Zeke is grinning when my eyes meet his, but that grin soon fades into a frown. He takes a step towards me.
I take a step back. Zeke's frown deepens.
"My Maya," the silk of his voice entwines me like a rope that sultans of the past used to send people they wished to see dead, "don't be upset. Don't be afraid. Don't you know, by now, that you have nothing to fear from me?"
The words strike deep into my heart. There I find this realization—that during those days, despite all my attempts to stay reasonable and sane, I grew to feel safe with Zeke.
Maybe it happened when he held me in his arms, or when he kissed me with wild abandon, only to let go when asked to. It doesn't matter now.
I still tremble, but now I don't know whether from the accumulated stress of the last days or merely from Hank's brutal execution. I hug my shoulders.
