The eggs fried and the oil crackled.
I threw my hands up in frustration. “I’m not kidding. My uncle’s not going to pay for me.”
“What about your dad?”
“Dead.”
“Mother?”
“Might as well be dead.”
He looked at me and arched an eyebrow. “How’s that?”
“I don’t feel like telling you my sad fucking story,” I said.
“Fair enough.”
“I was only watching Vlas because it paid a little extra money. I have a job at a restaurant my family owns, but other than that, I don’t see or talk to them and they act like I don’t exist.”
He broke the eggs apart then looked at me. “Over easy?” he asked.
“What?”
“I hate a runny white,” he said. “I always flip mine. You good with that?”
“I don’t give a shit about the eggs.”
He shrugged, flipped the eggs. When they finished, he made up two plates, one with toast and one without.
“Two fried eggs over easy,” he said. “Enjoy.”
“I’m not eating.”
He broke his yolks and ate the eggs with the toast. “I understand your frustration,” he said. “But try to think about your position objectively. You watched me kill your cousin last night. You got his blood on your face. There’s still some staining your clothes. He’s dead as fuck, and now you’re in my apartment. You’re technically my captive.”
“Technically?”
He waved a fork in the air. “The only reason you’re alive is because I think you’re worth something. And here you are, telling me you’re not worth anything at all. Is that about right?”
I opened my mouth and stared at him. “Uh,” I said.
“Is that right?” he asked. “You’re saying you’re worth nothing, and all the trouble I’ve gone through to keep you alive was for nothing?”
“I, uh—” I stopped myself. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not worth anything. But you can just let me leave. I don’t care that you killed Vlas and I don’t care—”
He put his plate down. His fork rattled against the plate.
“You need to understand something.” His voice was soft and his eyes stared into mine. I felt a slow chill make its way down the length of my back. “My boss wants you dead. Pavel would’ve killed you last night and gone home happy if I hadn’t stopped him. If you keep telling me that you’re worthless, I won’t be able to keep you breathing for very long. Do you understand?”
“I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want cooperation.” He gestured at the plate in front of me. “Eat something.”
I stared at the plate then shoved it away. “No, thanks.”
“Robin,” he said, his tone warning.
“I’m not just going to… play along. I keep telling you that I’m worthless, so if you want to kill me, just make it fast.”
He came around the counter. I took a few stumbling steps backwards and nearly tripped on my own feet. He grabbed my wrist and held it tight. He was a big man, inches taller than me, rippled with muscle. He could break me into pieces if he wanted.
“This isn’t going to work,” he said.
“That’s what I keep trying to tell you.”
He shook his head. “No, your attitude. It’s not going to work. If you can’t start trying to convince me that your life is worth a damn then I don’t know how I’m supposed to convince my boss.”
I wanted to hit him. I was worth something. I was a person and life had inherent meaning. I had hopes, fears, dreams. I wanted to be something more than I was.
His grip tightened. It almost hurt.
“Tell me you’re going to think about why I should keep you alive.”
I nodded once. “Okay,” I said. “Just let me go.”
He released me. I took a few more steps backwards to put some space between us.
“Coffee’s ready,” he said. “Get a mug. Fill it up. Take your eggs into the bedroom. You can eat in there.”
“Wait, what?”
“I need to shower and I don’t trust you to stay put. So get in my room.”
“You’re locking me in?”
“Yep.” He crossed his arms. “Please, explain to me why I shouldn’t.”
I glared at him and said nothing. I walked over to the counter, got my plate, filled a mug with coffee, then brushed past him. I saw a little smile out of my corner of my eye and I was tempted to throw the hot coffee in his face.
Except I didn’t think that would do anything other than scar him and get me killed.
I walked into the bedroom. He shut the door behind me. I heard him drag something over. I tried the door and pushed, but he’d jammed it shut.
“Stay put,” he said, voice muffled. “Enjoy your breakfast.”
I heard him walk down the hall. I heard the bathroom door shut.
The water turned on and I pictured it rolling down his handsome face, down his muscular torso, dripping down onto the tub at his feet.
I put the plate down on top of his dresser and sat with my back against the end of his bed. I sipped the coffee and stared at the closet door.