The Lion's Den

Chapter 18

     Opening my room door, I suddenly felt vulnerable. I don't really know why, I just did. Maybe it was my sudden exposure to hundreds of mafia men, or maybe just the coldness of everyone's sympathy. 

     It was easy to say it was that, but I knew deep down, it was the looming knowledge that I would never feel the warmth of Zivon ever again. 

     I know, that from this day forward, I am cursed. Plagued with the image of him stamped to my eyelids every night when I try to drift off to sleep. His smile, damn that smile. The smile I only saw once, but it was enough to burn it into my mind. 

     I will fall asleep every night wrapped in the coldness of his absence, searching for the warmth of  protection I will likely never find. 

     But worst of all, I will look for him in everyone around me. I know the search will never end, because I will never find anyone like him. 

     The bullet of loss will burrow itself into my chest at the thought of him. I'll see something walking down the street to remind me of him, and every time it will hurt a little more.

     When Feliks gently took my bag from my hand, I snapped back to reality. His eyes seemed to glow with compassion for me. I hated it. I didn't like when people showed me sympathy, I felt like a kicked puppy.  

     When we go down to the entrance, a black Sixth Gen- GT Ford Mustang was waiting for us. Feliks opened the back door for me, and I climbed in onto the cool leather seat. 

     Feliks walked around the other side of the car, getting in the drivers seat. Without warning, Zivon opened the door and slid into the seat next to me. 

     I kept my distance, scared I would be sucking into his touch. I glue my eyes to look out the window, looking at the Den one last time. A single tear streamed down my face, which I brushed away quickly. 

     For the next 30 minutes or so, we all rode in silence. Maybe for Zivon and Feliks it was an awkward silence, but I never really let that effect me. 

     I could see Zivon from my peripherals, and he seemed almost stiff. Like he was scared to move, and maybe he was. 

     We made a loop around what appeared to be an airport, pulling into the back. A huge open lot held rows of planes, some being boarded. I had only before seen planes in pictures, or in the sky.

     We pulled into a parking slot, meaning we would have to walk to get to the plane. Opening the car door, I pulled my bag with me. Wind immediately struck me, cold and fast. 

      I saw Zivon slam his car door shut, but the sound was carried away by the wind. Feliks seemed to be yelling to me, but all I saw was his lips moving. He made a hand motion for me to follow, and I began to push myself against the wind. 

      Suddenly, a ring pierced the air. I swirled around to find the source, searching only to come up with nothing. Looking to Zivon, his eyes were glued to something else. 

      Feliks. 

     Feliks lay sprawled on the ground, a pool of red slowly surrounding him. Everything seemed to stop. I could only feel the wind tossing my hair, and only see red. Panic engulfed me, prickling my mind like static. 

     I snapped out of it to see arms around Zivon. He wasted no time, jumping into action. Throwing his head back, his skull seemed to crush the masked figure behind him. Another approached him, and this time he pulled out a gun and fired a single shot into the mans chest. 

     Five men seemed to encircle him, and I knew he was out numbered. I couldn't tell were the men were coming from, it's like they were just appearing from thin air. I saw men falling around Zivon, and I thought for only a split second he maybe able to handle them. 

     A tight grip captured my arm, and I tried to run only to be pulled back into a large chest. I squirmed against him, but to my own dissatisfaction I couldn't wiggle free. 

     I felt the familiar sting of metal against my temple, it's cold surface mocking me. Zivon's dark eyes met mine, rage turning into realization, and then realization to panic. He flung a man to the floor, and my holder jerked me in a wordless warning to Zivon. 

     "Don't move Mr. Stransky. Unless of course you want a bullet in her pretty little head," a deep voiced boomed from behind me, shouting over the whipping wind. 

     Zivon froze in defeat, as his hands were pulled behind him by more masked men. I watched helplessly as he was pulled up the stairs of the nearest plane, fear roaming my body. I wanted him to fight, fight for his own life- but I knew with the gun to my head he wouldn't. 

     I knew. I knew then. The realization flushed into me like the wind on my skin. I didn't want to lose Zivon ever. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with the man I now realize I love. I love him. 

     I know you'll never get to here me say it, but I love you Zivon Stransky.