A Million Different Ways (Horn Duet 1)

“Take these groceries to your mother,” I told the boys. They looked at each other skeptically. “Take them,” I repeated gently.

They took the bags and scurried away. I don’t know how, but somehow I found the strength to get up, turn around, and walk away one more time.

* * *

I still had my wallet––the silver lining, I guess. Although that was about it. No passport. No clothes, other than the ones on my back. I walked for hours until I reached Yuri’s nightclub, hoping desperately to find Emilia.

Darkness had fallen by the time I was standing in front of the locked doors of the club. I burst into tears when I realized it was Sunday night. Exhausted and starving, I found a coffee shop close by, hid in a corner, and ate three stale brioches before I walked back to Pâquis and checked into a hostel.

The man at the front desk handed me a set of sheets and directed me to a room with four beds. There was a tense moment when he asked for identification. Luckily he believed my story about being robbed on the train. One bed was occupied by a young Canadian woman traveling alone, even though she made enough noise for three people, the others were empty.

After washing my face and brushing my teeth with my finger, I crawled into bed fully clothed and stared at the empty blue wall that my bed was smashed up against. I could still see Sebastian’s distraught face in my minds eye, branded there for all eternity. And then I prayed, prayed for God to take away his suffering, to keep him safe. Silent tears soaked my pillow but eventually a dreamless sleep stole my anguish away.

It was still dark out when the Canadian girl began packing her things up. My bleary gaze stumbled upon a digital clock in the room that blinked 4:30. I dragged my grief stricken body to the bathroom. It was clean, thankfully, and empty, but I still took the quickest shower since creation; a result of the paranoia I couldn’t shake. Breakfast was included in the modest price of the room so I went downstairs and ate more than my share. I was constantly hungry now. The morning nausea, coming and going, wasn’t as bad as I had expected.

I dialed Emilia’s number from the lobby payphone. She answered after the third ring. Hearing her voice brought tears to my eyes.

“Em, it’s me,” I choked.

“Vera! Holy shit! He was here.” The few simple words froze my blood. “You told him about me and Yuri,” she continued, a hint of censure in her voice.

My hand flew to my forehead. I had forgotten I had told him. “How was he?”

“He was out of his mind! A fucking maniac! Screaming, threatening us. There was an army of police with him. It scared the shit out of Yuri and nothing scares Yuri––except his mother.”

I bit my lower lip as it trembled, licked the salty tear off the corner of my mouth. “I don’t know how he found my apartment.”

“They tracked your iPhone.”

“I didn’t know they could do that.”

“Have you been living under a rock? Everybody knows that.”

I have no criminal instincts!! Unlike some people whom are routinely exposed to illegal activities…The words were on the tip of my tongue but I refrained.

“Yuri said the club is being watched. I’m sure the apartment is, too. You can’t come here.”

“I need to get out of the country, back to Milan. He has my Italian passport.”

“Shit,” she mumbled then sighed deeply. “Let me speak to Yuri, he may have a package traveling there this weekend.”

A package? Drugs, or something even more unsavory.

“Is it safe, Em?”

“I’ll make sure it is. Call me in three days.”

“Wait, there’s something else––but it has to remain between us.”

“What is it?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Holy shit…holy shit…holy shit. Does he know?”

“No.”

“He looked ready to torture us for information yesterday. I only felt safe because the police was with him. I can’t imagine if he’d known. Why are you running?”

“I have to…to protect him. I can’t explain now. Make sure it’s safe.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Em…I…” My voice cracked, fear and despair clogging my throat.

“Call me in three days,” she repeated and hung up.

* * *

The three longest days of my life. I stayed close to the hostel. I wasn’t certain what lengths Sebastian would go to to find me, what kind of power he could wield. So I stayed out of sight, made myself small, faded into the background.

On the third day, I walked by a cyber café and looked through the glass window for a long time before finding the courage to step inside. I bought a cup of tea and fifteen minutes of time on their computer. My hands shaking violently, I typed in the password to my email account. Two hundred and eleven emails from him.