We finished our shower and I felt more relaxed in that moment than I had in a very, very long time. Even before all of this madness happened, I never really relaxed. Life was always hectic, and my job didn’t make it easy. I was a public personality, and I was constantly judged by people for my looks. It was exhausting, always living up to what people wanted from me.

But with Gates, all of that was gone. None of it mattered. The doubt and the uncertainty in the back of my mind was completely gone. There were no voices, no deep insecurities, nothing. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was at peace.

I sat at the edge of the queen-sized bed with a towel wrapped around my middle. Gates stood in the doorway of the bathroom and dried his hair as I absently flicked through the television channels.

“Anything good?” he asked.

“Never is,” I said. “And I can never find anything at hotels. It’s like they make these channels up.”

“They probably still get it beamed through an antenna.”

I laughed. “Isn’t that, like, illegal or something?”

“Probably, but look around. We’re probably sleeping on an asbestos block.”

“Oh god. Don’t joke.”

“I never joke.” He grabbed his boxer briefs from the ground and slipped them back on, tossing the towel onto the floor in the bathroom.

“This place is grimy, but it’s not that bad.”

“I know. At least I’m here.”

“Not what I meant. It’s not all about you, Gates.”

“Sure it is. What else is there to do around here?”

“I don’t know. Cow tipping? Cow milking? Cow races. Anything cow-related, really.”

“It’s more than just cows around here. There are also pigs, goats, all manner of livestock.”

I laughed. “So exciting. Fortunately, I love animals.”

“You do?”

“Sure. Dogs are the best. I had a lab when I was a kid.”

“I always wanted a lab. They’re such good dogs.”

I felt a little surprised that Gates liked animals, but I couldn’t exactly say why. Just because he was tough didn’t mean he couldn’t like dogs. Everyone liked dogs, or at least they did in my mind.

As I went to make some comment about his love of livestock and all things farming, he suddenly went completely still. I swallowed my comment just as I went to speak it and cocked my head, staring at him.

“Gates?”

He held up a hand and I stopped short. Something was wrong, really wrong. He walked over to the nightstand and grabbed his gun, holding it loosely as he crept toward the door. I stood up, holding tightly onto my towel and backed toward the bathroom. He glanced at me and nodded at the bathroom door.

I got the idea. I pulled it shut, though not all the way. I wanted to be able to see what was going on.

He turned his attention back to the door. He was moving in a deliberate and controlled manner, the same way he moved when Randy showed up back at the cabin. I felt a thrill in my stomach watching him, though that thrill was tempered by fear. I couldn’t tell if I was afraid of whatever was out there or if I was afraid of him.

Gates was dangerous. It was so easy for me to forget that when he was protecting me, but the man was wild and deadly. I couldn’t let myself forget that, or else I might risk getting hurt. I should shut the door and close my eyes, hope that he could handle it and pray that whatever happened to me happened fast if he couldn’t, but I knew I wouldn’t step away. I had to see what he was going to do. I had to see him, all of him, even the terrifying bits.

Suddenly, the window exploded in a shower of glass shards.

Gates stumbled back, gun outstretched. It took me a second to realize that someone threw a chair through the front window. The chair was laying on the ground in the middle of a pile of glass. The door suddenly bulged, barely being held on by the chains and locks.

A man jumped in through the broken window. Gates fired his gun, a screaming tear of noise in the small room. I couldn’t pull myself from the door though my heart was beating fast. The man was hit but he kept coming. Gates was knocked back as the man shoved into him, toppling both their bodies to the ground.

Gates’s gun went off twice more before I saw him rear back and smash the butt of the weapon down. I couldn’t see the man on the floor, but Gates hit him again and again, and I knew the man wasn’t going to survive that.

The door finally broke free and flew open. Gates fired at it, but the person there moved back. Gates fired a few more shots before running out of ammunition. He stood and charged the door just as the man stepped through.

The man fired and I saw blood spray from Gates’s arm. Gates smashed into the man, grabbing his gun arm and wrenching it back. The man dropped the gun as they fought viciously.

Gates’s opponent was tall and slim but he looked mean. He snapped out at Gates with deadly punches which Gates seemed to easily block and dodge. Gates was a deadly god, and although there was blood dripping down his right arm, he was forcing the man back.

Gates landed a square punch to the man’s jaw. His head snapped back as Gates moved forward, slamming him against the wall. Gates brought his knee up, smashing into the man’s stomach, and then Gates rammed his skull down against the man’s nose. Blood sprayed out and he screamed.

Gates smashed his head into him again and again then let the man go. The man dropped to the ground, blood pouring from his battered face.

He wasn’t moving, but Gates kicked him hard in the throat anyway.

Gates stood there, surveying the scene. The window was smashed and the door was broken in. One body was bleeding there on the floor, unmoving, and the other was out of sight behind the bed. I assumed he was just as bad off.

Gates seemed to take a deep breath and suddenly come back to himself. He looked around, blinking for a second, and then stalked over to the bathroom door. He pushed it open.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, completely numb. I couldn’t speak.

“Get dressed. I’m pulling the truck around.”

He turned and left the room.

Tentative, I stepped out of the bathroom. The two men weren’t moving. I checked on the one behind the bed and his face was as smashed to bits as I assumed it would be, or maybe worse.

I found my clothes and got dressed. I found my money and made sure it was safe in my pocket. I quickly left that room and didn’t look back.

I’d never experienced violence like that before. Sure, I saw Tony kill those guys, but he shot them. Gates was like a wild animal, fighting against two armed opponents and winning. He fought them hand to hand and killed them both, using his own skull as a weapon.

