisichka, kill her not yourself."

I'm not killing myself, I'm saving him.

He shouldn't be here. He was supposed to be at home and safe.

The pressure against my neck doesn't increase but I struggle to breathe as Anton rises from the fucking dead and walks into the room. There's no blood on him despite me looking at his dead body beside Dima's feet. There's two of them, he had a fucking twin.

"DIMA!" I scream as the alive Anton gets closer.

This Anton is faster, and he has no fear as he fits a metal bar against Dima's throat and kicks into the back of his knees. He increases the pressure, pulling Dima's head back and digging his knee into the gunshot wound as he says, "It's been a long time, princess, have you missed me?"

The voice. It's his voice, the one that used to stand outside the door, the 104 days.

He digs his fingers into the bullet wound on Dima's shoulder to stop him fighting and it has me frozen. I can't win. It's not a game. But Dima can, he can live.

My tears fall as he tries to push his fingers around the metal bar against his throat and chokes, "Your dad's coming, don't do it."

I have a dad, he'll save Dima. They're friends and it will be okay. As long as Dima lives and gets away from Yulia, he'll be safe. She can't melt him. He'll be hidden like my sticker. Filling with resolve in my decision, I press the knife harder under my jaw and I'm me again.

"As soon as he leaves, I'll do it," I say calmly.

I've found a death I'm scared of. It's not mine, it's Dima's. His screams don't make me turn, it's better this way.

As long as Dima is safe it's okay.

I'll wait for him on Venus.

He promised to meet me.

"Look at me!" he screams.

I can't, he'll be sad, and it hurts.

"Let me be selfish and a coward!"

Two gunshots go off as Yulia fires into Dima's thigh.

"Vanya don't!" he screams as I take a step towards her to get her to stop.

"Let him go!" I'm begging her when I promised myself I would never do it again. "Please, I'll do it, slit my throat, as soon as you let him go."

She's a twisted fucking bitch and shakes her head with dark urgency.

"Not until you do as I said." Her voice drops, becoming conversational, the tone that comes with the mental pain. "Your father is the devil, but his grief will stop him."

A light fills the room showing the not-dead Anton's face as he looks at something on his phone and then to Yulia. They have a silent conversation, and he sighs as Dima struggles to get out from the bar. He's losing more blood, and he's slower. He's usually fast, I've seen him fight, he can anticipate his opponent, but he can't now.

Because I drugged him .

It's my fault.

They were right and I'm wrong.

I hurt everyone.

I flinch at another loud gunshot. It presses the knife against my neck in a shallow line, but I don't feel it because something hits the floor.

It's Dima, he slumps to the floor.

I look at him then.

The bar slowly slides away, and he hits the dirty floor face first as a dark puddle slowly forms beneath him. My entire world crumples and I rush forward, falling to my knees and trying to pick it up. The moonlight filtering through the broken windows shows the red edges but it's just liquid and I quickly push it towards his body.

It has to be inside of him, that's how he lives.

"It's okay, I'll put it back," I mutter. "Then you'll be okay."

Something grabs me by the hair, and I scream as I turn, aiming the knife for anything to get them to stop. Anton moves his body back and I scream louder as I push the blade through his bicep and drag it down in a line. My body jolts as something hits my leg but I can't feel it. I can't feel anything because I'm slipping in the puddle of Dima's life force and everything inside me has ripped to shreds.

He lets go of my hair and punches me in the face, causing me to fall backwards into the dark puddle as Yulia steps forward. My elbow hits Dima's back and it slowly moves underneath me — he's breathing.

He's okay, the dark puddle isn't real.

But I can feel it coating my skin. I don't care about them, or the way light orbs dance around like dust particles in my vision. I quickly sit up on my knees and drag my hands against the floor, pushing the dark puddle back towards where it came again. If I can just get it back inside of his body, he'll be okay.

The dark puddle is too warm. It shouldn't be. The floor is cold, and Dima doesn't speak as my vision blurs with each blink. I keep pushing the puddle towards him, trying to get back, but it gets deeper. The liquid flowing over my hands, soaking into my clothes.

A blow lands against the back of my head and my hair is gripped by harsh fingers. They turn me, forcing me to look at Yulia. Her diamond bracelet glitters in the low light, and she straightens her shoulders as something scratches my nape.

"If you're with me," she muses, "then he can't risk searching."

Who is she talking about? Dima? He's okay? That means he's okay if she's scared and I try to nod my head, but everything dances in front of me.

Drugs.

No.

I don't know what's real anymore. They're not sedatives, never sedatives, they're always the ones that make you see things.

Anton's voice is closer but I'm under water.

"Just kill her here. We're wasting time and he'll be here soon."

I'm back in Yulia's house, the fire is on, and a snowflake falls on my nose. It's warmer than my skin and it doesn't melt. The snowy days were always worse, Marlo would be angrier, more violent and the punishments would burn. But I stick my tongue out to collect the snowflakes so I can have something to drink.

"She's coming with us. Now that he knows what we did last time he won't trust it until he sees the body."