The Lion's Den

Chapter 11

     "I'm gonna need my gun back," Zivon mumbled to me, and I couldn't help but choke out a laugh. It seemed to hitch in my throat, and I ended up coughing. 

     Zivon rubbed circles on my back, calming me. When he pulled away, it left me feeling empty. Like I was Earth, and I had just lost the sun. 

     Handing him back his gun, we began our walk outside. It was like learning to walk again, on wobbling legs.

     Stepping over bodies, I wondered were all the other people had gone. The workers, the dinners. Were they still alive? Doubtful. 

     Maybe it was wrong that the severity of the situation didn't hit me like it should. The blood staining the ground was on the hands of the man I was living with, and even more fucked up I was okay with it. Maybe I was no different from them, but maybe that was okay too.  

     Zivon opened the sleek black car door for me, and I climbed in. He got in the drivers seat, taking off his jacket. He handed it to me, and I covered myself with it. 

     The thick suit material was something I had never felt before. I've never owned cloths like it, nor been around anyone enough to see it. I felt I shouldn't move beneath it, because I might mess it up. 

     I tucked my bare feet up onto the seat next to me, they were getting cold. It reminded me of the day I left the only home I had ever known in hopes of finding safety somewhere, anywhere.

     What I didn't expect was for it to be a someone. 

     We slowed to a stop in in front of the compound, and I realized I had never really seen the outside of it before tonight.

     It was dark out, and the little amount of moonlight made it look eerie. Rightfully so I guess. Tall marble pillars seemed to never end, stretching to the sky. 

     It looked like a 100 windows covered the front, some lit up, others dark. I wondered what beasts lurked in the shadows of the rooms, the monsters that were housed in them.

     I was pulled from my thoughts when Zivon began talking into his phone. 

     "Feliks, kto otvetstvennyy ," Zivon's accent was more prominent when he spoke English, and I loved it. (Who is responsible) 

     I didn't know Feliks, but I wanted to. He made me curious. He was never around, leaving a mysterious aura to him. I get the feeling I will know him someday, but who knows.

     "Net, don't call in the Italians. They owe us more than this," Zivon said after a few seconds of listening in silence. (No)

      "Find them, and tell me when you do," his voice was hellish, tight with what I'm sure was need for revenge. 

     He ended the call, and came to my door to get me. I latched my arms around his neck, forcing him to carry me. I'm to tired for this shit, and I don't care if I appear weak right now. 

     The truth is I am. I am weak. My throat hurts from ghosts of desperate screams, and my heart aches for a dangerous man. I'm in danger of falling, falling into the haven from my pain that is Zivon Stransky. 

     By the time we made it up all the stairs and hallways, I was half asleep. He opened a room door, but it wasn't my own. It was his. 

     He laid me onto his bed, and the dark comforter seemed to engulf me. When my arms unhooked from his neck, he kissed me on the forehead and turned to walk out. 

     "Goodnight, Detka," he said, his voice barley above a whisper. 

     "Stay," I heard my own crackling voice say, sounding far away. 

     He stopped, only turning his head back to look at me. His eyes were bright, even though the room was dark. He hesitated for a moment, before nodding his head slowly and walking back to me. 

     In one swift motion, he pulled his undershirt over his head. My eyes widened, and suddenly I was wide awake. His body was great, I'll just leave it at that. Kinda like a model, but times two. He must have noticed my gawking, because a smug smirk appeared on his face. 

     He crawled under the comforter behind me, a rush of air from the falling of the comforter smelled like him. Mint, but laced with the smell of just him. 

     Suddenly, he pulled me by my waist under the covers, and into his body. The same warmth and protection I had felt earlier. 

     I tried to squirm away from him, I didn't want to wake him up when I started shaking from the nightmares. I didn't get very far, he just pulled me back with a grumble and held me in place.

     I didn't have the energy to fight him, and instead sunk into his broad shoulders. He rested his head on the top of my head. I drifted to sleep, finally at peace. 

     It was odd for me, a feeling I've never been able to hold on to. I have found small pockets of it before, by reading a book or drawing. 

      Peace to me was always something I would find like pockets of air in an aquarium. Something so small, but so valuable. Something I would search for, living on it from breath to breath. Something I could only find by looking on the bottom side of a rock, or locked in submerged tree roots. Trapped, just like me.  

     When I was with him, it felt like I was finally able to break the surface of my aquatic prison. Everything's clear, no voices are muffled, my visions not foggy, and at long last I could breath. 

     So for now, I will sleep. I will sleep until the terrors that wander in my mind show themselves to jolt me awake. 

     And when I awake, fearful and pained, I hope that Zivon is here to pull me back to the surface.