The next day is uneventful. We spend most of the afternoon in my room, working on editing the footage we shot during our marathon interview. The crew lounges around, clearly bored out of their minds, but this is just the way it goes.

Around noon, there’s a knock at the door. I get up, stretching a little. “I bet that’s Trace wondering if they can order a pizza or something,” I say to Viv.

She smiles but doesn’t look up from the screen, totally engrossed on what she’s doing. I head over and pull open the door.

Instead of Trace, it’s Claude. “Henry,” he says. “May we speak?”

I nod and step out into the hall, letting the door click behind me. “What’s up?”

“There have been some men hanging around the hotel lately. We believe they are a part of the gang, the Strips as you call them.” Claude looks at me, his face expressionless and blank. “Do you want us to chase them off?”

I shake my head. “Let them lurk,” I say. “If they’re not harming anything.”

“Still, sometimes it is best to show strength.”

I shake my head. “We’re almost through here. I don’t want to push any buttons and escalate this further.”

He nods, understanding. “So our job is nearly finished?”

“I think so,” I say. “We’re not positive on the details yet. But we’re hoping just another day or two.”

“Good,” he says. “After what happened, you all should be leaving town. I don’t know how long we can keep you safe.”

“You’ve done a lot already.”

Claude nods. “Happy to.” He turns and strides back down the hall without another word.

I sigh and lean up against the hall for a second.

How the hell did it get to this? French Canadian freedom fighters protecting us, violent gang members trying to kill us. I thought this was just some easy puff piece, but obviously I was wrong.

And in that room is the woman I’m falling for like a fucking idiot.

Maybe that’s not exactly right. I don’t think I’m falling for her. I think I fell for her a long time ago, but I’m just remembering what it’s like to be with her. I’m already head over heels, I’m just waking up all those old feelings and letting them take over.

I know it’s dangerous to let myself get attached like this, especially during a dangerous time. I should wait until we’re done with this story and heading home, but clearly I can’t control myself around Vivian. I’m an idiot for her, plain and simple. I’m willing to do stupid things just to make her happy.

Like finishing this story. We should hightail it the fuck out of here and write the rest of this from the safety of our office. There’s no reason to go fishing for that perfect ending sequence, but she’s adamant. She doesn’t want to run away, because she thinks this is some kind of test for her.

I know how she’s feeling. I felt like that myself. What people don’t tell you is they’re always afraid, even when they look brave. Out in the desert of Afghanistan, I was fucking terrified every day, but I kept on moving one foot in front of the other. That story Bill likes to tell is just one tiny piece of a large and complex story. Maybe I was crazy that night, but there were plenty of other nights that I kept my fucking head down and didn’t invite disaster.

That’s how you survive, and I wish I could make her understand that. I know she needs to learn it on her own. You survive and flourish in this business by not taking risks the vast majority of the time. Only once in a while do you take that single calculated risk, and only when the risk isn’t that high.

This is one of these borderline cases. I can’t tell if the risk is worth the reward, but Vivian seems completely convinced that we need this one last piece. I’m honestly not sure, and so I’m letting her make the decision.

I could be stupid… clouded over by my own desire… but it’s too late for that.

I head back into the room. “Everything okay?” Viv asks as I head over and sit back down in my chair next to her.

“Fine,” I say. “Claude was just checking in.”

“Good,” she says. She leans her head up against my shoulder. “God, I’m exhausted.”

I grunt and kiss her. “Kept you up too late?”

“Yes,” she says seriously. “Please, Henry, you have to go easy on me.”

I laugh and pull her against me. I kiss her deep and shake my head. “No, thanks,” I say. “I’d rather make it as hard as possible.”

She groans and laughs as I kiss her again. We keep doing this, vacillating between working intensely and feeling each other intensely. We spend an hour in bed, fucking until we’re spent, and then we go back to work for a few hours until we start fucking all over again.

That’s how the day passes, in a blur of work and sex, everything just mixing in with everything else. It’s fast and intense and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good in my life. Morning turns into evening in the blink of an eye, and we’re lying there in bed, breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat on our bodies.

I get up and take a quick shower. I find her hunched over the laptop again, scrolling through some footage.

“Hey, have you seen the guys today?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “I don’t even know what time it is, to be honest.”

I laugh and kiss her cheek before finding my phone. “Wow,” I say. “It’s after eleven.”

She perks up.” Are you kidding?”

“Not at all.”

“Holy crap. I thought it was dinner time.”

“I think we skipped that.”

She frowns a little. “That explains why I’m hungry.”

“Want me to find something?”

“That’d be great,” she says. “I just need to finish this…”

She trails off and turns back to the screen, putting her headphones back on. I put some clothes on and leave the room, wallet and keys shoved hurriedly into my back pocket.

First, I check on Miller. He’s in his room, reading from an old paperback. “All’s quiet,” he says. “Haven’t seen the other two.”

“Good.” I hesitate. “Got any food in there by any chance?”

He shakes his head and shrugs a little apologetically.

“No problem,” I say. “Hey, get your stuff packed. I think we’re going to head out in the next day or two.”

He grins and gives me a thumbs up. I nod at him and turn away, heading down the hall toward Bill’s room. Once there, I knock a few times, but there’s no answer. Figuring he’s just down in the lobby, I head toward Trace’s.

There’s thumping music coming from behind his room as I stop in the hall and knock. I have to knock a few more times, pounding over the door, before he finally answers.

“Hey, boss,” Trace says.

“What are you doing in there?” I ask him.

“Nothin’,” he says. “Just hanging out. What’s up?”

“Just checking on you guys. Got anything to eat, by the way?”

He shrugs. “Some snacks, that’s it.”

“All right, never mind.” I glance back down the hall. “Hey, do you know where Bill’s at?”

Trace hesitates. “Uh, why would I?” he asks me.

That gets my attention. I turn back toward him and Trace is looking at the floor.

“What’s up, Trace?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know where Bill is, sorry.”

“Trace,” I say, suddenly nervous. “Did he go somewhere?”

He sighs. “I promised not to tell.”

“Trace,” I repeat. “You saw what happened. We can’t be going out, things are too dangerous.”

“He was so bored,” Trace says. “Just wanted a few drinks to loosen up.”

“Where is he?” I ask, suddenly worried.

“Same place we’ve been going,” he says. “The Floorstander.”

“Shit, thanks, Trace.” I turn away and hurry toward the elevators. That’s the last place Bill should have gone. All thoughts of getting Viv something to eat are totally gone as I hurry down into the lobby.

This is so stupid and irresponsible. It’s totally unlike Bill. He’s been through enough shit to know that he shouldn’t push his luck, much less go back to a bar where we know it’s dangerous for us. Maybe he thinks his winning personality will protect him but I know better than that.

The Strips are just waiting for us to make a mistake, and this is probably their chance.

I head out into the parking lot, not thinking about it. Fortunately, Bill took a cab or an Uber or something, because the van’s still there. I hop inside and pull out as fast as I can, driving toward the Floorstander with fear lodged deep in my gut.

The worst case scenario keeps popping into my mind. I keep seeing Bill face-down in a ditch, half drunk and bleeding from a bullet hole to his gut. The Strips just leave him there to slowly bleed to death, wracked with agony, unable to scream for help.