Young Writers Society

Sasha Volkov
Inmate

I stared at the child, then at Miranda, and then at the child again. Luca was looking at me with a bored expression on his face, and I could tell that he expected me to accept this kid into my home without question. I could see a few of my people standing the streets or at their windows, eying my door curiously. Cursing under my breath, I shoved them all inside and slammed the door shut before dragging Luca into my bedroom.

"Why Sasha," he said coyly, "I had no idea you felt this way about me."

I couldn't help myself. I punched his smug little face.

"What the hell are you thinking Luca?!? Does my house look like a boarding school to you?"

He coughed and spluttered as blood flowed freely from his nose. I held in a chuckle, slightly pleased that I had broken it.

"I was thinking," he said stuffily as he wiped the blood from his mouth, "that you would help me."

"It is hard enough to do what I do without having a kid underfoot!" I shrieked.

"Look," Luca tried to placate me, "All I'm asking is that you look after him for a little while. Geez, Ruskie, it's not like I'm asking you to be his mother."

I stared at him wonderingly. He met my gaze for a few minutes, then let out an uncomfortable shrug.

"What?" he asked warily.

"I can't believe what I am hearing. The Death Child actually caring about someone."

His face grew red with anger, "I do not!"

I laughed at his reaction. "If you don't care, then why are you getting so defensive?"

"Look," he told me heatedly as he moved to sit on my bed, "You and I both know that we are Anarchy." I had to stifle a gasp. "That why that woman is here with you. That's why the kid is with me. But I can't keep him at my place, so I am asking you to keep him at yours."

The silence that followed his words was deafening, and I sat heavily next to him on the bed as the weight of what we were doing fell down on me.

"If we're caught," I whispered, "We're dead. Worse than dead."

He nodded. "Yes, but we have worse problems than that right now."

I looked at him curiously. "What are you talking about?"

"Logan."

The curses I let out in Russian would have turned my grandmother's hair grey, if she had been there to hear them that is.

"She wants to play more and more. Soon, there won't be any Innocents left for her games. And then, knowing her, she won't be able to last until the next shipment comes. She'll turn on our people, Sasha. She'll turn to the Inmates to play."

"I know."

"So you'll take him then?"

I sighed. "Yes. Leave him here for now."

"Thank you, Sasha."

Luca took my hand in his and squeezed it for a brief moment, before letting it go and standing up to leave. I stopped him.

"Luca!"

He turned back to me with an inquisitive look on his face.

"No more, you understand?" My voice was firm. "Just the boy. I mean it."

He smirked maddeningly at me. "We'll see about that." he said as he walked through the door.

I couldn't help myself. I threw a shoe at him. It missed.