Page 212 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

“Artem?” she says uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” I assure her. “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay?” she repeats uncertainly.

“You were just having a nightmare,” I explain. “It was a nightmare.”

She shakes her head as a shiver runs over her body. “No, it wasn’t.”

I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t.

Instead, she sighs deeply and collapses against her seat as she looks out onto the road.

“Oh, wow,” she says. “It’s dark already.”

“We’re almost at Joshua Tree.”

She nods absentmindedly. “Okay.”

“I can find us a place to stay once we arrive.”

She shakes her head. “Why don’t we just camp out in the car?” she suggests.

“Here?”

I twist in my seat and look around. The model of the car allows for the back seats to be folded forward if necessary. Which would give enough space for the two of us to sleep through the night.

“We can, if you’re comfortable with it,” I nod.

She looks ahead, her eyes hazy with memory as she wraps her arms around her body. I pull the car back onto the road and we keep driving until we hit a patch of open desert that’s dotted with twisted Joshua trees that have an austere beauty to them.

The sky is mottled with swirling greys and silvers. Only small patches of inky white clouds come through where the last of the setting sun is receding.

The desert’s rugged rock formations and bristled cacti weave in and out of the landscape. Everything looks craggy, primitive. And utterly empty.

Esme sits up a little straighter, taking it all in just like I am.

I find a clear patch of desert and park. There’s no coverage, nothing to block our view of the sky above.

The thick crescent moon hangs high above us. The only lantern in an otherwise dark sky.

The moment I park, Esme gets out and walks towards one of the Joshua trees a few feet away from the vehicle. She’s still got her arms wrapped around her body, as though she’s trying to keep herself from falling apart.

I watch her from a distance. Unsure of my place. Unsure of what she needs from me.

I decide to give her some space.

I turn to the vehicle and open up the trunk so that I can fold in the back seat. To my amazement, I find a thin air mattress under the seat, along with a pump.

I get to work blowing it up. It takes me ten minutes to get everything set up, but once I’m finished, the trunk of the car actually looks pretty cozy. I dress it up with a blanket we bought from the mall.

Only then do I allow myself to look back at Esme.

She’s still standing by the same tree, but she’s looking up towards the sky. Her dark hair pours around her face, flowing over her slight shoulders.

She looks like a fucking dream, a wild girl out amongst all this wilderness.

The desire to touch her, smell her, taste her drives me over there.

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