Gates was a walking killer. He was a sharpened knife looking for a body to lodge himself into.

That terrified me.

I had to remind myself that Gates was on my side, that he killed to save me. Gates killed those men because he had to do it to keep me safe. No other reason. It was my fault that Gates was even involved in this at all.

He never asked for more violence, and yet he was getting plenty of it. All because of me.

He was sitting in the truck when I got down the steps. I hopped into the passenger side and he peeled out, tearing onto the main road and driving away.

We were silent for a while. I didn’t know what to say to him, and he didn’t seem like he wanted to talk. Finally, I looked at him and noticed the blood still dripping down his arm.

“Gates,” I said. “You’re shot.”

“It’s fine,” he grunted. “Just winged me.”

“You’re bleeding. You need a hospital.”

“No,” he said. “Cops will be looking in the hospitals.”

“We need to stop the bleeding.”

“It’s fine. The bullet just scraped me.”

“Gates. We have to get you help.”

He suddenly pulled the car over. We were on a lonely farm road out in the middle of nowhere. We pulled off into a field with not another soul in sight. I hadn’t even seen another car since we left the motel.

“Fine,” he said. He grabbed his shirt and tore a strip from it. “Bandage me.”

I stared at him and then set my jaw, determined to help. I turned the overhead light on and got a close look at his arm.

He was right, the bullet hadn’t actually gone into him. It just cut his arm fairly deep. I thought he might need stitches, but I wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. We didn’t have a needle and thread.

I wrapped the strip of cloth around his arm.

“Tighter,” he grunted.

I wrapped it tighter and then tied it off. He nodded, looking out the front windshield.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.”

“I’m good,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“Are you sure? That was . . . “

He looked at me. “It was what?”

“Difficult to watch.” I looked away, feeling stupid.

His laughter surprised me. I looked back at him sharply and he grinned. “The violence didn’t bother me,” he said. “I don’t give a fuck about killing some mafia scumbags.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I keep fucking up. I keep putting you in danger.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“They found us twice now. Seems I’m incapable of keeping you safe.”

“It isn’t your fault. I don’t know how they found us, but I know it wasn’t because of something you did.”

“We can’t go back,” he said. “We can’t stay anywhere right now. We’re going to have to sleep in the truck.”

I nodded. “Okay then. We’ll do that.”

He cracked the windows and killed the engine. “Here’s as good a place as any.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. We’re in the middle of nowhere. Mafia won’t come back here. These roads aren’t even on maps, let alone GPS.”

“How do you know that?”

“I lived out here, remember? I used to travel these roads a lot. They’re old farm roads. We’re in the middle of some guy’s soy field, I bet.”

I looked around and nodded to myself. That made sense and would explain why we hadn’t seen another living person in a while.

Still, we were out in the open. I felt strange being so exposed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked him.

“Like I said, the violence doesn’t bother me. I’m a hammer.”

“You’re a what?”

“A hammer. A blunt instrument of destruction.” He shook his head.

“I don’t think you’re a hammer, Gates.”

“I am, though. It’s not really a bad thing, though Maron wasn’t happy that I was resigning myself to it.”

I cocked my head. “Maron. That’s who we’re going to see tomorrow.”

“He’s my mentor. Well, my old mentor.”

“Old mentor? What happened?”

He looked out the window, frowning. “I might as well tell you, I guess.”

“Gates. No secrets between us.”

“He didn’t want me to go back to Syria. I did my two tours and I did them very, very well. I was out in the shit longer than any other SEAL in the modern era. Maron thought I deserved a rest.”

“You didn’t want one?”

“It’s not who I am. I don’t rest. I keep fighting.”

“So what happened?”

“He pulled some strings and made sure I got what I wanted, but not before laying into me. Maron wanted me to become his protégé. He wanted to teach me how to play the game, how to work the system, how to do the politics shit. Maron thought I could do more good behind a desk, working my way up through the ranks. If I could dictate military policy, as he liked to say, then I could save way more people than I could out in the field.”

“He wanted you to calm down.”

“I can’t calm down. He didn’t realize that at the time. Maybe he realizes it now.”

“He just wanted what he thought was best for you.”

“Yeah, maybe. Unfortunately for him, I’m the only one that chooses what’s best for me.”

“So you left things bad between you?”

“Not great, at least. I haven’t spoken to him since coming home. I never planned on speaking to him again if I could help it.”

“And yet we’re going there.”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

I stared at him, at a loss for words. Gates was willing to do something he promised himself he’d never do again, all for my sake. I didn’t know what to say. It was the nicest thing anyone had done for me, and I didn’t understand how I even began to deserve it.

“Get some sleep,” he said, crossing his arms. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Let me stay up. Did you even sleep last night?”

“I can go a few days without sleep. You rest.”

I sighed and pushed my seat back. He smiled at me. “It’s going to be okay,” he said.

“I know,” I answered. “I have you.”

“That’s right.”

I was afraid to go to sleep, but exhaustion was pulling me down. I figured I’d at least rest my eyes for a little while until I relieved Gates and took over watch duty. He needed to be sharper than I did, and he needed sleep to do that.

Violence, terror, and intrigue. I had no clue how the mafia had found us, but they did and now we were sleeping in some strange truck in some strange field. Hopefully, we’d get to see a man I didn’t know who apparently was angry with Gates for things that had happened in the past. Who knew what was going to happen with that? Maybe he’d throw us out and we’d be back to where we started.

Or maybe everything would be okay. Gates did have a way about him. He was competent, he was deadly. He was Gates.

I heard the soft wind through the grass and wrapped my arms around myself, willing away the darkness, listening to Gates’s soft breathing.