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The thought of being alone with him now, facing the coldness in his eyes and the violence I know he's capable of, is too much.
I walk away. He lets me.
"Where are you going?" he demands in a harsh whisper.
"Where you tell me," I snap back, anger flaring. “Do I have any choice in the matter?”
“No, that’s not up for discussion. You're staying with me."
"And if I don't want to?" I challenge, watching hurt briefly flicker in his eyes before it's replaced with anger. "Dammit, Renata. Can't you see I'm trying to keep you safe?" His voice lowers to a rough whisper, his frustration obvious. "Why can't you see that?"
"I can, but I'm under no illusion that I'm safefromyou, Ollie." The words slip out before I can stop them, hanging in the air likea death knell. He recoils as if struck. Maybe I have finally struck a chord in him because for the first time ever I see pain in his eyes, buried beneath layers of anger and cold calculation.
"I don’t want to stay here," I whisper, my voice breaking. "Not with you like this."
"Like what?" he asks, his voice a dangerous edge of darkness.
I don’t answer.
We walk in silence, and I wonder if he's too far gone—too deeply entrenched in his role as the cold commander to ever turn back.
When we reach the room, he opens the door, steps inside, and yanks me in after him. He slams it shut and presses me against it, capturing my lips in a fierce, desperate kiss. My body betrays me, going boneless as I melt under the heat of his touch, and I hate myself for it.
He kisses me like today is the only day we have to live, like there's no promise of tomorrow. He kisses me as if he's begging for forgiveness for being who he is. He kisses me as if he loves me, and it shatters my heart in two.
"Just because we haven't found any fucking sign of Carlos doesn't mean we're safe," he murmurs against my lips, his voice strained.
"Will we ever be?" I ask, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.
"Of course we will," he says, but I hear the lie beneath the bravado even though I don’t want to.
No, we’ll never be safe. There will always be something threatening us. We’ll always have to be on alert, and I hate it. Iwant to run. I want to get away from here. And if I didn’t think that was the weakest possible response, I would have.
"Renata," he says, his tone softening, becoming tender again. I don’t want him to be this way—it’s so much harder to resist when he is like this.
Why do I even try to resist him?
I’ve spent my life protecting myself from vulnerability. I’ve had to. I would never have gotten this far if I didn’t. I don’t know how to manage this.
"Talk to me.”
“I don’t know, Ollie. I’m afraid. And it’s not just Carlos."
He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. "I don’t know a way forward. I don’t know how to show you not to fear me.” He shakes his head. “I can’t fucking help who I am.”
“I know!" I cry, my voice breaking. "Don’t you understand that I know that? But I can’t just wave a magic wand and become somebody else."
"Neither can I!" he snaps back.
It’s a fair point, and I know it. I try to draw back, to lean into being an adult instead of a headstrong child. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
Finally, he blows out a breath. "Aleks said you all needed food, water, and rest."
"So doyou."
"I can’t sleep, knowing he’s out there, knowing he’s coming after you!"
I shake my head. "You’ll have to. What are you going to do—run on fumes for five days? Ten days? A month, whatever it takes?"
