Page 122 of Lilies from Hell

“What do you think will kill you first? My hands or the shit you put in your body?” I whisper to my brother, my words bordering on aggressive and a playful gleam in my eyes.

“Most likely the latter.”

“We’ll see about that,” I say before walking past him, bumping my shoulder against his.

My lips already reflect the happiness I feel in my chest when I see her sitting in front of the bonfire with her legs tucked under her.

The fire complemented her hair and the sparkle in her eyes, and I wanted to keep that image in my mind forever.

“We’re playing truth or dare. Want to join us?” I accept without even thinking. Denis gives me an amused smile and I flip him off discreetly.

“Great, let’s get started then,” says a brown-haired girl, spinning an empty rum bottle. The bottle stops pointing at Grace. “Grace, right?” She nods. “Okay, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss Denis.”

“Can’t it be something else?”

“No.”

Grace walks over to Denis with an unhappy face. When their mouths collide I glance at Sergei. I shake my head sternly, signaling him not to move when he is about to get up. If he didn’t make it official with her, that’s his fucking problem.

“Are you leaving already?” my brother asks, his eyes slightly red. “Let me know when you arrive.” I nod and kiss him on the cheek. When Jason goes to shake Alek's hand, Alek turns away on his way to the car, not before murmuring a simple goodbye.

The thoughts I had kept to myself resurface, wanting to know why he avoids contact with others so much. He waits leaning on the front of the car with a cigarette between his lips while I say goodbye to the others. His gaze consumes me like the ashes consume his cigarette. He still makes me nervous, just like the first time I saw him in that library when we were children.

I put my old clothes back on and slide into the passenger seat. His hand begins to brush my inner thigh as the car pulls away.

“I didn’t know you and James were siblings,” I whisper, remembering James’s words.

If James thinks he’s a monster, he should know that I’m no better. There’s a reason I always come back and accept his rotten heart as if it were the finest of gifts.

“You knew, but you didn’t remember. Did he tell you?” I nod.

“What else don’t I remember?”

“There are many things.” I press my lips together in frustration. It’s horrible not being able to remember important things of your life. I feel like my life is divided in two instead of being one.

“Tell me. I have a right to know,” I say.

“I promise I’ll tell you another day.”

“Tomorrow?” He lifts the corners of his lips in a brief smile.

“Okay, tomorrow,” he says.

When he glances in the rearview mirror, his smile fades and he speeds up. Just then, he receives a call. His lips move fast letting out aggressive words in Russian.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my heart racing, when he finishes the call.

He opens his mouth to speak, but, like me, he pays more attention to the bullets that ping off the bulletproof glass and reinforced trunk. Dozens more follow. He can barely dodge them all. The outside of the car is riddled with holes, and some bullets have even hit the back seats. He curses under his breath before jerking the steering wheel and turning us onto a dirt and gravel road.

I dig my nails into the seat as I try to regulate my breathing to stay calm. His voice is clear when he asks me to open the hidden compartment inside the glove box and hand him a heavy weapon that looks like something out of a war movie. How did it even fit in there?

“I need you to take the wheel for a minute, love.” I nod, unable to speak because of the lump in my throat. Then I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb on top of him with the steering wheel in my trembling hands.

He rolls down the window and points the gun somewhere, firing a series of shots that sound like explosions and rumble in my ears, leaving a ringing sound. It’s not until the fire starts to spread behind us that he rolls up the window and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to his lap.