The guard blocked me but said nothing.
The other tried to pick me up.
I inched back. “Listen. You have to let me in there.”
More screams came.
Someone cried.
Glass shattered.
“No!” My eyes watered. “Misha! Come out! Don’t do it!”
“Yo, Ava!” Down the hallway, Maxwell rushed toward me, limping and holding his crotch.
Damn it! He’s going to take me back.
Right when I was going to run from him, Akiva’s office door opened.
Misha walked out. His jacket was off. His tie gone. He wiped his hands on someone’s bloody shirt. When he spotted me, he paused. “You are supposed to be in the dressing room.”
“W-what did you do?” My whole body trembled. “Misha?”
Misha gestured to my guards to go in the office.
They opened the door.
I tried to get a look.
Misha pulled me in the other direction—away from Akiva’s office and even the path to my dressing room. We were heading to the theater’s fire exit.
In a calm voice, he said, “Let’s go to your condo.”
“Wait a minute.” I saw more men stomping down the hallway in different directions. “Misha, what happened?”
Misha nodded at the men and pointed to his office. “It is time to go. We will do lunch at your—”
“I don’t fucking care about lunch!” I headed back to the office.
Misha picked me up and carried me away.
“Let me go.” I tugged at his arms. “Misha, you can’t just—”
We passed one of the rehearsal rooms. A scarred man in a suit stood in front of the door, not letting any of the ballerinas even open it or get out.
Jesus. He’s. . .he’s taken over the theater.
Still carrying me, he whispered, “Ava, when we get in the limo, we can talk.”
My breathing sped up. I looked over his shoulder. Walking out of Akiva’s office, my two guards carried something long and huge.
I squinted.
It was a body!
Oh my God!
My stomach churned with fear and grief.
A cold chill ran up my spine. “H-he’s dead.”
“Not Akiva.” Misha pushed open the exit’s door. Cold air hit my face. He frowned. “You were not supposed to see that.”
“W-who is dead?”
“Let’s just get to the—”
“Misha?” My bottom lip quivered. “Did you kill somebody?”
Far off, police sirens blared.
“Put me down.” I hit his shoulder. “The cops are coming. We have to get you out of here—”
“I am the one who called the cops.” He let me down, took my hand, and led me to the limo. “I have everything under control.”
“Y-you called the cops?” Shock filled my head. So many thoughts twisted through my head. “My. . .my grandmother we have to get her—”
“I handled that. Maxwell is bringing her to the limo.”
My feet felt wobbly as I hurried off with him. “Wait. You called the cops?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To.” Misha cleared his throat. “To help with the bodies.”
Bodies. . .
My heart slammed against my ribcage. My stomach twisted. I felt close to vomiting. I stopped in the alley and bent over. How had everything changed so fast? Nothing would ever be the same—not for me or Misha. He’d. . .he had killed someone.
Misha lifted me up and took me to the limo. “Trust me. It will all be okay.”
The police sounded closer.
My heart boomed in my ears. Bile rose in my throat. I let him carry me, not sure of what to do anymore. In barely five minutes, chaos had ensued, and still I didn’t know anything.
Tires screeched.
I looked ahead.
The limo sat at the mouth of the alleyway.
Several police cars flanked it.
“Oh God!’ I shook my head. “Misha, I’ll tell them. . .that. . .you weren’t even in there or—”
“I called them, Ava. They’re with me.”
My hands shook. My body quaked. “Okay. Okay. I-I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Tears spilled over my cheeks. “Misha. . .”
“It is going to be okay, my love.”
I wiped my tears away.
We stopped at the limo.
He let me down and opened the door. “Get in. I will talk to them.
I followed his instructions. All I knew was that he couldn’t go to jail. Not for my bullshit. Whatever he’d done, it had to have been out of anger.
That’s right. It was self-defense. But. . .he said bodies. How many?
Gulping down fear, I climbed into the limo.
A cop got to the door and spoke fast to him in Russian, “How many are dead?”
Misha stood within the limo’s doorway. “Three. Clean it up. I will take care of you later.”
“And what about their families? These are big ones. Not your usual.”
I froze.
Not his usual?
“I’ll handle the families,” Misha growled. “Get the bodies out of here and everything cleaned up.” Misha got ready to get into the limo and stopped. “Oh yeah. And tell Akiva to keep his mouth shut. I will talk to him later.”
The cop rushed off.
I scooted back as Misha got in.
My view was locked on him.
My body went stiff.
The cop had said, “And what about their families? These are big ones. Not your usual.”