Chapter 3

Kimberly

I know I should feel lucky to be alive, but right now as I stare at the cracked screen of my phone and the extortionate medical bill in my hand, all I can think is, how the hell am I supposed to pay for this. I’ve been sitting in the hospital reception area waiting to hear back from them about how much my insurance will cover. I guess a silver lining is that at least my car insurance won’t go up since I won’t have to pay out for the damage to Yaroslav’s car…

Shit. That reminds me. My car’s probably been towed, so that’s another expense to add to the ever-growing list.

Of all the shitty days I’ve had, this has to be up there as one of the worst.

I’m grateful that one good thing about this awful day is that the police weren’t too hard on me. They seemed to believe my version of events, that I’d collided with another car and while I was discussing insurance with the passenger, the car had blown up. They dismissed my initial assumption that the car somehow blew up as a result of the crash, stating that there was evidence of a bomb. They also confirmed that the driver was trapped inside and killed. That poor man… I feel sick just thinking about the explosion and how close to death I was.

The police were initially very interested in Yaroslav, asking how I knew him and what possible reason someone might have for targeting him. It was only after my reassurances that I didn’t know him at all, that it was a case of bad timing—or good as it turned out, because if I hadn’t crashed into him then he’d be dead too—that they dropped it. But now thoughts of the mysterious man are spinning through my mind, and I can’t help asking myself the same thing. Of course, I’m grateful he shielded me from the blast, but why was someone trying to kill him in the first place?

As though summoned by my thoughts, Yaroslav comes sauntering down the corridor into the waiting area. Thankfully, it seems someone brought him a shirt to put on, I’m not sure I could have handled seeing his bare chest again, bandages or not, that is one athletic and ripped man. He turns to speak to the two men that are with him, one big and brawny, the other small yet proud-looking with round glasses and a briefcase. The latter nods and says goodbye, striding out of the building with purpose, the bigger one heads over to the reception desk.

To my surprise, Yaroslav makes a beeline toward me, sitting down in one of the uncomfortable well-worn chairs beside me.

“How are you holding up?” he asks me, his tone gentle yet not condescending.

I’m mortified to find that tears well up and I have to hold myself back from breaking down completely. I feel so hopeless yet so absurdly grateful at the same time.

“Thank you… for saving me… are you badly hurt? I’m… I’ll pay for your medical bills, it’s the least I can do. After well… everything,” I ramble, unsure of how to find the words to console him on the loss of a man he knew, to ask why someone tried to kill him, or why his first instinct was to shield me from the blast.

A small furrow appears on his forehead, and he seems genuinely perplexed by my words. Have I somehow offended him? He doesn’t seem like someone with money troubles, but considering I banged up his car before it was destroyed and then he took a hit for me and got injured, surely, it’s the right thing to do?

He shakes his head. “I am fine, a few minor burns and abrasions, they will heal quickly. And as for medical bills, I will take care of everything. Mine and yours.”

I open my mouth to protest but he holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks before I can speak.

“Please. It is a drop in the bucket for me. And I owe you,” he states simply.

“You owe me?” I ask incredulously, wondering if he’s the one with the head injury.

His brown eyes search mine and he replies seriously, “Yes. If it wasn’t for the accident, I would have been in the car. I would have died alongside Ivan. So, I owe you a life debt.”

“It wasn’t like I knew what was going to happen… you don’t owe me anything, really,” I reply, slightly uneasy with his serious tone. He sounds like he’s swearing an oath.

“I do. I won’t take no for an answer. I’m paying for your medical costs. And your car,” he adds as an afterthought.

I wish I could refuse, but I’d be stupid not to. I was just worrying about how I was going to pay for all this and then lo and behold, the answer to my prayer comes along and offers to pay for everything.

“Thank you, that’s very generous,” I reply earnestly, flushing under the intensity of his focused gaze.

“I happen to value my life. A few medical bills and the cost of fixing your… vehicle,” he hesitates on this, clearly holding back any insulting comments about the state of my car, “It doesn’t cover the debt I owe you. Pass me your phone, I’ll give you my number, you can call me if you’re ever in a bind.”

I hold up my broken phone, looking glum. “It’s broken…” I say forlornly.

He looks like he’s contemplating something for a moment then he nods and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a wallet and producing a business card. He hands it to me with a flick of his wrist. The business card is ridiculously thick and luxurious, I’m almost afraid to touch it lest I sully its pristine white surface.

“Don’t lose it. I’m a good person to have on your side if you’re in need. Consider it a one-time favor owed, so use it wisely.”

I nod, the conversation has been so surreal I don’t quite know how to respond.

He gets up and glances back at me one last time. “Goodbye, Miss Walsh.”

I look at the business card, Yaroslav Volkov. “Erm, goodbye Mr. Volkov.”

He chuckles slightly as though amused, but he doesn’t say anything else. I watch his confident, commanding frame as he walks away. Every set of eyes turns to look at him, as though drawn by invisible magnets. I can’t stop myself from doing the same.

I don’t know who Yaroslav Volkov is, but some instinct in me tells me he’s dangerous. I would be wise to forget all about the encounter and throw his card away. But I can’t quite bring myself to do that. I think of how he so casually offered to pay for all my expenses—costs that would cripple me further financially than I already am. A favor from a rich and powerful man like that could come in very handy one day.