Isaak heads to the passenger side door of one of the Jeeps. As though he can sense me watching, he turns around and looks up, directly at my window.
Our eyes lock. Despite the distance, I feel the connection between us stretch and tighten and pulse and shimmer.
Even when I’m pissed at him, I can’t escape my feelings.
I can’t stop worrying about him.
I can’t stop loving him.
“Don’t die,” I mouth to him.
He gives me a nod and gets into the vehicle. The gates swing open and in perfect synchronicity, the vehicles whisk out, one after the other.
The moment the last vehicle is gone, the gates close. A large contingent of men steps up to survey the gates and double-check the locking mechanism, then they disperse to man the borders of the compound.
I know they’re here for me. There’s no ot
