Page 17 of Maksim
She responds in less than a minute with nothing but a thumbs up emoji, which is … annoying, but expected.
I toss the phone on the bed and head to the basement.
6
ELIRA
I’m already out of sight when the basement door opens.
I hold the metal bar I spent what felt like hours unscrewing from the pull-out bed tightly in my hand, closing my eyes and pressing my back against the side of the couch.
My heels scrape against concrete floor as I drag my feet closer to my rear, making myself as small as I can. There are little options to hide in this basement, so it won’t be long until I’m found, but I still want to surprise my captor.
Someone hums, heavy feet planting off the last step into the basement.
Have they come to kill me?
Take me somewhere else?
Is Maksim awake? Did he tell them what happened?
“Are you hiding, Elira?”
My grip on the bar loosens at the sound of Maksim’s voice, but I don’t let go. He doesn’t sound angry. Last night, when he gave me the keys to his car, he didn’t sound angry then either. He sounded as if he wanted to call a truce. As if we could somehow put this behind us, and I wanted to believe him. I would be less skeptical if he hadn’t spoken so softly when he took me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Maksim says, his voice calm. Even. “You held up your end of the bargain saving my life. What kind of man would I be if I hurt you now?”
I tried to end your life.
He isn’t stupid. He hasn’t forgotten that part.
His footsteps start this way, making my grip on the bar tighten. I won’t use it. Not unless I have to. But I feel a lot safer with it than without it right now.
He doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised when he sees me, deep blue eyes locking onto mine. He stops just out of my reach, holding a plate of food that makes my mouth water the instant I register it.
Food.
My stomach gnaws. My head spins.
How long has it been since I’ve eaten?
Too long. I could go longer if he wasn’t holding it in his hand.
“This again?” He nods to the bar held firmly in my grasp while a slight smirk lifts his lips. “I thought we were going to be friends.”
Friends.
He doesn’t mean that. I don’t know what his endgame is for me, but if he was my friend, he would let me go.
When I say nothing, his smirk falls. Letting out a sigh, he lowers himself to the floor to sit a metre away. He extends a free hand while holding the plate slightly back with the other, giving a silent offer to exchange.
I hesitantly place the bar in his hand before taking the plate. My stomach gnaws some more, coming alive for the first time in probably a day and a half. I expect the aroma of the…waffles?...to blow up my senses, but it doesn’t come, and I don’t wait for the smell to hit me. I pick up one of the small, oddly colored waffles and shove it in my mouth.
Maksim watches while I eat like a piranha, barely tasting, which is a good thing because I’m not sure these are waffles. They taste bland, and … I don’t know, not good, but I don’t suppose they give their prisoners the good food.
“Are you thirsty?” Maksim asks me when I only have one bite left.
No, I’m not, but I nod anyway in hopes that he’ll give me a cup or something I can keep. I figured out how to get cold water in the laundry machine soon after they threw me down here, and that was after I’d hydrated in the shower. I’ve pretty much covered my bases in terms of hydration.