Page 47 of Sexting the Pakhan

Relief hits so hard my shoulders sag.

Me:Thank you.

Karina:I hate this.

Me:Me too.

Karina:Are you sure you’re not hurt?

I look down at the red marks on my wrist again.

Me:I’m shaken. But okay.

Karina:Who got you out?

My breath catches.

There it is again. The question I cannot answer.

I type and delete four different replies.

A man.

A patron.

Someone dangerous.

Someone I thought I knew.

None of them are right. All of them are too much.

Me:I can’t tell you yet.

Karina:Because you don’t know?

I close my eyes.

Me:Because I know enough to be scared.

Karina doesn’t answer right away. When she does, the message is quieter somehow, even in text.

Karina:Okay. Then I’m scared too.

I press the phone to my chest for a second and breathe through the sudden sting in my eyes.

Across the room, Ruslan says, “She agreed?”

I nod without looking at him. “She’s going to a café.”

“Good.”

I glare at him through wet eyes. “Stop saying that.”

He says nothing.

My phone buzzes again.

Karina:Text me every fifteen minutes. If you miss one, I call everyone. Police. Your mother. The governor. God. Whoever picks up first.