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“Oh, boy, oh, boy,” his voice jumps an octave or two like it always does when he’s agitated. “This ain’t good. We can’t get caught.”

“Get caught doing what? We’re not doing anything illegal.” Across the dark park, I spot a figure weaving between some trees. “There,” I exclaim, pointing. “Go!”

Alexei hesitates, then flicks the wipers to full speed. “I don’t know. This feels wrong.”

He’s terrible at this.

“Wrong? There’s nothing wrong with following a woman at night through unlit streets… to make sure she is okay.” I gesture to where I saw Helena just a moment ago. “Now drive the fucking car, Alexei.”

“Right, and there’s definitely nothing wrong with you, either.” He sets the RV back in motion, headlights now off. Wetake two left turns and fall in behind her again. “We should just talk to her. Drive her home. Drink a bottle of vodka with her.”

“I agree,” I say. “But she would not. She’s not the kind of person who would want company—especially not when she’s grieving.”

Although I think, deep down, she might be. She just wouldn’t admit to it. Certainly not to me.

It’ll be a struggle to get her to trust me.

We had waited outside Haven and gotten confirmation of her grandpa’s passing from the EMTs.

“How would you even know?” Alexei shakes his head. “You met her, what, half a day ago?”

“Trust me, I know,” I mutter. This is not how I had planned for this to go.

Alex makes a vague hand gesture, prodding me to explain.

I sigh. “She’s got that ‘tough on the outside, soft on the inside’ thing so deeply ingrained she has convinced herself that her insides are stone too. When actually, she’s delicate—and needs to be handled accordingly. Which today means: not at all. Today, we just watch and make sure she gets home safe. Besides, it looks like she had enough vodka for the three of us.”

More sirens start howling. This time they’re coming from straight ahead. Alex pulls the RV over. Two police cars roar past, drenching the night in red and blue. The sound fades as they disappear into the distance.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” I say sharply.

“Well, chivalry isn’t dead after all,” Alexei snorts. “If chivalry is synonym for stalking, that is.”

5

HELENA

Bad decisions.

They’ll probably be the last to leave me.

A sharp pain in my palm makes me jolt awake. It’s pitch black. My head is pounding. So is my hand; I can feel the blood pulsing through it.

A bed. I’m sitting in a bed. There’s a window to my left and a large painting adorning the wall before me.

My bed.

Thank fuck.

I listen for any noise, but there is none. I am alone.

Thank fuck again.

A sigh of relief escapes me.

I had the weirdest dream. Mr. Lyon was in it. I think.

It might have been more of a nightmare.