He lets the curtain fall again, raking a hand through his hair and exhaling hard through pursed lips. “I should never have let them get so close to you,” he says suddenly. “Ravil, his men, Adrian—all of them. They got too close. That’s on me. But I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again.”

“You hurt me,” I say forcefully, trying to get a grip even as my voice wobbles over the words.

“I know I did,” he whispers. “I’m sorry for that. And… I’m sorry for this, too.”

Then he takes one giant step forward and hoists me into his arms like I weigh nothing at all. I scream and beat on his back with my clenched fists as he carries me through the laundromat and out onto the street.

“Kolya, what the hell are you doing? Let me go!”

I want to keep swinging, but my arm is screaming in agony right along with me. It steals my breath away after just a moment of exertion. By the time he’s buckling me into the passenger seat of his car, I can barely form a coherent word, much less mount a convincing argument.

I slump against the window in a daze of pain as he drives. We weave chaotically through the deserted streets until we leave the city behind. As we go, I ask myself the same question again and again.

What am I going to do now?

A peel of thunder rattles overhead, and nausea threatens. “Oh God…” I mumble. “I-I think I’m going to be sick.”

Instantly, he pulls the car over and turns to me. “Do you need water or—”

“Unlock the door,” I say, banging on the window. “Unlock the damn door!”

The doors click open an instant later. I shove mine open and stumble out onto the narrow pavement and to the sparse grass beyond it.

I dry heave for a few seconds, before the contents of my lunch finally come up in painful spasms. I drop to my knees, praying that Kolya will wait by the car. I don’t want him to see me this weak.

Of course, that hope is dashed when I feel his shadow engulf me. Then his hands wind in my hair, pulling it back so that I can throw up in peace.

Every dry heave hurts worse than the last. Between the contractions, I try to push Kolya away. “Go… please, go…”

But he doesn’t budge. He just keeps my hair well away from my face, and once I’m done, I become aware of his hand rubbing down my back, too. Soothing. Comforting.

The smell of vomit burns my nostrils, so I try to stand. About halfway up, the world whirls and dissolves and flips on its head, and I’m sure I’m going to bust my skull open on the dry earth.

But before I can fall, he grabs hold of me. “I won’t let you fall,” he murmurs in my ear. I lean on him heavier than I’d like to as he guides me a few feet over. “Lean against this tree. I’ll get you some water.”