Dangerous Games

ONE EVA “Make a sound and she dies.” His gun pressed to the woman’s temple, Dimitri speaks in Russian, his voice as soft as silk. His smile says he assumes I’ll obey his instruction, because experience has taught him that I will. This is an old game between us, one I know well. A game called Do What I Say, or Someone Innocent Suffers. In this case, the someone innocent is a terrified stranger holding a bottle of wine who Dimitri used as a lure. She really could be the woman who owns the Airbnb rental Naz and I checked into, which she identified herself as when I asked through the closed door of the apartment moments ago, but I’ll probably never know. Because her brains are about to paint the porch red. Sorry, lady. I stopped taking orders from this asshole a while ago. My scream is a wild beast of a thing, tearing out of my throat with fangs and claws. It’s long, loud, and composed of a single word. “Naz!” The woman jumps, drops the bottle of wine, and bursts into hysterical tears. Dimitri is so stunned by my disobedience that he simply stares at me in blank disbelief. I take advantage of his surprise and kick him as hard as I can in his balls. He doubles over with a roar but doesn’t drop the gun. The woman shrieks like an air-raid siren. Naz calls out from somewhere behind me, a panicked shout, but my attention is caught by the sound of heavy boots pounding up the wooden stairs to the second-story apartment. I only have time to scream Naz’s name again before a group of armed men dressed all in black swarm the landing at the top of the stairs and crowd there shoulder to shoulder. Dimitri’s soldiers point a forest of handguns at my face. The woman’s eyes roll back into her head, which makes a dull thud as it hits the landing’s iron rail on her way down to the floor. She flops sideways, unconscious, legs splayed. Her plaid housedress rides up, exposing flabby thighs the color and texture of curdled milk. “Take her!” snarls Dimitri through gritted teeth. His eyes blaze cyborg blue, but he’s still doubled over, cradling his groin. I spin around to run but am caught by my T-shirt and yanked backward. My back bumps into a solid surface. A forearm as hard as an iron bar snaps into place around my throat. I scream again, struggling and clawing at the arm that holds me, but my scream is cut short as the arm tightens like a vise. As stars pop in my vision, Naz emerges from the bedroom with his gun in his hand. He strides toward us, arm outstretched, fully nude and heartbreakingly gorgeous. “Stop where you are!” shouts Dimitri in English. Apparently he’s recovered from my attack on his balls, because he jerks upright and shoves the barrel of his gun under my jaw. My teeth clack together with the force of it. Naz freezes in place. His eyes are black and wild. His hair is wet. He’s dripping with moisture from the shower, his body gleaming, his chest heaving up and down with each breath. Each labored, fury-filled breath. I can almost taste his rage. It’s a sharp metallic tang in the air, dangerous enough to cause spontaneous combustion. There’s a moment of electric silence where the only sound is the harsh breathing of the man who’s holding me. His mouth is so close to my ear that his hot breath is a wash of steam down my neck. Then Naz takes a careful step forward, and Dimitri speaks. “Yes, come closer. If you want her dead.” Naz freezes again. He’s focused on Dimitri with extraordinary intensity, his eyes unblinking and his jaw like stone. He appears to have no self-consciousness about his nudity and no fear that he’s staring down a dozen muzzles of loaded guns. Every muscle in his powerful body is tensed, ready to strike. He’s magnificent. David challenging Goliath, the light of vengeance in his eyes. Please, God, don’t let him be about to die! My heart throbbing wildly, I cut my gaze to Dimitri. He gives Naz a cold, purposeful once-over, then says to me in Russian, “Stop fighting and come with me quietly, or I’ll blow that horse c**k of his clean off.” “If he dies, you won’t have any leverage left!” My words sound strangled because of the pressure on my voice box. I cough, gasping. “My only purpose in life would be to kill you!” “I have a suspicion that’s already your only purpose, Evalina, but in any case, a man can survive having his c**k shot off.” His faint smile tells me he’s done that particular bit of nasty business himself, many times. “Shoot him, Naz! Kill this bastard!” Dimitri slices me a lethal look. “Not only disobedience, but also name-calling. I see I’ll need to reteach you manners.” His voice vibrating with fury, Naz says, “If I shoot him, they shoot you.” “How astute, Mr. Mansouri.” Switching to English, Dimitri turns his attention back to Naz. “You always were bright, if a little nearsighted. Now let me be clear so there are no misunderstandings. I’m taking Evalina. She belongs to me. If you follow when we leave, or make an attempt to take what’s mine from me, or in any other way interfere with my property, she pays the price. I’ll send her back to you one piece at a time, starting with her tongue.” His smile turns cruel. “As I’m sure you’ve discovered, it’s the least useful of her body parts.” The air around Naz shimmers with his rage. When he looks at me, entire planets are burning in his eyes. His look says I love you. Stay calm. I wonder if he sees my horror and helplessness, made a million times worse by the realization I had only moments before I opened the door that it’s possible I’m carrying his child.