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I felt myself get pulled back down to the only place I’d ever called “home,” and I hated it. I felt nauseous in the way it washeavy inside me, like this other presence trying to take root in my soul.
I was staring out the passenger window when I felt Arlo’s hand cover mine that rested on my thigh. I looked over at him, but he was firmly focused on the street ahead. I wasn’t surprised he’d been able to sense my turbulent emotions. We were connected in a way I’d never understand but was forever grateful for.
He tightened his fingers on my hand, and I lifted my other to place my palm over his, the warmth and strength that poured from Arlo enough to have a semblance of calm washing over me. But even that soothing sensation couldn’t fully extinguish my bone-deep fear of what was happening next.
The broken part of Vegas was like another world on its own with how things worked. It was like Desolation in that sense, with life lost in the deepest parts, swallowed whole and decaying in the underbelly of what used to be a thriving society.
I didn't know how long we drove, but it was done in silence. I looked over at Arlo again, seeing and sensing the change in him the closer we got to wherever our destination was. His body was tighter, his concentration sharper. He had retreated to some hidden part of himself where emotions couldn’t touch, where he was a machine without feeling and only had cold, dead calculation as his compass. I focused out the windshield again, because if I thought about this too hard, I’d have to retreat into myself to get through this.
It was another five minutes before Arlo finally slowed and pulled the BMW into the cracked and uneven parking lot where an old casino sat. It didn’t even look like it was still operating for business, but there was a flickering light above the scarred and faded front door, like a welcome mat for anyone brave—or stupid—enough to enter.
He maneuvered the car toward the back of the building where no light touched before turning around so he faced the street. He cut the engine, and we sat in silence for long seconds as he stared at the back of the casino, both of us plunged into darkness so shapes were distorted and reality didn’t quite look how it should.
“Arlo?” I whispered his name but didn’t know what I was asking him.
“You’ll stay in the car, Galina.” He looked at me then, the first time since we’d left the hotel. He reached over and opened the glove box, a dim light from the small interior breaking up the density of the blackness. He pulled out a gun and held it to me, the barrel facing the windshield. I glanced from the weapon back to him. His silence was loud, his message clear.
Use this if anyone fucks with you.
I reached out and took the gun, our fingers brushing together for a split second before the contact was broken. The weight of the weapon was substantial as I stared down at it, the metal cold but warming the longer I held it. I knew how to shoot, had to learn at a young age. But this weapon was heavy in my palm, bigger than the one I owned, and I felt a light sheen of perspiration cover my forehead.
“Arlo, let’s just go,” I suddenly said and snapped my focus to his face. “I just want you to be safe. Let's go and forget this.” I was rambling, my fear so strong right now I couldn’t control myself. And I felt ashamed over that.Right now I need to be strong. I’d never let fear control me, but at the thought of Arlo getting hurt—or worse—this cold terror encompassed me.
“Moy svet,” he murmured. “You have nothing to be afraid of. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” His jaw tightened. “I won't let anyone take you from me.”
I shook my head because he’d misunderstood me. “I don’t care about me. I can’t loseyou,” I said and was immediatelyembarrassed. I didn't want to cling to what we had, to let it be a weakness, but here I was, begging him to leave with me so there wasn't a threat that he’d be taken from me.
“My sweet Galina,” he whispered and cupped my face as he leaned in and kissed my lips softly, then the tip of my nose, and finally settled on my forehead. I closed my eyes and let the feeling and smell of him surround me until that hard panic started to lessen.
“Not even death can take me from your side.” He pulled back and looked me in the eyes. “Not even death,” he said again, and I nodded, although I wanted to tell him he couldn’t guarantee that. No one was immortal or invincible. No one could predict when or how they died, or stop it. But when Arlo said it with such stony determination and finality in his voice, it was hardnotto believe that if anyone could defy death itself, it was him.
“Tell me you understand.” His voice was hard, as if he expected me to comply no matter what, to believe my words even if they were a lie.
It was hard to breathe, let alone speak, but I managed to say, “Okay. I understand that you’re crazy.” I was the one to lean in and kiss him this time and felt his lips tilt into a smile against mine.
“U nas yest' vsya nasha zhizn', chtoby byt' pravymi.”He pulled back and smoothed a finger over my bottom lip. “We have our entire lives to be together.” And then he was out of the car, the locks engaging, sealing me in, the gun in my hand a reminder that I had to use it. Because although I told him I’d stay in the car, there was no way I was letting him go into that situation alone. There was no way I’d let him get hurt because he was making things safe for me.
With steely reserve, I’d do what I had to, like I’d always done.
I’d fight for my life, and Arlo was now firmly embedded in it.
I’d fight to the death for both of us if need be.
24
Galina
The night seemed colder than it should for this time of year, or maybe it was the worst fear I’d ever felt in my life taking hold.
I’d been standing outside the back door of this broken casino for a long moment, my back against the brick, my breathing so fast and erratic I feared someone passing by would hear.
The sound of music blaring in the distance, the screeching laughter of a woman far too close for comfort, the crash of glass breaking, and an array of other obnoxious noises filtered through the night and tried to pull my concentration in twenty different directions.
The man you love is in there fighting for you. Go in there and stand by his side.
He’d hate it, be pissed at me. But I didn’t care. Not right now, not when doing nothing wasn’t an option.
With one more steadying breath, I pushed away from the wall, drawing up all the calm concentration I could muster, and reached for the back door I’d seen Arlo step through.
