Page 39 of Twisted Little Game

Still not going to tell me why we’re here?

He doesn’t respond.

After a few minutes, I start to hear fragments of a conversation floating through the air, through the open window of the car. At first, I can’t make out much, and I realize that Roman and his cousins must be talking with one another in the backyard.

Then I see two figures at the side of the yard. They’re far back, tucked behind a hedge.

Two short men.

And I get curious.

I quietly open the passenger side door, stepping out. I let the car door gently close, leaving it open a crack so that it doesn’t slam shut.

I tiptoe forward, ducking so that I’m hidden by trees and hedges in the front driveway, and step closer to the side of the lawn.

I can hear the whole conversation clearly now.

“You like it up there?” Roman’s asking someone.

I peek past the leaves, seeing that there are actually five men there. Roman and two men who resemble him, probably his cousins. Then there are the two other, shorter men. One of them is bald, the other has close-cropped red hair.

One of the short guys is nodding at Roman. “I like it. Like my own place in the city much better, though.”

“Then I’m sure this isn’t your favorite place, either,” Roman says.

“I’ve enjoyed it so far,” the short guy says. “Just got into town about an hour ago.”

Suddenly, their conversation falls silent.

Pin-drop silent.

I don’t understand why.

But I see Roman exchange a glance with one of his cousins, while the other cousin gets a crazed look in his eyes.

“Is that right, John?” Roman says. “Because Noreen at Capp’s Diner says she saw you here, at six o’clock this morning. That doesn’t make it sound like you got here an hour ago.”

The air falls silent again, but this time it feels deafening.

I shift on my feet, a twig snapping under my shoe, and I wince, hoping no one heard it.

But none of the guys are moving an inch.

My heart stops when I see one of Roman’s cousins hold out a gleaming silver gun, pointing it straight at the bald man.

“Who the fuck were you meeting with in town, liar?” he says.

The other guy glares at him. “Get that out of my face.”

“Gentleman, we’re only here to talk,” the redheaded guy insists.

“We’re done talking,” Roman tells them. “Answer Yegor’s question. Now.”

“Fuck you,” the bald guy says, spitting on the ground. “I’ll never rat.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Roman’s cousin Yegor shouts louder now, taking a step forward and jamming the barrel of his gun onto the guy’s head.

My heart slams harder in my chest, adrenaline surging through my veins.