I know it's short and... incoherent and it took me a while to cough it up. Uh. Don't hate me. Things will happen in next chapter.


Chapter Seven
Break Me

Steps were coming closer and closer by the second. One wouldn't have to be a genius to figure out that the look on Boris' face was not a nice one. Whatever reason he had to run from the police, I bet it was a good one. But good didn't necessarily mean 'sane', and I for my part was sick of running. As I opened my mouth to speak, Boris just pressed his hand closer. My heart went haywire, heat rising from my cheeks. Whatever my body was doing, this was not the time to act crazy.

''Fuck'' escaped low and dark from his mouth, and just when I was about to struggle he swung me over his shoulder.

I must have made some odd sound, through the pain that suddenly rushed through me it was a bit difficult to tell. But judging by the way Boris glared at me, I understood it was better to follow him to crazyland and ask questions later. Hearing the voices of the doctor and the police officers outside, Boris quickly got into action. Hiding as well as he could behind the door, none of us breathed.

And then all hell broke loose.

The first one to enter the room was the oblivious doctor, who upon entrance got greeted with a hit to the head. Unconscious on the floor, the next one to enter was one of the officers. And he did not look happy.

''Tuller, come on! I need – '' but he didn't get further before he joined the doctor on the floor.

The second officer barely got over the threshold before he was run over by a wild Boris, who darted out of the room and sped off into the corridor like a speeding bullet. Seeing Boris run was still a sight I had yet to accommodate to. Flung up on his shoulder like a deer on the car was another thing I still didn't find pleasant.

''Fuck! Stop them! Stop those people! Security!''

I don't know who yelled that last part, but I know it got Boris to run faster. Through some halls, down some stairs, across some people. Several things getting tipped over in the process, by the time we had reached the main entrance everyone knew we were there. From the corner of my eye I could see security guards heading our way, but Boris must have been working out because he outran every last one of them. The smell of his sweat and my own adrenaline filled the air, and my heart was by now thumping so loudly I couldn't even hear Boris' raging steps.

What surprised me was how he never seemed to get tired. That same determined look in his eyes, stubbornly gritting his teeth as his steps only grew quicker. Soon we were lost in the distance, unable to find as we seemed to disappear into thin air. Boris rounded corner after corner, and in the distance I thought I could hear sirens. The fear pushed at the back of my throat, my body threatening to pass out but I refused to lose consciousness in a situation like this. When Boris stopped, if he stopped, he sure had a lot of explaining to do.

The Russian panted heavily, finally starting to feel the exhaustion eating away at his muscles. He looked around, almost frantically, not too happy about being the prey this time. But he had no time to lose on brooding, and instead seemed to search his mind for something. An escape route, perhaps, or a refuge. Whatever it was, as the sirens came closer he sped off again.

Fear was growing in me, like a wild, raging fire that burnt all it touched. Searing through my mind I was starting to panic. I had no idea what to expect. Not knowing what was about to happen was perhaps one of the most frightening things that could happen during that moment. Running from the police, with a criminal carrying me through the city, I had no idea what to think anymore. Should I trust the man who saved my life, or the people chasing us in cars with crying blue lights?

We could trust no one. We could turn nowhere. We were completely alone with no one to watch our backs but each other. And that, more than anything, was what made my brain go numb. Still conscious, I was not fully aware of what was happening anymore. I didn't know when the sounds of the police died out in the distance, or when the buildings around me turned from decent to decadent. I had no idea when Boris stopped running, but suddenly he just had. It was like leaping from one reality to another, walking into an entirely different world.

Boris didn't put me down as he fiddled with the door of some place somewhere in the middle of nothing. Even though I was awake I had no idea of where we were, and even less did I know about how to get away from there. When Boris had opened the door, I didn't know if we entered a prison or a safe-house. Cold and darkness greeted me, and when the door closed with a loud slam a suffocating, damp smell corroded the air. Like the place hadn't been touched for a very long time. I secretly wondered if only Boris knew of its existence and if so, was that a bad thing?

He put me down on a cold and hard floor, much like the one in the warehouse where all of this madness had started. He crept around in the room for a while, during which I made no movement at all. I simply sat, staring, trying my hardest to breathe but my lungs had seemed to close themselves. Not even when Boris had seemed to find a light switch and the room was illuminated, showing every piece of emptiness there was, did I calm down. On the contrary, the fear and the panic only grew.

''Kon?''

I must have started hyperventilating, because Boris was kneeling in front of me now, looking at me oddly. Like I was a nuisance, and thinking that I couldn't calm down. What if he was about to leave me there? Lock me up? What on earth would I do? Should I try to escape? What if Garland found me? Found us? What would happen? Why couldn't the police get involved? Where were we? How long had I been gone? Was this even happening to me? It was too surreal. Even after all our escapades I couldn't swallow the insanity of my situation.

