13FeliciaI watch as the old white-haired man shoves the barrel of the shotgun at Lance’s face. Odd, but I feel protective, like a lioness who’s just seen her lion threatened. He saved me, I think, and now he’s in danger. In my mind, I see how the next few minutes could go. I see the white-haired man pull the trigger and I see Lance’s head explode and the overgrown garden showered in red. Then what . . . I run, perhaps, and the white-haired man catches up with me. What if he’s just as bad as Barinov?
“You won’t,” Lance says, but his voice does not sound like his own. It breaks and I’m sure a genuine tone of fear enters it.
I watch, terrified, as the white-haired man shakes his head. “I’m done with the life.”
“I’d never ask you to come back to the life, you stupid old bastard,” Lance snap
