Authors: Zoya Tessi
I wolfed down my frankly delicious tuna with sweetcorn in less than five minutes and went to join Alex on his couch, which looked so much less expensive than my own, but a lot more comf
ortable.
“And?
What do we do now?”
"For now, we stay here. Khalil probably reckons we’ll try to get you out of the city as fast as we can, so his guys should be close to a lot of major freeways, the train station, the airport… It’s a lot safer to let things cool down for now. When he thinks we’ve slipped the net he’ll let his guard down, and then we’ll see.”
“And Beth? They obviously know where I live. What if they try to come to me through her?”
“It's been handled already. Don’t worry.”
he’d flicked on the TV and lit a cigarette.
“How?”
“She was told the pipes burst in the apartment, and that everything has to be fixed up. Officially, you went away with your father, and we put her in another very nice place until all the ‘renovation work’ is over.”
“Oh... I see.”
As we watched the movie in silence, I looked over at Alex from time to time, hoping he might start talking, but instead he stayed quiet, acting like nothing was up.
After the third movie, I just couldn’t take it any more, so I got up and went to the bathroom. When I came back I found him making up a bed on the couch.
“You’re sleeping there?” I pointed to the couch.
“Yeah.”
“Well, why?”
“More comfortable than the floor.”
I shook my head and headed for the bedroom. Stopping in the doorway, I stared at the massive bed that was going to be all mine, and then back over to the couch, where Alex was settling a pillow, getting ready to pull a thin sheet around him. The couch wasn’t small, but it sure wasn’t big enough either.
“I'm gonna sleep on the couch. Here, you can have the bed.”
“No.”
“Oh come on... it’s not just your feet, your legs are sticking out. You can’t sleep like that.”
“My problem,” he snapped and turned the other way.
“Come here, there’s enough room for both of us in the bed. I promise I ain’t gonna take advantage of you,” I was sure I looked sincere.
“I'm fine here. Go to sleep.”
I tugged at the hem of my t-shirt for a second or two, then pulled back the covers and got into bed, but kept watching through the open door as he struggled to get into a comfortable position. It was clear that I couldn’t let him suffer like that, after all that had happened, but I knew he wouldn’t take orders from me. In that respect I guess we’re alike. Both stubborn asses.
“Alex...
”
“What!?”
“I’m scared. What if someone tries to get in through the window?”
“We are on the fifth
fucking floor, for God’s sake! “
“I know, but ... I’m still scared.
Can you come here? Pretty please....”
“J
esus... You’re so complicated.”
I watched him get up from the couch
and grab a pillow, obviously frustrated. As he entered the room, frowning, he switched off the bedside lamp and lay down on the bed, some distance away from me and facing the wall. I was glad my bluff had come off and curled up satisfied under the blanket at the other side of the bed.
For a while I lay still, but didn’t feel my mind drift away towards sleep. I wondered how long Alex and I would manage with being holed up in such a small space without getting at each other’s throats. I thought of all the things about him that got on my nerves, but then I found I was half smiling in the darkness, somehow enamored with all his faults and ready to forgive anything of this arrogant, uncivilized, tattooed grouch.
An image of Khalil’s man with a knife stuck into his throat came to my mind in a flash, sending a chill down my spine, but then I realized I didn’t really feel anything about that any more. A smart person might have run away from Alex, but even though I knew what he could do, I was there in bed with the guy, fighting all my instincts to snuggle up close.
I turned to watch him closely, trying to decide whether he’d had more success in falling asleep. It was impossible to see his face, since he had his back turned, but from his breathing it appeared that he had. Making sure my movements were as subtle as they could be, I edged over to his side of the bed. When I was just an inch away from his body, I let my head fall on the base of his neck, breathed in his warmth and closed my eyes.
I’d just started to fully relax when I felt him move next to me. Quickly turning around, I shut my eyes firmly, but instead of pushing me away as I expected, he put an arm around my waist and drew me closer.
“Just so that you know... I have no intention of singing you a lullaby.”
“I thought you were asleep,” I mumbled quietly.
“You little hustler...” he whispered and squeezed me tight.
Squinting against the bright sunlight, I instinctively groped around for a pillow to hide my face. After half an hour of twisting in the sheets and trying miserably to get back to sleep, it was finally time to throw in the towel and let a new day begin.
I moved my legs over the edge of the bed and yawned before going the whole nine yards and moving one foot in front of the other i
n the direction of the bathroom.
When I noticed that Alex wasn’t in the living room, I thought he must be leafing through a newspaper on the balcony since the morning was warm and sunny.
“I very much hope that you have coffee here someplace...” I called over my shoulder as I approached the bathroom door, ”otherwise I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
After I’d taken a hot shower and brushed my teeth, I felt the world was coming more into focus
. The washing machine had finished its cycle, so I pulled out my now dry shirt and jeans and I shrieked with delight. Even though everything was creased, it was a true pleasure to finally put something on that didn’t hang down to the floor. Not to mention the bliss of putting on my underwear again.
