Page 39 of I’m The Worst

Nothing.

He might as well be deaf.

Savva and the others laugh, talking in a mix of Russian and English. Relaxed and completely careless. Wolff is the opposite—stone still, observing every movement.

“Hey.” I nudge his boot lightly under the table.

His head whips toward me so fast that I jerk back. A scowl on his face, eyes bloodshot and bruised by lack of sleep.

“Stop talking and eat. We leave in twenty.”

“Did you sleep?”

He sets down his coffee hard enough that the tin rattles. “Christ.” He pushes up from the bench. “You talk too much.” Then he walks out the door.

Savva watches him go, a cigarette between his lips. I take a few more bites of food and shove the tin aside.

Savva laughs at something Sergei says, and then I hear it.

Akim.

My blood turns to ice.

“Did you say Akim?” I blurt, standing so quickly the bench scrapes. My tin crashes to the floor.

Savva raises an eyebrow. “Easy, girl⁠—”

“What about Akim? Why did you say his name? Does he know we’re here?”

My stomach knots as every muscle in my body locks tight. I can’t go back. I can’t. Savva lights another cigarette, eyes narrowing. He doesn’t answer.

“Tell me! Why did you say his name?” I shout.

He exhales smoke. “Ask K9.”

“No.” My voice cracks. “No—” Heart pounding, I bolt out the door.

“Wolff!” I sprint toward the truck where he’s bent under the hood. “Does Akim know where we are?”

He slams the hood down, the sound echoing. “No.”

“Then why did they say his name?” I press, out of breath.

Opening the passenger door, he digs through a duffel. He draws a pistol, checking the clip.

At his lack of response, my panic ratchets higher. “I’m serious, Wolff. I won’t⁠—”

He tosses a bag of clothes at me without looking. It hits my chest.

“Go change.” He slings the duffel over his shoulder and walks back into the house, done with the conversation. I stand there holding the bag as my mind spirals—Akim. If he found me…

I can’t go back.

I won’t.

I would rather die than go back to that hell.

Still uneasy, I swallow hard and walk inside, ignoring the laughter spilling from the kitchen. Back in the bedroom, I unzip the bag. Thick leggings. An oversized hoodie. Boots. I pull the leggings on, then the hoodie that swallows me.