I had no memory of it, but I had a sinking suspicion it had been me who caused him such injury. “Your marks?” I asked, filled with dread. “Was . . . was that me?”

AK raised his eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”

Embarrassed at the confirmation, I shook my head. I was silent for a minute, then I asked, “Where are we? Why are we here?”

AK pushed his fingers though his hair. I could not tear my gaze from his strong eyes and his handsome face. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, you need to sleep. You still got the liquor in your blood. And it’s gonna be a real fucking bitch when it’s all gone and it brings the fucking pain.”

My pulse raced at the thought of not having the drink. I liked the drink. It numbed me from the thoughts that were always swimming in my head. I liked how it made me feel. “I need it.” My eyes roved around the kitchen, searching.

“Ain’t none here, and ain’t none coming. Dry as a fucking desert.” His voice was harsh, his tone daring me to contest. But I was tired, and my headache was growing worse. AK rose from his seat. “Come with me.”

Knowing I had no other choice, I followed him through one of the doors into a bedroom. There were two small, narrow beds; between them was small table holding a lamp. “Take whichever you want. I got fresh sheets and all that shit on there. Stopped at a store on the way while you slept in the truck. Got food too. We won’t need anything more until we’re done here.” I understood what his words meant. He was to keep me here, where there was no drink and none of Meister’s potion. Just him and me and the thoughts I never wanted to acknowledge.

I did not think I could do it.

Feeling drained, pulled by the lure of the bed, I walked to the one farthest away and nervously sat on the edge. AK hovered in the doorway. “I’ll bring you food. But sleep for now.” He leaned against the doorframe, his muscles bulging in his arms. He was so tall he took up the entire space. “It ain’t gonna be pretty over the next couple of days. You’ve been on a seven-day bender and for that, you gotta pay the price.” My jaw clenched with a sudden flash of anger. He had no right to keep me from drinking if that was what I so wished. He must have seen my anger in my face as his expression darkened. “There ain’t none here, bitch. And I wouldn’t try and fucking cross me. No one’s gonna take your shit, especially me. Took on much worse fuckers than you. We’re miles from anywhere, and there won’t be no one coming here but me and you.” He spread his arms. “Welcome to hell.”

With that, AK turned around and shut the door. I glared at the space he had been occupying, wanting to follow him and protest. But my mind reminded me of things he had already done for me, and I did not move. He was a hard and dangerous man, yet strangely, I felt no fear around him.

Called by the comfort of the mattress, I rolled back the exceptionally neat covers and climbed inside. The frame creaked under me, and I closed my eyes. I must have been tired as I did not remember falling asleep.

And for once, I did not dream.

I did not think of her.

*****

When I woke, it was to purge into the bucket beside the bed. The room was darker than before, so I knew that night had fallen. I emptied my stomach of the food and liquids AK had been waking me to eat during the day, my body unable to keep them down.

I groaned as I managed to thrust myself back to lie on the bed. I stayed still, holding my breath, until the room fell back into focus. I felt drained and sick and every part of me ached. I was thirsty, and when I looked at the table beside me there was a full glass of water and two pills waiting for me. AK had been giving them to me throughout the day. They helped some, but not enough.

Nothing would be enough.

I concentrated on moving my limbs as I brought myself to a sitting position. I took the pills, drained the glass and realized I needed the bathroom. It took me a full minute to convince myself to move. There was no sign of AK as I exited the bedroom and went down the hall. I used the bathroom, then looked in the mirror above the sink. Dark circles ringed under my eyes. My cheeks were sallow and gray.

I looked a mess.

I had to turn away when a sudden grip of emotion took hold of my heart. Who was this woman?

I had no idea anymore.

I walked slowly into the kitchen, my body protesting with each step. I filled another glass of water, and when I turned, caught the orange glow from a fire outside. I did not want to sleep any more, and I craved fresh air about as much as I craved another drink, so I went outside. AK was sitting on a chair next to the fire pit. The flames were high and the moon was bright, casting a glow around AK, who was staring, lost in thought, at the crackling burning wood.

I didn’t know whether to approach him or leave him alone. I stood for a moment, debating what I should do. Eventually, I stepped closer, strangely unwilling to turn away.

There was a second chair beside him. Still clutching my glass of water, I sat down, exhaling in relief as my pained body found some semblance of comfort.

Without meeting his eyes, I said, “Thank you for the pills and water.”

AK did not speak. I looked at him to make sure he had heard me and found him watching me. His head was lying back against the chair, and one of his hands was across his chest. He nodded silently.

I studied the small wooden home in this light, and found myself feeling more at peace than I had in a long time. Out here was quiet, and as hard as it was for me to admit, it was free of Lilah. It was free from her scar and worse, seeing her with Grace. Seeing her stroke Grace’s hair and kiss her head. Reading to her as she fell asleep, safe.

It freed me somewhat of the pain I could only calm with bottle of alcohol.

“I like it out here,” I said, searching for a distraction from my thoughts. “Is this home yours?” AK tensed beside me.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. I faced him, confused by the tone of sadness in his voice. AK turned his head away from me, looking out at the trees on the opposite side of the clearing.

“AK,” I eventually dared ask. “Why . . . why am I here?”

As I had noticed he did whenever he was nervous or unsure of broaching a topic, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long, deep drag. He blew out the smoke into the warm night. “You weren’t yourself. You needed to get the fuck away from the club so you could stop with all the drinking shit.”