Page 63 of Marek

“You just about lost your life tonight. Can’t you see that with me in your world, you’ll never be safe?”

I pause because I don’t have a valid response for that.

Remembering the cold, steel gun against my temple and how I felt in that one moment, thinking it would be my last, is not something I ever want to experience again. Yet, the thought of going back to life without Marek, without this show...it feels empty and meaningless. Do I have it in me to live with the risk of what happened tonight, happening again?

Marek exposes the wound on my head by cleaning around it, and then he leans in close, inspecting it.

“This needs to be stitched.”

I frown. “Oh.”

“I’ll drive you into the hospital. You need to get looked at.”

“But...”

“It’s not negotiable,” he murmurs, pushing to his feet and grabbing a coat, handing it to me. “Let’s go.”

My heart sinks, but I follow him out of the RV and to his truck.

I climb in and wait for him to give instruction to the men outside, then, he gets in with me.

He doesn’t say a word the entire drive over, and even though I have so much I want to say, nothing comes out.

It’s as if I have taken a step closer to Marek’s heart, and yet I’ve never felt so far away.

IT’S A LONG WAIT ATthe hospital, but eventually, I’m seen to, and my head is stitched up. They check me over for a concussion, and because of the pounding headache I have, they ask me to stay for a few hours just to be certain it’s safe for me to leave. Marek leaves, telling me he’ll be back and that he’s just going to get some things to keep me comfortable.

I can do nothing to stop him.

Something feels off.

Wrong.

Broken.

By the time the hospital releases me, I am ready for sleep.

I expect Marek to come in and get me, but when I see Bonnie, I frown. I glance past her, as if that will change the fact that she’s here alone, but it doesn’t. Marek isn’t with her, and she’s got an expression on her face that I don’t like. It’s an expression that has my heart clenching in my chest because even before I ask, I know what she’s going to say.

“Where is Marek,” I whisper, holding her eyes.

“I’m sorry, honey. He’s gone.”

I shake my head, as if that will change anything she’s saying.

“What do you mean, gone?” I press a hand to my chest, my heart pounding against my palm.

“He left. He didn’t say where. The crew is packing up. He made sure one of us came to get you.”

No.

This must be a mistake.

“Bonnie,” I go to say, but it comes out as a whimper.

“I’m so sorry, honey.”

She steps forward, wrapping her arms around me, and I fall into her. The hurt, shock, and pain from the last twenty-four hours washes over me and I begin to sob. I’m so tired of crying, and yet it doesn’t seem to matter what I do, I can’t make it stop. I’ve felt pain in my life, but nothing like this. This is pure, raw, unfiltered hurt. Something I know is going to take me a very long time to get over.

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