Page 16 of Lash

We round the corner just in time for a city bus to squeal to a halt at a bus stop. Lash and I board, pay the fare, and sit at the back.

A block later, I glance at Lash. "Now what?"

"For your father's sake, I must free my friends. Solomon is not a patient man and will only tolerate captivity for so long. And believe me, when Solomon Cabot runs out of patience, bad things happen." He sighs, rubbing his face with both hands. "The truth is, I have a feeling Solomon is only here because of me. This worries me. I have a feeling we are only seeing one small aspect of this whole situation."

"Who is this friend of yours, this Solomon?" I ask.

Lash's grin isn't a nice thing. "A ghost. We are all ghosts, Tatiana, me and the men I now consider my brothers."

I consider this for a while, tucking it away with the growing pile of things about Lash that I am trying to process. “And who is Nicolae Dragos?"

He sighs. "That was my name, for a time."

I furrow my brow at him. "For a time?"

A nod and a shrug. "Yes. For a time."

"What does that mean?" I ask.

He doesn't answer right away. "I have had many names in my life. I put them on and take them off like hats. Nicolae Drago is…" he closes his eyes and rests his head backward. "It is the name I wore the longest. I had happiness as Nicolae. The greatest happiness. I also knew the greatest sorrow as Nicolae, as well."

“Will you tell me?" I ask.

He shakes his head, but it does not feel like a refusal. "I would not burden you with such sorrow, Lovely One."

"Yet you carry it alone.” For a moment, I see the exhaustion on his face, the old agony.

It is gone as swiftly as it appeared, and his face is an expressionless mask of stone once more. "It is mine to carry."

"Which stop is ours?" I ask, after a long silence.

Lash, eyes closed, just grunts. "We are resting, not traveling. We cannot be snuck upon while seated in the back of a moving bus."

"Oh," I say. "Smart."

A quick quirk of his lips is his only expression. "This is not my first time being on the run." He opens one eye and regards me. "Close your eyes and rest. When the bus stops, we look to see who boards."

And so we passed the hours, dozing between stops. After we ride the bus long enough that Lash feels somewhat rested, we disembark—despite having ridden for a long time, we hadn't actually gone anywhere, since the buses run in a loop. Instead of asking the question I feel percolating in my brain—now what?—I follow Lash away from the bus stop. We cross the street, cut down an alley, cross another street…this is not aimless wandering. Lash going somewhere specific—following smaller one-way side streets and back alleys, places where it is likely we will be spotted by cameras. We walk for ages, it feels like, block after block until my feet ache and my legs protest. Gradually, I recognize where we are: near Tata's compound.

"Lash, we can't get into my father's compound," I say. "It is too well-guarded and too secure."

Lash just shrugs. “Getting in is easy. Getting out with Solomon and his friends without killing your father's men…that'sthe hard part."

I know the security measures Tata has in place: biometric locks, cameras, laser tripwires, regular patrols. Getting in isnoteasy: that is the entire point of the security, is it not?

But then, Lash doesnotseem like your average person, nor even your average operator. For one thing, what did it mean thathe has had many names, that he takes them off and puts them on like hats? What is the sorrow he carries? What happened between him and my father?

Why did he reject me?

We are short on time, that much is obvious, and reason enough. But it wasn't that. He didn't act tempted and then stop because we didn't have enough time.

He rejected me. Turned me down cold. Literally pushed me off of him and walked away.

I cannot be what you want.What doesthatmean?

I've never been turned down before. It's not a good feeling and I don't know what to do with it.

I don't know what to do with him.