“Then what?” I snapped.
“She wants to ask you some questions.”
I was tired and confused at this point.
“Questions? What kind of questions? How do you know she’s not a fucking cop?”
“She ain’t a cop, that’s for sure. She showed me her dog tag. She is military, Prez.”
Military? Hmmm. I didn’t know any woman from the army who would want to ask me questions.
“Did you check on her?” I asked.
“Yeah, I frisked her, she’s clean.”
I stopped my questioning to gather my thoughts, reclined on my chair and asked, “Do you have a name?”
“Sarah. She said her name is Sarah.”
I didn’t remember anyone called Sarah. He probably read it on my face because he continued with the description.
“Black hair, blue eyes, nice body and lots of ink, in other words she’s hot as fuck.”
Well, shit.
I knew who she was. What I didn’t understand was… Why was she here?
“She told me The Professor sent her.”
“Send her in.”
“Right away.”
How the hell did I get here?
I’ve gone fromnot my problemtoI’ll take you wherever you want to goso fast, that I haven’t noticed until now.
She hasn’t said a word to me since the episode she had withpretty boy. She’s not even talking to herself like I’ve caught her doing a few times. She suddenly become quiet, probably because she doesn’t know how to control her emotions yet, just like I do.
I don’t know who the fuck Dante is, but it looks like he is someone important to Bruno, someone important enough for him to disappear from the face of the Earth like he did. However, I can’t imagine how she is feeling right now, after hearing what Bruno’s cousin told us.
Is she still feeling abandoned?
Wait. Why the fuck do I care how she feels?
I finally offer to take her home, and she gives me her address. The lack of emotion in her voice disturbs me a little. We get to the neighborhood, this is not an area for people like her, I pull over and help her to get off the bike.
“Hey… I don’t know how to thank you,” she says while loosening the strap under her jaw.
“What do you mean?”
“You were right from the beginning.”
“That’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” If she were any other person, then my usual self would’ve said thatshe owed me. But, why do I feel like we are even? “What do you think you will do next?” I regret asking that question as soon as the words leave my damn mouth.
She doesn’t answer, and my chest is getting pounded from the inside. My heart beats faster than ever. Another second goes by, and I know she will probably give me an answer that I don’t want to know.
Is this fear? Is this what fear feels like?
