Page 60 of The Bratva’s Monster

“What’s going on?” I ask him.

“Not now.”

He walks me around to the walk and up the stairs to the second floor, past three doors to a room near the center. He unlocks the door and opens it, letting me in. When I look back at him, I see he’s looking the other way, his hand on his gun.

“Rikki—”

He hands me a gun and says, “I’m going to ditch the car and take care of a couple of things. If I’m not back in an hour, go to the front desk clerk and tell them you need to go out for ice. Tell that to them just like that. Repeat it.”

I blink dumbly, then will myself to speak. “I-I need to go out for ice.”

“Good. Don’t forget that. It’s important. Once you say that, they’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“W-Wait,” I stammer. “Wherever⁠—”

“Choose somewhere far and don’t come back. Not even for me,” he says. He looks me over briefly, then says, “Keep the door locked and don’t answer it for anybody. We clear?”

I nod quickly. A second passes between us, and he steps in and grabs me around the waist with one arm, pulling me into a kiss. I fall into the familiarity of his touch, the taste of his lips, and everything just falls away around us.

When our lips part, he whispers, “We’ll talk when I get back.”

And then he’s gone, closing the door behind him. I lock the door and step back from the door. It’s a minute before I realize I’m standing here with his gun in my hands.

I look down it at and it feels like a ten-pound weight. The last time I fired a gun was when I was a teenager. A thoughtless adventure with my friends out in the country… Someone brought their father’s gun to shoot bottles with. I was a terrible shot.

I walk over to the single bed in the room and set it down on the nightstand. All I can think about is what he said to do if he didn’t come back.

Go to the front desk clerk and tell them you need to go for ice… Choose somewhere far…

My father is my first thought, where I’d decided to run if it came down to it.

I really hope that he comes back. I rub my belly, thinking about this baby.

“Come back, Rikki,” I say to myself. “Please come back.”

I’m startled awake by the sound of the door opening. Without thinking, I reach for the gun on the nightstand as the blue light of the hotel parking lot comes into the room.

“Liz, it’s all right. It’s me.”

I hear him before my brain fully registers the large silhouette blocking out most of the light. He flips a switch and the lights come on, blinding me for a moment as he closes the door behind him.

The second I see his face, the tears come. I don’t know how long it’s been since he left. About twenty minutes in, I took a shower and put on my nightgown—taking the gun into the bathroom with me while I listened out for the door. Then I lay in bed and watched the light coming in from under the door, waiting for him…

Now he’s here and I can’t stop myself from crying. I cover my mouth to hold back a sob as he walks over to the bed and sits down.

“Hey, hey,” he says. “It’s all right. I’m here. We’re okay.”

I nod and swallow down the last sob, wiping my tears with the heels of my hand. “Sorry,” I say to him. “I’m just… Fucking hormones.”

A small hint of a smile turns up at the corner of his mouth, but it disappears just as quickly as it came. His hair is shining with water and his jacket is stained dark around his shoulders. That’s when I notice the sound of the storm happening just outside.

“Where did you go?” I ask him. “What, what happened tonight that you had to come and, and get me⁠—”

“We got hit again,” he tells me as he gets up and takes off his jacket, then starts undoing the buttons on his shirt. “A convoy. We got word about the ambush ahead of time, though, so I had to— Fuck.”

As he pulls the shirt off, he winces and slows down. His ribs are alight with angry red and blue bruising and the lower half of his chest is red with blood from the dark hole of a bullet wound in his side.

“You’re hurt.” I get out of bed and rush to the bathroom for towels.