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The call came a few minutes later. She glanced at the screen and saw it was Katya calling her. She could use any distraction from pondering about her personal issues. And what better way than have a chat with the bubbly girl? It was an odd time to call, but then she remembered the girl had had a date tonight. Maybe a call this late meant she’d had a bad date and wanted to vent.
“Hey, Katya.”
The line was silent for a moment. Elena checked if the call was still ongoing when Katya cleared her throat.
“Can you please come to pick me up?”
Unease prickled her back. Elena sat straight up and turned on the bedside lamp. “Of course. I’ll be right there, just send me the address.”
She didn’t ask why Katya needed a car. Something must have gone wrong.
Another silence fell before Katya regrouped. “Please don’t tell Viking you’re coming. Or any of the other guys.”
Now she really had her worried. “Viking’s not home so he won’t notice me leaving.” That still left her Baran to deal with. She knew he was watching her every move.
“Thank you, Lena.”
It was the tone of voice in which Katya said her name that froze Elena in place. She sounded so vulnerable, and did she hear a sniffle in her voice?
“Katya, please tell me you’re all right.” She was freaking out a little, but couldn’t let that worry slip into her voice. What the girl needed right now was mom Elena, not just her friend Elena.
“I…he…it was a bad date.”
She’d already figured that out. Not wasting any more time she jumped out of bed and grabbed a pair of jeans. “How bad is bad?”
Katya sighed. “He drank too much. When I pointed that out, he took my keys and won’t give them back.”
The slushy drunk. “Sit tight. I’m on my way.” She grabbed a black tank top off the floor.
Her phone dinged. Katya had sent her location.
She searched the apartment for car keys, then she went looking for the other thing she needed. Bingo. Viking might say he was changed, but he still kept a bat in the pantry closet. She put on the first pair of shoes she could find: a pair of pointy heels.
Pocketing the car keys and her phone, she slowly opened the door. She knew it would take less than a minute for Baran to figure out she’d left. She punched in the elevator button to take her to the parking garage. Adrenaline was coursing through her body, spiking her heart rate. Pressing the car’s fob, she hurried through the parking garage until the lights of a black BMW lit up. Based on her calculations it would take less than a minute before Baran would show up.
The car smelled of new leather. She put it in gear and just raced passed Baran. He looked at her as if she was a crazy person. It gave her great joy to see him yelling at her in the rear view window.
When the song “16 Shots” blasted through the speakers, she turned up the volume. It was perfectly portraying her mood.
She found Katya sitting at the curb underneath a lamp post. Her white dress and pink strands of hair were like a beacon.
After killing the engine, she hurried over to the girl.
Katya was holding one shoe in her hands. “I threw the other at his head when he refused to give back my car keys,” she explained, her gaze staring down.
“Which house is his?”
“It’s the one with the petunias.”
“Katya, look at me.” When she didn’t, Elena gently tilted her head up. Then she saw the swelling on Katya’s left cheek.
“It’s not as bad as it looks. I kicked him in the nuts.”
“He hit you.”
Another shrug. “I gave as good as I got.”
The words slammed into Elena, making her raw and vulnerable. How many times had she been in the exact same spot? How often had one of her brother’s junkie friends tried to lay their hands on her? The dark memories slammed into her like a punch to the stomach. She felt Katya’s pain as her own, almost tasting her fear.
