The Word of the Forsaken (BoyXBoy)

Chapter Four

I jerk my chin away from Ruslan's hand and duck away from him, putting my back to the mouth of the alley. He stays where I left him, turning to watch me with a leveling gaze as if trying to decide if I'll run away or not. I clutch my backpack to my chest pathetically, having nothing else to defend myself with. This guy knocked out... or maybe even killed, two big men with ease. He could do the same to me if he wanted to. Yet, he stays where he is, watching me in silence with those indecipherable eyes.

I lick my lips, tasting my own blood. "What are you doing here?" I rasp, eventually finding my voice. It's not loud enough over the rumble of thunder, but he hears me anyway, even from his distance.

"I was passing by," He says, unconvincingly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt.

My head pounds, making it hard to think and my eyes won't stop watering. I tear my eyes away from Ruslan's hulking figure in the alley to try and find my bike on the sidewalk and assess the damage done to it in the fall. I glance both ways before emerging from the alleyway in search of it, finding it on the ground beneath a streetlight. As I look down at it, blood drips onto the sidewalk at my feet, mingling with the rain.

I can hear Ruslan come up behind me, but he doesn't say anything, just looks over my shoulder to see what decision I'll make. Will I run away? Or will I stay and find out what this was about? My hands sting as I crouch down to look at the wheel, cursing when I see how bent it is. I sigh and pick it up, shaking at the pain it brings my raw palms and biting my lip against it. "My bike is fucked," I mumble, not sure if anyone is even listening.

Ruslan's voice answers my silent question, coming from behind my shoulder. "Throw it in the dumpster then," It seems like he has a simple answer for everything. "Or leave it."

My hands throb in protest, but I wheel the broken bicycle to the alleyway and lean it against the wall, pushing the kickstand out to prevent it from falling over. My eyes find the two bodies in the shadows again, lying motionless. I swallow thickly, tasting copper. "Are they dead?"

Ruslan is behind me again, his lion head mask still pushed up to expose his face. Why does he wear that anyway? He didn't have it on before. And how did these bikers recognize him with it on, but didn't notice him in the bar without it? His eyes are like flashes of silver backlit by the street light. "Would you like them to be?"

I turn back to the bodies and shake my head slowly. "No," I sling my bag over my shoulder, wincing at the pain in my back. Ruslan follows me as I walk down the street, no longer bothered by the pouring rain on my face. I only stop once I get back to the bar and dig through my bag to find the key, hoping that it isn't still laying in the alleyway somewhere. My fingers brush the keys and I bring them out, my hands still shaking so violently that it takes me a minute to find the lock. I push the door open and hear the alarm beep the warning to enter the code before it starts blaring, waking the whole block.

I hold a hand out to Ruslan, asking him to stay where he is so I can enter the code without him seeing. He may have just saved my ass, but I still don't know him and I'm not about to risk my job by letting him see the alarm code. He's surprisingly patient and waits beneath the awning for my signal to let him come in. I set my ruined phone and soaking wet bag on one of the stools at the bar, rounding the counter for a rag to press against my nose so I don't bleed all over the store I just cleaned.

I hold the disposable towel against my nose and grab a bottle of whiskey from the shelf before heading to the employee lounge, trusting Ruslan to follow. Even if he doesn't I guess it doesn't matter. He doesn't owe me anything, especially after saving my ass from being robbed and raped by a couple of fat guys in an alley. I push through the door, hearing footsteps follow me inside as I look for the first aid kit that we keep in the office.