''Kon, you're panicking. Calm down.''

But Boris' voice couldn't bring me back to reality. It did little to no good and instead I was close to tears. I could see and hear nothing. I couldn't even feel him as he crouched in front of me, annoyance coursing through his features. My breathing came quick, sharp and painful like glass in my throat and the room itself started to spin. Then suddenly, he slapped me. The pain came small and sneaky at first, before blooming into full feathered agony. I glared at him, confused, disoriented and furious.

''Back to the real world now?''

I gasped, gulped for air when all I wanted to do was curl into a little ball and disappear. Instead I only saw him, his malicious face and cold and brutal eyes. This relentless man that had spelt nothing but trouble from the moment I met him. A sudden surge of hate swelled inside of me, and with the anger, the fear and the confusion, a frustration exploded that I had never experienced before in my life. I was alone and felt so utterly helpless.

''I hake you'' was all I managed to press through my swollen tongue and dry mouth.

But Boris heard. And he understood. One look was all he gave me, before he stood up. I didn't even miss him when he left the room.

X

I didn't know for how long we had stayed there. But after a while my tongue was back to normal again, and the pain in my wounds was less noticeable. Nothing had really happened though. All we had done was wait. Listened. Expected the door to be knocked down and for one of our many enemies to burst in. But nothing happened and the waiting was worse than I imagined any kind of torture to be. All Boris did was stumble in, reeking of alcohol before he disappeared again. Sometimes he'd return with something, more often than so I figured it to be some sort of drug. The drugs would come and go, and with it also money. I didn't know quite how he did it, but somehow Boris had found his last resort to keep us alive.

I refused to eat the food he bought, only changing into the clothes he once brought with him but other than that I just sat there. We never spoke. Once or twice he would yell at me, then disappear to reappear an hour later, reeking even worse than before. Oh god, how I missed showering. I guess the only thing that kept me from smelling the unbearable odour of my body was the fact that the alcohol on Boris' breath was even worse. I guess him smoking inside was a helpful factor as well.

Time stretched on and I was slowly starting to lose hope.

X

''They know who you are now. You have to stay with me or die.''

I didn't look at him as he spoke. It was the first time I had actually heard him speak in days. Instead I just sighed, tiredly, angrily. I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

''The latter isn't looking too bad at the moment.'' Was all I said.

Surprisingly enough, he didn't answer. He just took another sip from the bottle, and when I finally looked at him, he looked almost… sad. It was gone as soon as I blinked, and instead he looked like he always had. If yet a bit more worn and tired. But still the same Boris he had always been. But I guess there had to be more to him than that. After all, he'd wandered down into criminality without anyone noticing. What else could he be hiding under that scowling mask of his? I didn't know, and for the record I didn't want to know either.

''Still a mother's dream, aren't you?''

He grunted.

''I wouldn't know.''

X

One day he had surprisingly enough been sober. He'd stumbled into the room, or apartment, or whatever it was, around what I assumed to be midnight and sat down on the creaky, tattered old bed that was placed in a dirty corner. Then he'd just spent the next twenty minutes glaring at me, as if deep in thought. I had been gracefully ignoring him, but there was one question that I just couldn't get out of my mind.

''What do we do now?'' I said, and the silence that followed wasn't completely unexpected.

What was though, was his answer.

''Keep waiting.''

I didn't say anything at first, just looked at him as if all of it was some demented joke. But we both knew it wasn't, and the seriousness of the situation was nothing to be forgotten. I sighed, hiding my head in my hands.

''Do you even have a plan?''

''What's your point?''

He thought I wouldn't notice, but through the corner of my eyes I could see him glance at me. It was for the briefest of moments, but I caught it none the less. And I did not like the look in his eyes. I didn't know quite what it was, but I knew it was not made for him. If it wasn't glee, anger, hate or malice, then it was wrong.

''As long as we run they'll have a better chance of getting to us.''

''I know.''

I sighed.

''So why don't we..?''

Boris snarled, turning his eyes away to stare blankly ahead of himself. I didn't like the tremors of anger I could see running through his body, or the deep, throat-slitting growl in his voice as he spoke next. I knew that whatever words came spewing out of his mouth, they would be the final and unchangeable truth.

''Go to the police? You don't think that son of a bitch has someone working there?''

''But… you mean… like a mole? Boris, that's… Mobster level. That's god damn Cosa Nostra!''

He was trembling fiercer now, jaw taut in a way to keep the anger to break out of him fully. Biting back the monster that was no doubt stirring inside of him. Just like I had to bit back my own fear.

''Garland's no Godfather but just because he's not the biggest of the big, doesn't mean he doesn't have a few tricks up his sleeve.''

