Chapter 16

POV ALEJANDRA ZAVALA

It was a tiring trip. Not only because it was long, but because we made several stops and layovers. At each one, we spent only one night before catching another flight. A week like that, but it was a getaway strategy.

The final destination was Chicago. I had no idea why, because Ilya wasn’t telling me much. In fact, since his brother’s visit to the cabin, he had become even more quiet and pensive.

I couldn’t understand anything from the conversation, because they spoke in Russian. There was no fighting, shouting, and the tone – although it’s a very strong language – was one of respect and almost... tenderness. If men that big could be considered like that.

They were both hurt. Deeply. And I knew that was the reason for all the fighting.

Using fake names, we stopped at the car rental place after leaving the airport, and Ilya started driving without saying a word about our destination.

He wore a cap and sunglasses, and dark country music played on the radio, filling the silence. But I was completely uncomfortable.

Tired from the trip, I could have just slept and woken up when we arrived at wherever he was taking us. The problem was that I cared too much about him to not worry about what was happening.

“Are you okay?” I asked, with the feeling that I would be rejected, even though I knew he wasn’t like that.

“I don’t know,” he replied. It wasn’t a rude answer. On the contrary, he seemed to let it out as a sigh.

“It’s been five days since we’ve been traveling, and we still haven’t stopped to talk. Do you want to do that?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, and I almost rolled my eyes.

“I guess I need to know some things, right? At least where we’re going.”

“Stone Haven, in Illinois. We’ll get there in about two hours.”

I nodded. It was a start.

“Why there?”

“I have friends.”

Again, I shook my head, signaling that I understood.

“Are they going to help us?”

“They’re going to hide us,” he corrected. “They’re good people.”

I hoped they were, indeed. But if Ilya trusted them, it was a good start.

The trip was smooth, and we watched the sunset on the road. I managed to doze off for a few moments, but very little because we arrived soon after, and Ilya opened the door for me.

He grabbed our backpacks from the trunk and placed them on his shoulder. There were three, reasonably heavy, but he could handle them, carrying me – if needed – with all those muscles. A bear, indeed.

Since I was asleep, I hadn’t noticed before, but we entered a kind of gated community. All the houses were the same, except one at the end of the street, which was a real mansion.

None of the houses were small, actually; all had two floors, some had a third – probably an attic – and the façade was made of a white fence and garden. A little porch with a hammock, wicker sofas, and a homely atmosphere.

Something I hadn’t seen in a long time. Something I hadn’t felt.

“Your Russian son of a bitch!” I looked startled in the direction of the voice, which was speaking in English, but the person coming toward us was smiling from ear to ear, looking very happy to see Ilya.

The two embraced in a very masculine hug, and the guy who appeared out of nowhere was lifted off the ground by Ilya.

“Man, I’ve missed you so much!” the unknown man repeated.

“I missed you too, Hun! So good to see you!”

They pulled away, and it was clear how much they liked each other, in a relationship more fraternal than Ilya had with his brother, apparently.

“Ah, so this is the señorita?” he asked as soon as he saw me. “Hunter Phoenix.” He extended his hand, still smiling.

Since I left the captivity where I lived, this Hunter Phoenix was the kindest man who dealt with me. Ilya was gentle and protective, but he hardly smiled like that, as if his whole soul was in his eyes.

I noticed some things about Hunter. Some more obvious, like how big he was – just five centimeters shorter than Ilya and super muscular as well. He had long brown hair. There was a gap in his eyebrow, which looked like a white and discreet scar. Full of tattoos, one stood out as it covered much of his forearm, almost like a tribal bracelet.

On his finger was a steel ring, with a skull carved on a square stone.

I accepted the handshake and gave a discreet smile.

“Alejandra Zavala. Nice to meet you.”

“We want you to feel comfortable here. Ilya knows he’s among family, and we’ll take care of you like one of our own.”

I looked around and still didn’t understand the concept of “one of our own,” but they seemed like a community. Big gates closed off the neighborhood, and two men were guarding the only entrance, but children played in an area that was like a little park, and other people also walked around without much worry.

I heard the rumble of some motorcycles in the distance, and people were loud, in the best sense. My heart turned inside my chest with a good feeling, one I hadn’t allowed myself to have in a long time.

Ilya and Hunter talked a little more, but my protective bear soon came to me, grabbing the backpacks from the ground and showing me a key.

He opened the door to the house where we would be staying and invited me inside.

“Welcome to your home for an indefinite time.”

It wasn’t a roadside motel. It wasn’t a secluded cabin in the middle of the snow. Most of all, it wasn’t a dark room where the door was always locked, and the window had bars.

It was a cozy house, with a well-maintained garden and a living room with a plush rug. A sofa with a colorful blanket, a wooden dining table with four chairs. The kitchen was spacious and equipped, with a huge window behind the stove.

It was warm, it smelled like home, like the only home I had known when I was still just a little girl. Without even understanding why, my eyes teared up, and I made a huge effort not to let Ilya notice.

“It’s not a five-star hotel yet, but it’s decent, clean, and safe.”

Five-star hotel? Who needed that?

“I could live here forever and still barely step foot in the house,” I replied with complete sincerity. My voice faltered a little, but I didn’t care. Ilya could think whatever he wanted; maybe I was just a silly girl who was dazzled by a few things.

If he noticed how emotional I was, he didn’t comment. He just guided me through the house, and I almost regretted there being two rooms because, somehow, I had gotten used to sleeping next to that huge man and waking up in his arms, not wanting to, but wanting to be protected from the cold.

We organized everything we could, and at the end of the task, we were exhausted, lying on the sofa. I was almost asleep, after we ate something that a neighbor – whom Ilya called Mrs. Hollis – brought, at Hunter’s request. It was a delicious roast with potatoes, and I ate until my belly was swollen.

Most of the time, when one of us went to the kitchen, it was me, and even though I was very good at cooking, eating meals prepared by someone else who also knew the perfect amount of seasoning, the right level of meat, and who made everything with a lot of love, was something else. I also didn’t remember the last time I had eaten something homemade and so good.