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I nod. “It felt so freeing, riding around in the backseat with the top down and the wind in my face.” I chance a glance at Cian, who’s looking down at this phone. Good—if he’s not concentrating, this is going to be a whole lot easier.
“It used to be my favorite way of getting around… until I took the train.”
“The train, huh?” Liza nods as if she understands.
“Yup. We used to ride the Red Line to see our grandmother every other weekend.”
“Must have been fun.”
“It was fun. Until the train stopped coming.” I flare my eyes, hoping she picks up on that. “A track without a train doesn’t make sense, don’t you think? So we had to switch to the Blue?—”
“Are you done with that?” Cian spits suddenly, looking up from his phone.
“Um, just another sec?—”
“No, we’re done,” Cian barks. “Tape some gauze down and let’s go, Alison.”
Shit. Liza’s forced to release me and the moment the IV’s not connected anymore, Cian grabs my arm and yanks me off the table.
“Cian! What the?—”
“Silent,” he snarls so fiercely that my jaw snaps shut. He pulls me through the hospital and I trip along after him, panic rising to my throat like vomit. When we get to his car, he shoves me inside roughly and rushes to the driver’s seat.
The moment the doors are locked, he starts reversing out of his parking space. “Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?” he barks. “‘A track without a train’? Did you really think I wouldn’t get that?”
I cringe against the venom in his voice. I’ve fucked up royally. Now, not only have I screwed up any chance I have of being rescued, but I’ve also gone and pissed off my captor. I’m not so sure the semi-humane treatment I’ve received these past few weeks is going to continue after this.
With only one hand on the wheel, he rips out of the hospital parking lot and dials in someone. “Change of plan. We’re not coming back to the safehouse. Meet me at the backup location. Take the remaining men with you.”
No. No. No!
“Cian—”
“Do you even realize what you’ve done?” he roars, pulling us onto the road. “I’ve been the only one keeping him from killing you! Now, I’m not sure it’ll be?—”
“Cian!” I scream, seeing the truck coming at us from the side. “Watch ou?—”
My body constricts around my belly as the massive beast of a vehicle slams right into us. The scream lodges in my throat as the world explodes. I feel the crush of wind and pressure and glass and fear.
And then it feels like I’m falling.
5
DMITRI
FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLIER
I’ve spent the last few weeks sleeping in the studio.
I use the term “sleeping” loosely. A couple dozen hours in a couple dozen days doesn’t do much to make a man feel well-rested. Every time I wake up, I’m caught between two different realities.
There are days when I wake up expecting to find Elena sleeping beside me. And then there are the days I wake up searching for Wren. It’s fucked-up. So is my head, churning between the past and the present, reminding me constantly of all my failures, of all the women in my life I’ve let down.
It started with my mother, a woman I haven’t thought about in years. But I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately. Probably because she kicks off the list of female relationships that have fallen to pieces in my hands.
I don’t remember many details about her. I have no pictures to look back on, no visuals to hold onto. But I do remember that she had dark hair like Aleksandr and me. Sharp features made her look older than she was. She had a cleft in her chin and eyes that disappeared when she smiled.
I remember that she used to take Aleksandr on piggyback rides around the garden and when she tucked us into bed, she’d make up stories about a woman who fell in love with the moon.
