I used to have a measured life. Until one day I witnessed the dark dealings of the local “mafia”—and, as it turned out, of my former classmates. Hamlet and Bumper quickly got me in their grip, and now my life no longer fits the boundaries of the criminal code. And it would be nothing, if not for the fact that Bumper and I share a past I tried for a long time to forget. So I remind myself again how much I… no, how I hate him! Of course, I hate him! But it’s getting harder and harder to fool myself.
*****
When I returned to the bedroom, I decisively approached the bed. Leaning toward Bumper, I touched his shoulder. And immediately I found myself pinned under his body.
“Crazy woman! I could have killed you, you know.”
“Faster—you’ll strangle me, you’re heavy! Get off me!” I tried to make it sound like I was speeding things up.
But Bumper didn’t hurry.
“Katya,” he said, a little hoarse after sleep, “have you at least sometimes thought that we could…”
“No!” I cut him off sharply, seeing how his gaze grew heavier and how disappointment nearly tangible flickered in it.