Page 25 of Alik
He slaps a hand over my mouth, pressing himself against me just before air pushes from my lungs.
“That isn’t a good idea, Olive.”
My whimpers are smothered by his palm, and I struggle to take in panicked breaths through my nose. His hand doesn’t feel electric this time. It feels deadly. Like all it would take is the pinch of my nose to shut down everything that runs my existence.
“Shhh,” he coos, his hot breath warming my ear. “It’s all right. Don’t panic.”
He smooths a hand over my head and croons in my ear some more, his icy demeanor seeming to melt. My eyes close as I tremble with fear.
He isn’t here by accident.
He isn’t here by accident.
He isn’t here by accident.
Which means… He must be with the Irish.
I cry harder at this realization, and he shushes me again, peppering kisses over my temple that should do nothing to calm me but manage to quiet my whimpers anyway.
Is that why he moved in next door to me? They wanted to keep an eye on me, make sure I never talked about what I knew?
My father was right. I signed my death warrant. They’ve been watching me this entire time.
The camcorder weighs down my pocket, knocking against my hips with each of my sways. If he leaves my body in this alley, maybe the police will see it. All showing it to him will do is give him the opportunity to destroy it. He’ll never spare me.
But I’m weak, so I try to use it anyway.
I go to reach for it, but Alik takes both my wrists and pins them on the brick above my head.
I whine through his palm and point my eyes down, my hips jutting toward him so he’ll feel the bulky piece of equipment.
He glances down and lets go of my wrists to pat my hoodie pocket. His head tilts as he pulls the camcorder out and holds it up to study it.
I try to move my head to push his palm away, but he doesn’t budge for several seconds. Watching me carefully, he removes his palm and hovers it inches from my face like he’s ready to slap it over my mouth if I scream.
“You can have it,” I say, breathing heavily. I glance between his palm and his curious eyes while pressing my back against thewall. “Please, take it and let me go. It’s the only piece of evidence I have. I swear to God.”
He flips open the display and plays the one and only recording on the memory card. No sound comes through, but I can tell he’s watching it by the way his eyes squint through the hair that hangs in front of them. His lips purse like he’s deep in concentration.
He didn’t know about it.
My heart racing, I look down the alley and consider making a break for it, but Alik’s eyes nail me to the brick before I get the chance to budge.
“What is this?”
He glances between me and the screen. It’s one thing not to know that I took the video. It’s another for him to not know what it’s of.
“You don’t know?”
He glares at me. “It’s an exchange, but what’s it for, and who is it of?”
I consider questioning him further, stalling his questions, but his glare sobers my curiosity.
“It’s my ex-dealer, Creeper, getting his supply under the overpass.”
“From whom?”
“How do you not know? Isn’t that why you’re here?”