People take t
he little things for granted.
With the help of a
comb that I’d found in one of the cabinets, I somehow managed to tame my Robert Smith hair and coax it into a fairly decent plait. Going through drawer after drawer in search of a band to hold it in together turned up nothing, so I left in the direction of the kitchen, keeping the braid in place with a hand.
“Hey, any chance you’d have a hair clip somewhere?
Or an elastic band? Anything? And why don’t I smell coffee…” I stopped in the middle of the kitchen area and looked around.
“Alex?” I called louder, but no response came.
Mechanically, I checked the balcony and went back through the main room slowly, then to the corridor, the bedroom and then back to the bathroom, but Alex wasn’t anywhere, a fact that sent me hurtling to the front door to shake the handle a few times, only to find it firmly locked. I took a few steps back, all the while staring at the heavy, locked prison gate as a tide of anxiety rose to subsume me, feeling more and more like I’d been punched in the gut.
Leaning back heavily against the wall, I set my eyes on a clock ticking on the opposite wall. Tears welled up at the corners of my eyes, and even though I knew I was probably being irrational, nothing could stop them from rolling down my cheeks.
Maybe he decided that he'd had enough of me.
Standing in the hallway, I stared at the clock on the wall, without moving my eyes
from the minute hand.
Exactly thirty seven minutes passed before a key turned in the lock, breaking the silence.
“What do we have here? Sleeping beauty decided to wake up by
herself, huh?” Alex walked in with a bunch of bags hanging from his arms, kicking the door closed behind him.
“I thought I'd be back before you woke up, but... What h
appened?”
“I...” blinking several times, I could only shake my head, “Nothing. Why?”
“No kidding. Why were you crying?” he let the bags fall to the floor and moved forward to stand in front of me.
“Don’t be stupid. I've just woken up and I’m still half asleep. That's all.”
Feeling very foolish for having lost the plot, it seemed important not to let him know how very scared I’d been in his absence. I didn’t want him to know the source of my anxiety, which was that I thought he’d gone for good.
Avoiding his eyes, I went around him and picked up two bags, moving to take them through to the kitchen. Alex seemed to hesitate, but then thought better of trying to stop me and picked up the rest of the things to follow me.
“I assumed you wouldn’t want to spend many days living off canned stuff, so I went down to the store. I thought I’d do it now in case you got real hungry and turned violent on me” he set bags down on the table and started removing the things he’d bought and putting them away.
“From the amount of food you picked up, it looks like we’re staying here for a while.”
“I'm still not sure about that, but having enough food can’t hurt.”
When he’d emptied most of the bags and put the food away in cupboards
, he took the three bags that were left and put them on the table in front of me.
“It’s not haute couture.”
I looked at the bags, surprised and slow to understand what he meant.
“I know you probably enjoyed cutting up my clothes, but if that carries on I won’t have anything left in my closet,” he shrugged and leaned against the nearest counter, “Go ahead and open them, they won’t bite, I promise.”
I pulled the bags towards me and began taking out the things he’d bought, one by one. In the largest one there were two soft cotton sweats, one in pink, the other in powder blue, as well as some t-shirts in matching shades. In another I found a pair of faded jeans and two perfectly tasteful, checked cotton shirts. At the very bottom there were a few pairs of socks and some simple canvas sneakers that I might have chosen for myself. I looked at all the things in turn as I took them out of the bags, and carefully lined them up on the table.
When two of the bags were empty, I felt a mixture of unexpected emotions. Everything he’d bought was carefully chosen and everything was the right fit. Not only that, they were the best quality. It was
obvious he’d thought about it and not just bought the first things he’d come across. This wasn’t what I’d expected at all.
Maybe
he likes me after all. Just a little, at least... I know he said the only reason he’d come back for me was my father, but this here has nothing to do with Nikolai. This is for me.
“So? Will they do?”
I lifted my head and looked over at Alex, who had his hands thrust deep in his pockets and was standing at an awkward angle, bent forward, his head angled down. He wasn’t given to looking bashful, but that might have been an adequate description. I guess he couldn’t have known that right then I’d have worn anything that came from him, even an old potato sack, just to know he’d thought of me.
“They’re perfect,” I spoke quietly, “Thanks. I didn’t expect you to...”
“Keep going. You haven’t seen everything yet.”
I bit my lip and turned my attention to the last bag, reaching inside to feel around. Squealing with delight, my h
and came upon a large hairbrush and then the obvious curves of some shampoo bottles. I took out several and set them down next to the clothes, discovering three types of body milk, all for different skin types, and at least five types of shower gel, each with a different scent. It was fun to open them and squeeze just a little, feeling tiny bubbles burst in miniature, perfumed explosions under my nose.
Pointing
a finger at the pile of toiletries now on the table, I looked questioningly at Alex.
“What?” he
shrugged.
“One shower gel would have been enough, don’t you think?”
