“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
Maya Angelou
19
We spent nearly a whole week together. Not once did Leyna show any of her rotten side to me or anyone else. She was loving, caring, fun, intelligent, and doted over me like I was a princess. She seemed like another person.
We spent the days sightseeing, taking in the history and beauty of Prague. In the evenings, we dined at the best restaurants, and shooed away guys who inevitably approached us. We saw a play, went to the opera, danced, and partied. I was falling in love. If only I could have been Sevilen again, and have her be the same way.
Late one evening when we were at a nightclub, a strange, uncertain feeling came over me as we were dancing. Leyna noticed.
“Sahasha, what’s wrong?” She spoke into my ear so I could hear her over the music.
“Just feel funny, strange, scared maybe.”
“Scared of what?”
“I not know.” I started to dance again and looked around.
I hadn’t noticed anyone following Leyna all week, so I thought she was safe from revenge for her devious actions. I continued to scan the dim nightclub, searching for any threat and finding none.
We headed back to our table, with Leyna in the lead, taking me by the hand through the crowd. She seated me in the booth and slid in beside me. She waved to the waiter and ordered two more drinks, which we both finished quickly, being thirsty from all the dancing.
“If you don’t feel good, we can leave.” She held my hand and looked into my eyes. Her other hand smoothed my hair and brushed it from my eyes.
“Nyet, I okay. Just spooked.” I smiled, gave her a kiss on the lips and held her hand as I gazed at her. She was so beautiful and I’d do anything now to keep her safe—this was the Leyna I loved. It was as if she’d read my mind. Maybe she did and didn’t know it.
“Sahasha, have you ever been in love? Deeply in love?”
“Not until now.”
“Really? Who are you in love with?” Leyna looked around the club.
“The person I with, of course. You. You such vonderful, caring person. I love how you are with me. I never feel zis way before.”
Leyna’s face was radiant and smiling. She wiggled in her seat like a nervous child. Her eyes welled up with tears and she hugged me. Her tearful voice whispered coarsely in my ear, “I love you, too. I’m so glad you love me. I’ve never felt this way before either.”
Behind Leyna, a tall dark Russian, wearing an ankle-length black leather coat, moved through the crowd. His head was above everyone else’s. He looked determined to find someone. He stopped in an open area between the crowd and stared at us with the intensity of a predator.
His huge hand went into his coat and withdrew a pistol with a long silencer. It went to his side as he crossed the open floor toward us. I dove over Leyna and struggled to get out of the booth while she tried to make sense of what I did.
“Shahasha! What the hell?”
He raised his pistol—the red laser streamed through the thick air of the club. I dove into him with my insignificant body.
“Nyet,” he said in a calm voice as his arm wrapped around my waist and held me, kicking and flailing, at his hip. A flash with a muffled blast left the smell of gunpowder.