Snapping Point

32.

Exiting the shower, the sudden ring of my phone sent a jolt of fear through my body, causing me to freeze in place. My chest constricted, my heart pounding so fiercely against my ribs that I feared it might trigger a cardiac episode.

Despite Romano's insistence to always answer on the first ring, I found myself unable to move towards the bed where my phone lay.

It was absurd to spend two consecutive days lost in thoughts of a man in the most maddening manner, only to dread a simple phone call from him. The Romano situation seemed as clear as dust.

With the time now past nine p.m., I couldn't help but question whether he had any sense of appropriate timing at all.

"God, God," I muttered, panic coursing through me as I tapped nervously at the dressing table. Standing before the mirror, the phone buzzed insistently in my palms, Urgent's name flashing on the screen. I rehearsed how to respond, my heart yearning to hear his voice yet recoiling at the thought of his demands.

Summoning every ounce of courage, I finally answered the call and waited, the anticipation knotting my stomach.

"The phone almost went unanswered, Xenia," his deep, husky voice greeted me, sending a tremor down my backbone. I gulped down my acidic saliva.

"I'm sorry," I managed to utter, struggling to find my voice. "I was taking a shower."

A brief silence followed his words, during which I could hear nothing but his breathing. Then he spoke again, his voice commanding, "Location in twenty minutes. Don't get caught, don't come empty-handed."

My throat felt constricted, as if my unspoken words were trying to suffocate me. Calculations raced through my mind: there was a good thirty minutes or more between this IP and the old one. I had just gotten out of the shower, so dressing would take at least ten minutes, leaving me with forty minutes. Transportation was limited to a cab, which would take another three to five minutes to locate.

"I, uh, Romano—" I started, but was abruptly cut off.

"You've got nineteen minutes now, nothing more," his voice snapped before the line went dead.

Exhaling a sigh of relief, I couldn't help but feel frustrated by his insensitivity. Did he even have a heart?

Anxiety had drained me of all strength, making movement feel like an uphill battle. Why was I still afraid of him? Hadn't we reached a point of emotional understanding? Good Lord.

The idea crossed my mind: what if I tested Romano by deliberately arriving late? Would he react with violence, similar to what Greg had attempted two evenings ago? As for that despicable bastard, he had surprisingly been pleading for forgiveness since then, while I chose to avoid him like the plague.

I made the conscious decision not to confide in Joe, not because I didn't need her support to feel better and safer, but because I was determined to be my own protector. Carrying a small knife with me since then, I made no attempt to conceal my weapon, sending a clear message to Greg that I would not hesitate to use it if he dared to come within four feet of me.

It had been effective, even though I had been avoiding Greg more than I had been displaying my weapon.

Leaving my knife behind was a deliberate choice, as bringing it to meet Romano would be seen as a bold move. If I knew anything about him, it was that he didn't respond well to threats.

As for what to wear, I was at a loss. After a moment's consideration, I settled on a dress. Dresses were a rarity in my wardrobe due to the men here at IP, but I owned a few. This one was a dark purple lycra with gold trimmings, featuring a short slit that ran from my left knee to mid-thigh. Since it lacked sleeves, I threw on a black leather jacket and completed the ensemble with a pair of black combat boots.