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“Don’t give us reason to shoot.”
Slowly, oh so slowly, I lift my hands in surrender. My fingers are trembling out of control, and tears stream down my face. Willow starts crying again, and now, I’m grateful she has that rabbit to hug.
One of Demyen’s men steps in front of me, lowering his gun when he sees I’m not about to run.
I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’m too terrified to move.
He holsters it and nods to the other men. I can’t see how many there are, but by the sounds of them lowering and then holstering their own guns, at least four or five surround us. “We need to get you back to the house, ma’am,” he explains gruffly.
The mother in me is struck by how gentle he’s being. I know why he is—because his eyes keep flicking down to check on Willow. She only stares up at him, half-hidden by her stuffed animal, her sobs fading into hiccups again.
“Please,” he adds. “For your kid.”
I’mdoing this for my kid. That’s the whole point.
But I nod.
He holds a hand out. “I’m going to need to take your phone as well.”
I just stare at his hand for a moment. Then back up to just below his face. I can’t quite look him in the eyes; I’m starting to feel the same fear I had whenever Martin demanded something from me.
“I… I don’t have a phone,” I mutter.
The guard frowns. “Everyone has a phone.”
I shake my head. Grab Willow’s hand again. Take only a half a step back, enough to put distance between us but not enough to make them draw their guns again. The men do move to do exactly that, but he holds a hand up low with a quick nod and they back off.
I still can’t meet his gaze. “Not me. I… I don’t have a phone. He won’t let me have a phone.”
Willow peers up at me over her rabbit’s floppy ears, and my tears flow again. I’m back there—in my head, I’m back there. I’m back in that house, in that kitchen with peeling linoleum floors, staring at the worn pattern while Martin berates me for doing something stupid. While he demands money from me that I don’t have. While he questions every little thing I do and reminds me how lucky I am that he’s wasting his time on me.
The guard’s warm, strong hand rests on my shoulder.
I jump.
“Hey… hey.” His voice is low, soft. “It’s okay. Let’s get back to the house. You’ll be safe there.”
He doesn’t know.
But neither does Willow. And she’s been terrified enough tonight.
So I give in and nod. He squeezes my shoulder and turns me around. I’m forced to look at the beautiful prison with the glowing lights and exotic flowers that’s coming closer and closer with every step I take.
The guard scoops Willow up in his arms. Instead of the fear I expect from her, she nuzzles into him just like she did with Demyen. From the way he softly coos at her and makes her smile through her drying tears, I wonder if he has children of his own.
It’s so wrong—how someone can be so gentle and so violent at the same damn time.
We’re flanked by the other guards all the way into the house. They walk with us down the hall into the guest wing and only leave when the main guy gives them a nod. He moves to take Willow into her room, but I stop him.
“I want her in mine… if?—”
“Of course.”
The way he gently sets her down on my bed, flicks the tip of her nose with his finger… I wish so much this was all under different circumstances. Any other time, any other place, this could be our home. Our people.
But it’s not.
He meets me at the door. “You need to stay here,” he says, keeping his voice low. “It’s nothing personal.” He glances over his shoulder at Willow, offering her a quick little smile. “She’s a good kid. And it’s a large desert. Understood?”
