Immigrant girl

Chapter 34. Alex.

I watched as Davis's car disappeared around the corner. What the hell just happened? Did Anya take his hand? Were they meeting after her shift? Waves of furious anger surged within me. Is this some damn joke? Shit!!! Her hand in his, their fingers entwined. I wanted to kill him. I would kill. My hand was already on the handle of my gun tucked behind my belt. I stopped myself at the last moment, afraid I might hurt her too.

I pulled out my phone from my pocket and dialed her number. No answer. Of course! She wouldn't pick up from me. The call ended, and I immediately redialed, four more times. No response. She is so stubborn!!

I called Caleb.

"Yeah?" His voice sounded tired.

"She left with Davis. Do you know anything about this?" I got straight to the point.

"What?!?" Caleb was as surprised as I was, which meant he knew nothing. "What the hell?"

"I'm wondering the same thing." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Contact her, find out everything. She's not answering my calls."

"Okay, I'll call her now. But something tells me she won't pick up from my number either." He sighed in resignation.

"Find her," I disconnected.

Walking back to the car, I could feel the pulse in my veins quickening. The same scene played before my eyes over and over—her taking Davis's hand. Again and again, I saw their fingers touching and intertwining.

Shit! Fuck you, Davis!

I slammed my palm on the car trunk. The security and Max froze in fear. No one dared to move.

I got into the car and slammed the door forcefully.

I pulled out my phone again and typed:

"Anya, what the fuck is happening?"

I doubted she would answer, but I couldn't help but write. Minutes passed. We had already left the club and were heading towards my mansion. Still, there was no reply.

"Please princess, answer to me. I know I have no right to message you, I don't even have the right to look at you. But please, just tell me that you're okay."

"I can't believe you got into his car! Is he threatening you?"

"If he's threatening you, I'll deal with it. Answer these fucking messages! Before I hurt someone!"

I felt like a complete idiot. These unanswered messages were just pathetic. But I couldn't help myself. I continued writing, pouring all my pain into the texts.

"It's all my fault. I know you'll never forgive me. I'm willing to do anything just to touch you again, just feel your smell on my skin again..."

"I love you. I'll never give up on those words. I love every second, minute, day spent with you."

"When I saw you with Davis, I nearly went insane. Tell me you just wanted to hurt me, tell me you have nothing to do with him."

We had arrived at the house. And I was still sending her stupid texts. I couldn't calm down. A tremor ran through me. I got out of the car, and with quick steps, I headed towards the entrance. I told Max he was free until evening. Entering the house, I rushed up the stairs to the second floor, to my bedroom.

Quickly changing into a black tracksuit, I lingered in front of the large mirror. Looking at my reflection, I could barely recognize myself. My face had sunken. I was as pale as death. My eyes were hollow, and my lips had tightened into a thin line. Only my shadow remained about real me. I was even shocked by my appearance. Alex Dovlatov broken and losing control of his life. The Russian Devil turned into nothingness.