“She’s running out of options,” I continue, “which means she’s either losing her support system or she’s running out of resources. You have both, Yaromir.”
“It’s a risky plan, even for her,” Yulian warns.
“Marina is nothing if not bold. Now, head back to the car, I’ll meet you there.”
Yulian fixes me with a questioning look.
“I want to speak to Yaromir alone.”
Yulian gives me a reluctant nod and heads back. I know he won’t like me sending him to the car like some errant child. But I’m not sure that Yaromir will talk freely in Yulian’s presence.
Yaromir waves off the two men standing at his back. They retreat as well, leaving the two of us standing in the thick of heat beside the dilapidated train shed.
“I didn’t realize you had a history with Marina.”
“Not so much as we got older,” he says. “By the time we were teenagers, I tried everything in my power to stay clear of her.”
“What did she do, Yaromir?”
His eyes go blank for a moment, as though he’s trying to ward off a memory he doesn’t want to remember. But when he focuses his eyes on me, I can see the pain he’s still carrying around with him.
“She got off on other people’s pain. She liked watching people suffer. She found a door into the basement and she used to sneak down there to watch her father torture and maim. That started when she was about six. And it became a habit. A weird, twisted kink. She said it made her feel alive.”
Jesus. I kill and maim when I need to, but it is always a means to an end. It is always with reason, with cause. It is never a source of pleasure.
“She used to talk to me. But at some point, she got tired of me.” He looks down as though he’s treaded into territory he never meant to.
“It’s okay, Yaromir. You can tell me.”
He looks at me uncertainly for a moment. Then he throws his arms into the air and swears. “You know what, fuck it. I was not built for this life, Anton,” he says honestly. “Being a fucking Bratva don? I don’t have the stomach for it. I was never meant to be don and I was happy about that. It takes a specific kind of man, a specific kind of personality to do what you do. I just don’t have it.”
More than anything else about Yaromir, I respect his honesty right now. Self-awareness is a rare trait in this world.
“I suppose Marina thought me weak because of it. She started targeting me. It started with tricks and jokes. Then it started to change," he says. “She killed my cat. Wrapped a rope around its neck and hung it from the same tree that held my tire swing. When we got older, she held my head underwater so long that I passed out and came to hours later. And then when we were older…”
He stops short and shakes his head, clearly still haunted by his memories. “She liked mind games. She liked getting in people’s heads. I think she felt powerful seeing the fear in their eyes. She also liked being the center of attention. She hated when the focus was not on her. When I got my first girlfriend, it baffled me that she was angry about it. She had no interest in me, no love, not even affection as far as I could tell."
Oh fuck. I know this side of Marina too well not to see what's coming.
“It shouldn’t have mattered who I was with. But apparently, my indifference was an insult to her. That and the fact that everyone was complimenting Lana. She was a beautiful girl. She had the most amazing red hair…”
I know where this story is headed. I lived it myself under different circumstances. “Did your girlfriend survive?”
Yaromir swallows, his face mired in grief. “She told me that Lana was waiting for me in my room. That she was ready to lose her virginity to me. I went upstairs and pulled back the sheets. That psychotic bitch had slit Lana’s throat. She’d cut off Lana’s hair, too, and stuffed it in her mouth. Still to this day, I tell myself that she did the cutting after Lana was already dead. But I can’t always convince myself of that.”
He looks up at me with haunted eyes that want nothing to do with the world that Marina so naturally belongs to.
“I’m going to kill her, Yaromir,” I growl. “This time, I’m going to do it myself.”
He nods. “Good. Make her hurt.”
“Oh, she’ll hurt. I swear that to you.”
Yaromir nods. “Then you have my full support. Anything you need.”
“I’m going to need you to play a part,” I say. “I’m going to need you to make her believe she’s going to get what she wants from you.”
He shudders at the thought, but nods all the same. “I can do that—if it means she dies by the end of it.”