That lump in my throat just grew bigger. If there had been any hope to our situation, Life just put it out like pissing on a fire. I closed my hands into shaking fists, tensing up as the confusion filled me with its bitter poison. I swallowed.

Everyone hates lies but no one likes the truth. Right then I would have preferred the first.

''Then… we have no one.''

''Bingo kitten.''

''Don't joke like that.'' I snarled, not sure if I was sad or angry at the moment. Perhaps a little bit of both. ''This isn't… time for your stupid nicknames or your… stupidity! We can't go to the police, we can't contact any of our friends because Garland'll surely hurt them! We can't stay on the street and we can't… we're… trapped!''

They were words I had felt on the tip of my tongue for days, yet I'd been too afraid to speak them out loud. Their foul and poisonous taste had been corroding my mouth all the way through, yet speaking them gave me no sense of relief. In fact, admitting my disadvantage only made it worse. I felt locked up and chained, like a tiger in a cage that was a minute away from being put down.

And the worst part was that Boris didn't even make a face.

''Won't people notice you broke into their place?''

I tried to change the subject, but couldn't even fool myself as my heart sank further.

''It's a black market warehouse for meds. They're used to it by now.''

''Shouldn't they keep a tighter security in that case?''

''Business been bad''

I didn't want to know how he knew this. Least of all I wanted to know just how happy the illegal pharmacists would be when they realized what we'd done. I especially didn't want to think about how much money Boris' pissed away last time by stealing that disinfectant and god knew what else he could have laid his hands on. As if we weren't hated enough around there. All we seemed to do was get into deeper and deeper shit.

''I'm going for a drink. You want one?''

I simply shook my head.

X

When he came back he was drunk like a fish. I didn't mind, as I thought it was a perfect opportunity to get him to tell me things he otherwise would have kept to himself. All I had been able to do in the silence, was think of a way to get out of there. But when it came down to it, I wasn't sure I really wanted to. Or, I did, but could I just leave him there? The more I thought about things, the less sense did they make.

''Boris…''

He looked at me with hazy eyes, drunk like so many other nights.

''What?'' he slurred, stopping in his movements as he was cleaning something.

''How did you end up like this?''

A long moment of silence followed. A moment during which he held the object up to inspect it, his eyes darting between the object and me. Which was when I noticed just what it was, and the panic I had forgotten made itself known again. Ripping through me without mercy, destroying every rational thought inside.

''Boris what the hell?! Is that a gun?!''

He looked at me in indifference, eyeing the gun for a while before returning to his cleaning.

''Gotta keep yourself safe, kitten''

I just gaped, incredulous and furious as I eyed him and the weapon. I didn't know just quite how to react or what to say, but settled on being angry as my first choice.

''Are you insane?!''

He shot me a thin glare.

''How about a 'Thank you Boris for being so considerate of my sorry ass even though all I've done recently is whine, bitch and bleed'?''

I growled, balling my fist in anger.

''Whose fault is that?!''

''Well I didn't land your ass into this mess! You did! You just had to stick your nose where it didn't fucking belong and butt into my fucking life!''

''Maye if you hadn't associated with those people from the beginning your life would have been different!''

''What the hell do you know?!''

His roar echoed long before his words had silenced, and he looked at me now with eyes so full of hate something inside of me died. There had been something hidden in his voice, something so human that for a moment, my own anger subdued. But his face was still angry and callous, his heart still cold as he looked down at the gun again. The silence that followed was the most awkward in my entire life.

My throat dried up again, and for a moment I felt sad.

''What the hell happened to you, Boris?'' I whispered, too tired to argue anymore.

I hadn't expected an answer, but then he looked at me with that piercing look in his eyes.

''Life did.''

I swallowed.

''But… drugs? Gangs? Guns? I just don't… understand it.''

He sighed, putting the gun down as he leaned his head in his hands. He sat there on the bed, looking immersed in his own little world and for a moment I thought he would stand up and leave. But he just sat there in silence, and I couldn't help but feel something inside of me ache. I guess that could be the reason why I walked over to him. Perhaps it's just my caring nature, always getting me into more than I could handle. Or perhaps it was momentary insanity. Some things in life just can't be explained. Perhaps that was the thing with him, perhaps it was always the thing with him. Whatever reason any of us had, I sat down next to him and nudged him in the shoulder.

''Hey'' I said, but he still refused to look at me. ''Don't worry. We'll get out of this.''

That was when he surprised me by turning around to look me right in the eyes. My jaw dropped slightly in shock, as there was something moving in them that I didn't really recognize. Somewhere behind that drunken fog was something ferocious, wild and untamed, and it scared me just as much as it intrigued me. And then, he leaned in and kissed me.

Harsh, cold and savagely. I didn't have time to react before he had pushed me down on my back, kissing me harder now. So hard it almost hurt.

