Dirty Collateral

COLL

lia's

17

e the first strike

in 4B who couldn't find their keys after last call. Three deliberate, measured raps-boom... boom... boom-that vibrated through th

the persistent drip from the kitchen faucet I could never fully tighten, the distant wail of sirens that served as New York's lullaby-all faded

ugh twenty-three years of scraping by

gh the pee

knife from the bl

fire escape

ht on a raised nailhead I'd been meaning to hammer down for weeks, the sharp pain barely registering. The deadbolt's s

nd something else-something clean and dangerous, like gunmetal and b

lakes dusted his shoulders but didn't melt, as if the cold itself answered to him. Up close, he was even more wrong for this place-his shoes alone p

h to draw blood, and those eyes-pale gray like the Hudson in winter, utterly devoid of warmth. They tracked over me with clinical precision: my threadbare

lia

ping around my name like a noose. The consonants curled

e peeling paint. The wood grain pressed familiar ridges against my palm-I'd

s eyelashes were unfairly thick for a m

ugh my veins that burned away the last dregs of sleep. I barked out a laugh that sou

e one on the left had a healed gash bisecting his left eyebrow, his expression as blank as a doll's. The other c

ifted a single gloved hand. They froze instantly,

ft-store armchair with stuffing leaking out like innards, the mattress on the floor with its mismatched

had to be about my father's debts-it always was-but the sheer finalit

all. The wood was sticky with old soda residue near

hit the wall hard enough to rattle my teeth. His forearm pressed against my windpipe-not cutting off air, just dem

sian endearment slithered through me, at odds with the threat in his tone. "Your father signed you

in hi

ubble there. Behind him, Scarface actually took a step forward before catch

wolf who'd finally cornered its prey after a long hunt. "Hard

-

-Scarface-snarled something vicious in Russian, his grip loosening just enough for me to

my scalp, bright and white-hot. Tears blurred my vision as my knees hit the floor, the impact

voice cracked like a whip f

Starbursts exploded behind my eyelids. My tongue throbbed w

nst concrete steps, the cold seeping into my bones. Each landing smelled different-second fl

pened. No TVs turned down. The building might as well have been empty, thou

reflected my terrified face back at me-wild eyes, snarled hair, a trickle of blood at the corner of my mouth whe

ng skin. Viktor watched from the sidewalk, his expression unreadable beneath the orange

word ragged. "I'll get t

. Cold spread through my

not

-

le, with a faint hint of lemon polish and something floral underneath. Not my apartment's famili

-the cabin was all cream leather and polished walnut, the kind of luxury that made my thrift-store life seem even more patheti

ms sleeved in Cyrillic tattoos. A crystal tumbler of amber liquid sat untouched on hi

etal biting into my skin. "Where are you taking me?"

, like that shou

the geography to click. Russi

al bit into my skin, leaving angry red marks. The plane

every day of my life, the one I'd begged him to pawn a hundred times. The gold felt heavy in my palm, sti

le eyes and the faint scar cutting through his left eyebrow, "is whether you walk off this pl