I held my hands out and turned toward the mouth of the cave half expecting a police officer.
Instead, Dianora’s cousin, Leandro, held an automatic rifle raised to fire. Adrenaline dumped into my system. I briefly considered racing to the back of the cave where Ringo disappeared, but knew that horse had left the barn even before my brain started on other options.
“There are two of you?” Leandro not only looked confused, but his voice betrayed his disbelief.
Two? I looked around. Then realized he must mean my sister.
“Yes. We’re twins,” I replied before my brain belatedly told me to shut the eff up. I winced.
His face scrunched, and his eyes darted as he translated my words. Then it cleared. “That explains much.”
I was getting better at this whole hearing the words and not translating them thing.
He stared at the back of the cave and the boat that floated out of reach. “Are you…something something… alone?” He didn’t wait for my answer because he answered for himself. “That bastard, Ringo.”
Oh yes, that was an expected response. I nodded along with his anger because I’d been thinking along those lines as well. That bastard, Ringo, left me alone here where Don Conti’s men would find me. Or, that bastard, Ringo, grabbed the wrong twin and left her unprotected.
Wait. How did he know there were two of us? Unless…
Oh. That BASTARD, Ringo. “Where is my sister?”
Leandro’s eyes narrowed. The barrel of the gun had gone slack but he aimed it at me again. “You will find her soon. Walk in front of me.”
Oh… shit. Shit-shit-shit-shit…SHIT. Mario was going to be pissed.
I rose gingerly and struggled to ignore the stains on my pants as I stepped off my little mountain of rocks into the water-logged sand. Each footfall sunk about four inches and covered my shoes then made awfully rude noises as I tugged my feet out.
At the back of the cave, the rocks and sand were solid enough that it made walking easier. I couldn’t pause to clean Ellie’s shoes off because Leandro nudged me with the danger-end of his weapon. I couldn’t see into the darkness.
“Move.”
“But I can’t see.”
He muttered something derogatory about women, or Americans, or American women. It was useless to try to translate because the tone he used said more than any words could.
But he lowered his gun, opting to brace it one-handed as it hung from its harness strap and he raised a flashlight at eye level with his freed hand. The light illuminated an ominously low and narrow opening. My shadow blocked some of the ground ahead, so I shifted to see more of the opening.
He grabbed my arm with his gun hand. His fingers pinched the muscles and ground them into my bone.
I dipped that shoulder to try to twist free, but that only made him dig in harder.
“Do not try escaping.”
“Where am I going to run to? I can’t see more than ten feet in front of me.”
He stared at me blankly.
“Me, run? No. Can’t see.” I waved my hand in front of my face, indicating my eyes.
He shined the light right into them.
Bastardo. Now I really couldn’t see.
A few other choice words ran through my head as I blinked my way forward and stumbled twice.
If he hadn’t had a grip on me, I would have went down.
But we moved too slowly for his taste.