Angry, strong hands roamed places they seemed to be longing for. Relentless of if it hurt or not, not a piece of gentleness in his movements, clothes were torn off, kisses were planted and everything just happened so fast. Like pulling the trigger of a gun. I don't know what went through our minds, at the time. But something in his kisses made me yearn for more. Something in the pain it brought made me forget the mental pain, and his hands were fast and clumsy yet I wanted them to never stop touching me. Maye it was just a way to relieve stress, or a way to punish ourselves.

Maybe he was too drunk and I was too confused but somehow we ended up together. A mingled mix of sweating bodies and frantic hearts that never stopped rushing. Kisses and moans and cries that were more than just lust. His aggression was taken out on me, and for every love bite I received was another bruise. But I didn't mind. He wanted to hurt me and I wanted to be hurt. Over and over and over until I could think of nothing else but how we defiled each other. And just for the briefest of moments, I wouldn't feel so alone.

Then I looked at him through sweat covered bangs, deep into cutting, blue eyes that would haunt me when I fell asleep. And he left me, rushed into his clothes and out of the room, leaving me flat on my back, naked and confused.

What first had been a once-in-a-life-time-mistake, ended up into a regularly occurring accident. He would leave, return drunk, and it would happen all over again, until we screamed ourselves to exhaustion. Then he would distance himself for days, before he stumbled through that door again. Drunk, the only warmth in his ice-blue eyes being the burning lust.

I wondered if it had been there before, if I'd been too blind to see it. Maybe it'd been there for a long, long time, because something in the way he would look at me told me that this wasn't something he just came up with. This wasn't some momentary idea that suddenly came to his mind.

But I never really figured out what it was, and then he'd just leave. Pretending it never happened. It was an evil circle, happening over and over again.
What scared me the most was that I didn't want it to stop.

X

I had been staring at him for hours. He was silently sleeping the alcohol off next to me, the sweat since long dried and the heat lost somewhere in the cold of his eyes. He was tangled in a thin blanket, the only one there was and left was I shivering next to him. I had inched closer sometime during the night, attracted to the body heat as a source of warmth but I didn't dare do it again in case he woke up. So instead I lay looking, watching, studying.

I didn't know how much time had passed, or how much longer we would stay there. But I knew we couldn't hide in that crappy excuse for a room forever. I also knew we couldn't keep up our evil circle, because it would only lead to confusion. Something odd had been gnawing inside of me since the day it all started, yet I hadn't spent it much thought as things had unraveled, one chaos after another. But seeing how I was lying next to him now, I couldn't help but start thinking again. Wondering if there was something more to all of this.

I sighed. It sure didn't look bright as it was.

A shiver of cold ran through me, and bad idea or not, I did not feel like lying there, freezing to death. So finally I inched closer, so close to him now my skin was touching his, trying to hide somewhere between the breaths and the smell of his body. Trying to disappear just for a moment, pretending everything was fine and that I wasn't at all afraid and everything would turn out great in the end.

I don't know when I even started crying, but for the first time in forever I couldn't hold the tears back. It was a good thing he was asleep, as I assume he wouldn't take it too lightly that I cried all over his arm. All the time I prayed for him not to wake up. I don't know how long I lay there, sobbing as quietly as I could. It must have been another hour. It was hard to tell without a watch.

I couldn't take it. It was too much. The panic was coming back to me and all of a sudden the walls seemed to be closing in on me. The darkness swirled and danced almost mockingly and I was too scared to move. His breathing seemed so out of place as it was calm, natural, like nothing was wrong. Like we were two normal people in a normal apartment sleeping in late in the morning. But it wasn't.

Who knew when they would finally catch up with us? Because the Gods knew they would. What would happen then? Would they kill us? They hadn't exactly seemed friendly during our other encounters. What if the police found us? Would Boris be in jail? Or would Garland's insiders get to us instead? I couldn't breathe, I had to get out of there. Had to find something, a way out, a solution. Getting out of bed as quietly as a cat, I got dressed in a haze and everything after that was as if just a dream.

Rummaging through his clothes, I soon found the key to the door, the only thing between me and the outer world. But as I sat there, holding it, it weighed heavily in my hand. His breathing behind me like a knife stabbing my back. I couldn't just leave him there, could I? But I could always come back, with help. That wasn't a bad idea, was it? He stayed there, I ran for help and everything would turn out fine. But I didn't even now where I was. I didn't have a phone or a map and what if they found me? This could very well be my last chance. And if I screwed it up… I didn't even want to think of what would happen.

The air sticking in my throat like glue or concrete, I suddenly stopped thinking and just went for it. Leaving the room, opening the door and closing it behind me, I left Boris in the darkness. Hoping that I'd made the right decision.