“Well I didn’t know which one to choose,” he raised his arms in the air as if to defend himself, “You girls have some weird ideas. What if I’d taken just one and that turned out to be the very one you can’t stand? Then you would have taken mine and I’d be left with bloody lavender... Or chocolate, God forbid.”
For a moment I imagined Alex, tall and strong and tattooed, walking round and smelling like
cookies. I put a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh, but it didn’t quite work, and I got the giggles big time.
“It’s not funny,” he looked put out, and I had to grab the back of a chair so that I could stop shaking as another round of laughter took hold.
“I think I'm gonna get stomach cramps,” I managed to say when I’d calmed down enough to string a few words together.
As I
took a small paper parcel tied with pink ribbon at the top, which was left unopened, I noticed Alex shifting his weight from one foot to the other in a way that was out of character. He looked from me to the package, seemingly more uncomfortable by the second.
“Err... I have to...” he gestured vaguely with his arm in the direction of the bedroom and vanished.
Puzzled, and increasingly curious, I followed his exit, then went ahead and pulled on part of the ribbon, letting the parcel fall open. When its contents spilled out, I felt my cheeks flush red.
“Hmm... Alex
?”
“What?” he responded from somewhere out of sight.
“No wonder you spent so long shopping...” I let my comment hang in the air as I examined the stack of silk and lace lingerie, “I see you had lots of fun in one of the stores…”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oooh... I think you do know,” I chuckled quietly, “Who would have thought a savage like you had such exquisite taste in ladies’ undergarments.”
“The assistant chose them,” he said, sounding anything but convincing, “I'm going to take a shower.”
I pulled a silk blue babydoll out from the pile and gave it a closer look.
Yeah... right.
It was almost exactly the same as the one I’d tried on at the mall with him.
The assistant chose them
my ass.
When I got all my new stuff through to the bedroom, I noticed that Alex had already emptied two shelves in the closet, so it seemed natural to start folding things and putting them away, thinking to myself that if anyone were watching, they’d surely think we were a couple. After all, we were living together, sleeping in the same bed, sharing a closet… bickering like an old married couple from time to time.
Is
this what it would really be like to be together? Would Alex still keep his distance if we…
I
stopped myself in mid thought, feeling like it might be a good idea to throw a bucket of cold water over myself.
Stop dreaming! Just because he bought you some nice underwear and clothes that match, does not mean he’s suddenly fallen for you. As soon as the threat from Khalil’s history, he’ll leave and you won’t ever see him again!
Pissed off, having worked myself up a treat, I banged the closet door and marched back to the big room, where I sat down heavily on the couch and turned on the TV. Paying almost no attention, I sat through the weather forecast, thinking what little difference it made whether the sun shone or not if I was stuck indoors indefinitely.
Alex came out of the bathroom holding
a single towel around his waist and walked towards the bedroom. I quickly turned my head away and forced my eyes to stay glued to the screen, thinking it ought to be a crime to look that good.
In spite of my best efforts, it was impossible not to glance over towards the bedroom, where he was sitting on the edge of the bed loosening the towel. I held my breath and was about to clamp my eyes shut when I saw that he had on a pair of boxers, and let out a gasp of relief. Of course, I wasn’t naïve as to what a man looked like naked, but the thought of Alex without clothes kindled a flame inside me.
I watched him tear open a paper packet, unfold the contents and lay a white gauze gently over the place where the bullet had grazed his thigh. Holding this in place with care, he then had to take a bandage from its plastic wrapping, and this was proving more difficult with only one hand.
I got up from the couch and went to the bedroom, determined not to let my eyes linger on his
bare chest, even for an instant.
“Give me that,” I said when I came in front of him, holding my hand out.
He raised his head and looked from my outstretched hand to my face, seemingly bemused at my sudden appearance.
“Relax. It won’t be my first time,” I lied.
I didn’t mention the fact that I‘d only ever bandaged teddy bears, and then when I was around six years old. It seemed like I looked convincing enough because he did as he was told and handed me the roll of white cotton, albeit a little hesitantly. I took it from him and started carefully wrapping it around his thigh, trying not to let it be too tight or too loose.
It was good that he held something over the stitched gash; otherwise I might have fainted at the sight of his blood. Tucking the end of the bandage carefully insid
e one of the folds to finish, I sighed.
“Next time, please
avoid the bullet?”
“I'll try, Princess.”
He was still sitting on the edge of the bed, with me standing between his legs, and my eyes fell on a long, thick stripe of mottled skin on his right thigh. In comparison to that, the fresh wound on his left leg definitely was just a scratch. I reached out my hand and gently ran the back of a finger along the length of the scar.
“You should try a bit harder,” I whispered, “Where did this come from?”
“Some job went wrong. We got caught in the crossfire. It happens.”
“It seems to happen quite a lot, huh?”
“What makes you say that?”
“I saw the scars from bullet wounds on your shoulder and stomach.”
“Who says they’re from bullets?”