But Gabe showed me another world. There’s always been another universe sitting right next to the one I've been trapped in. There are no horizons, no limits, nothing holding me back except for my own fear, and it’s like when I slept with him, a chunk of that terror was washed away.
I don’t have to keep myself locked away anymore.
Gabe wants more. His dreams are massive, they’re gargantuan, they’re as big as dreams can be, but they’re more than ideas. He’s trying to make them a reality.
I want that too. I want to be big, enormous, impossibly large. I want to stomp around the world like a dragon, spouting fire, burning forests.
I need Gabe to keep showing me how.
And if I lose him now?
I feel like a part of me will always be small, no matter how hard I try.
Besides, we still have a deal. He’s going to help find my mother. Without him, I think she’ll stay disappeared forever, and I can’t stand the idea of never at least knowing who she was.
Gabe keeps his promises. He has to come back to me.
I distract myself with crappy TV. The guards out front bring me some coffee when I ask, but otherwise tell me to stay locked down. “He’ll be back soon, miss, I’m sure of it.” Ilya offers me a small smile, a young man with dark hair and kind eyes. Sometimes I’m shocked that half Gabe’s soldiers are my age, and already hardened criminals.
What the hell have I been doing with my life?
I take a long, hot shower, and when I get out there are weird noises outside. I dry off, get dressed, and start thinking about doing my hair when the noise gets louder like someone’s lighting off fireworks in the parking lot. But why the hell would someone do that here?
I peer out the window, getting on my toes to get a better view through the metal railing?—
There’s a man. He’s wearing all black. He’s tall, bulky, and there’s a ski mask pulled over his face. He’s holding a weapon, a gun, and he’s shooting it straight ahead at someone I can’t see. My mouth falls open and I try to make sense of it?—
This can’t be happening. There’s no way.
But he’s shooting, and there are more explosions nearby, and I realize those aren’t fireworks.
The motel is under attack.
I scream as the door flexes. Someone smashes into it, pounding from the outside, until the lock clicks. I leap, thinking I’ll be able to hold it closed, but I’m too slow. It bashes open and I slam straight into Ilya.
“Shit,” he grunts, hitting the frame of the door. He grabs me by the arm and shoves me back inside. “Miss, stay low.”
“What’s going on?!”
His eyes are grim. Blood’s splattered across his chest. He’s bleeding from a wound on his arm. “Attackers. Not sure who. I called your husband.”
“Where’s Gabe?!”
“He’s coming.” But Ilya doesn’t sound sure of himself. “Come, we have to go. I will get you out.”
“How?! It sounds like they’re everywhere.”
“Trust me. Please, follow, and stay low. Run when I tell you to run. Do you understand?”
“Please, can we stay here? Wait for Gabe? He’ll come for me.”
Ilya seizes my arm and holds my gaze. “If you stay in this room, you will die. We’re going now. Ready?”
I grab shoes and shove them on. When I’m done, Ilya drags me out onto the balcony and starts running, pushing me ahead of him, tugging on my arm to keep me down low. He shoots over the railing a few times and I risk a look to my right.
There are at least ten men down in the parking lot. Half of them shoot at us wildly. Half are shooting at what’s left of my husband’s security detail. I scream as bullets ping around the railing, just missing my head. Someone shouts in Russian down below, but I can’t understand him. My ears are ringing and I feel like I’m going to be sick with terror.
This can’t be happening. This really can’t be happening. But Ilya shoves me forward, snarling for me to keep running. I sprint ahead, angling toward the corner of the building and barely make it. I careen, hit the railing, almost topple over. Ilya grabsmy wrist and rights me, and together we’re running down the stairs toward the back of the building.
