After so much suffering, death and loneliness, is it really possible to live with him in peace? I can’t answer that yet, I'm afraid of jinxing the future.
“Dante.”
My body vibrates when Bruno's hoarse voice sounds near my ribs.
“Take the next exit, make a left at the fork, then keep going straight for ten kilometers until you find a dirt road and get on it.” Dante looks at him in the mirror and makes a small affirmative move with his head.
Bruno looks at my curiosity although my face is behind the burka, I know he’s the only one who can read me without actually looking and he shows me that by answering an unspoken question.
“I’m notthatamazing, I practiced this road several times before the event.” He says in my ear, tickling my neck.
“The fact that you have practiced it is what makes you amazing, Bruno.”
He looks at me contemplatively but says nothing back.
The pickup stops and pulling his gaze from mine Bruno comes out of his trance. He looks at our surroundings like a hunter ready for attack.
“Stay here for a moment. Dante, lend me your gun.”
Dante hands him the gun and Bruno gets out of the car.
“Ben,” I calmly whisper. I shake him a little and his head falls back heavily; that makes me smile. “Wake up, we have to change vehicles.”
He opens his eyes but doesn’t let go of my arms, I squeeze him against my body, just like my grandmother did when she said she ‘wanted to eat me alive because I was so cute.’
Now I get it.
Bruno opens the back door on my side, so rapidly that I jerk out of my seat, causing the child to finally wake up.
“I'm sorry, Ben,” says Bruno. “But we have to move quickly, come.” He takes Ben in his arms and helps me get down carefully; the pain is still as fresh as the first second.
Dante gets out of the vehicle and opens Amira’s door, helping her in the same way. Had she waited for him to get the door for her or he is just a gentleman?
Thank God, Bruno didn’t notice that detail, he's very focused on helping me.
I look up and my eyes open wide.
“Shit...” I say under my breath. Bruno turns around immediately. “I was here, with the Frenchman.”
“This is the port that everybody uses, you have to pay a sizable sum to use it.”
“Really? The Frenchman didn't tell me anything about money.”
Bruno remains silent.
We walked through the same abandoned port. During daytime it's not as scary as at night, now it’s just…sad.
“Why do you think he didn't say anything?” I ask.
“Because someone had probably already paid for it.” He says with a dry tone.
I blink a couple of times; sensing a shift in the air, Bruno radiates quiet, deadly anger.
Why?
“Someone? Like who?” I insist. “I didn't spend a single pen—”
Oh no. Rage, of course!
