Page 12 of Vegas Baby

Every night she falls asleep leaning against me on the couch. And every night I carry her to bed, then say a prayer for her.

On the third night — well, really, the fifth night since she’s been here, the third since I started back at work — as I’m settling her into bed, she stirs.

“I forgot to tell you,” she mumbles, eyes opening halfway. “My physical therapy starts tomorrow.”

I sit down next to her and nod, smoothing the comforter over her. “I know. I’ll be back by three to get you there in time.”

She smiles up at me sleepily. “Thank you, Sebastian, you’re always so thoughtful.” She yawns and rolls onto her side, curling into a ball and falling promptly back to sleep.

I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, stroking down her long tresses. She sighs in her sleep as my hand slips over her shoulder, and something tugs inside my chest. I try to push it down, but it tugs harder.

I realize I’ve become more than just protective of her. My need to know what she plans to do next isn’t just about my concern for her safety. Despite telling myself I’m only helping her because it’s the right thing to do, I can’t deny how good I feel around her. Not because she’s a charity case who makes me feel benevolent. But because of who she is: a strong, clever, and deeply passionate woman with a gift for blunt honesty that knocks me on my ass. And an internal, delicate beauty that when given room, outshines even her stunning exterior.

Unfortunately, the realization changes nothing. Kira has enough on her plate. It wouldn’t be fair to tell her I’m falling for her. Not now.

I lean down and kiss her hair, inhaling the same shampoo scent I use, though it somehow smells better on her. And I leave, saying a prayer at her door before I head back to the couch, where sleep takes a long time to find me.

9

KIRA

I will never get used to waking up to an empty apartment. To being alone all day. To doing nothing. Well, not without my every move being watched, my every choice being questioned. This simple freedom has given me a lot of time to think. It’s all I’ve done while Sebastian is away every day. It’s been exactly what I needed.

Because later today I’ll leave this sanctuary for the first time since I came here. Ready or not, it’s time. And it’s also time to deal with everything I’ve been ignoring.

I breathe deeply, in through my nose and out through my mouth, steadying myself just as I would before a performance. And I turn on my phone. A slew of new messages appears. I read the only one not from Andrei first.

Kira, it’s Lydia, Cliff’s assistant. He’d like to meet with you Wed 2 pm in his office. Please let me know if you can make it. Thanks, hope you’re feeling better.

Heart swelling with gratitude, I immediately reply I’ll be there. And then I check to see how far of a walk it is to The Mirage. My heart sinks when my phone tells me it’s more than three miles. Normally I wouldn’t bat an eye, but even though I am feeling better, I’m not stupid; I’m not better enough for that much exertion. Thankfully, a little more investigation shows a bus line along East Flamingo that cuts the walking down to a manageable amount.

Satisfied, I steel myself as I look at the dozens upon dozens of messages from Andrei. I decide to read the texts first.

While they’re nothing I didn’t expect, my stomach turns to lead as I go through the nearly six-day-long litany of Andrei’s descent into madness.

Horror at watching me fall. Meaning he stayed and watched me fall. And his words imply he didn’t intend to make me fall. But still he ran, like a coward.

Then pleading to know I was alive and okay. As if he cares.

Then when he got no response, anger and threats.

I’m nothing without him.

He owns me.

I owe him.

He’ll find me.

Then regret and apologies.

I’m so sorry.

You’re my everything.

Please just tell me you’re okay.

And back and forth. On and on. The threats getting worse until they’re against my life. Until they’re explicit in all the ways he’d like to hurt me.

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