I narrow my eyes.
“I was there, asshole. I saw you fight him.”
“What were you doing there?” I yell.
“Waiting to back you up with my gun.” She shakes her head angrily. “Like I was backing you up today.”
“Doing something without a plan is not backing me up. It’s fucking me up, Roshelle!” I yell.
“It’s Roshina,” she snaps.
I cannot believe it. I cannot fucking believe it.
We keep driving for a while and eventually we get to a sign.
Columbia-60kms
Finally
“We will go back to Columbia, dump the car, and catch a cab to Bogota. You still have the booking for another ten days in the hotel. We can lie low there until things die down. Make a plan,” I suggest.
Her face softens and she smiles her first smile of the day. I have to stop myself from reaching out and grabbing her hand. “Okay,” she murmurs as her scared eyes hold mine.
There is something breathtakingly beautiful about her bravery-her unbelievably stupid kamikaze bravery. She calls to me on a level I don’t understand, and even though I am beyond furious with her, my urge to protect and nurture her is at an all time high.
She was prepared to die for me today… for her cause.
She’s brave enough to be dangerous and yet vulnerable enough to die.
My worst nightmare.
It’s the last thought that I can’t stand and I know I need to get her safely out of the country as a priority.
Vikinos is not getting her. He’s not laying a damn finger on her. The damage he has already done to her is immeasurable. If I am honest with myself, I know why she shoots first and asks questions later. She has been pushed past the point of return and she doesn’t care what happens to her anymore. The need for revenge has consumed her just as much as it has consumed me. What are the chances that we both have the same target? Two people who randomly meet and have a connection, both with a thirst for the same man’s blood.
I’m not sure what to do with all of this. It’s information overload. I need to get my head around the fact that she is his daughter. The thought of him killing her scares me more than anything else.
This is not good.
A complication I don’t need.
As planned, we dump the car in a deserted street and grab a cab to Bogota. Two very silent hours later we arrive at the hotel.
* * *
Rosh
We walk through the reception of the hotel and I drop my head. I wanted to come back here with Stace one day, but not under these circumstances. As if he can read my fragile mind, he grabs my hand reassuringly. We walk into the elevator and he wraps me in his arms and pulls me to him. I put my head against his chest and close my eyes.
I’m home.
I don’t care what I did today, he is here with me. He is alive. The rest is just semantics.
We get up to the room and we walk limply. Without a word, he walks into the bathroom and turns on the shower and I make my way over to the window and pull the sheer curtains back and stare down below.
I have a heavy feeling hanging over me, like I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Beyond exhausted, I feel like I could sleep for a week.
We are living on borrowed time.
He comes behind me and wraps his arms around me. “You okay?” he asks. This is the first time he has touched me at all since this morning. I didn’t realize how much his touch means to me.
“I don’t know,” I murmur as I stare out over the city. “Who have I turned into, Stace?” I whisper.
He kisses the side of my face as his eyes join mine to look way below, and after a moment he replies, “Someone I care for.”
I turn to him and the lump in my throat becomes really big. My eyes fill with tears at the warmth of his touch and the softness of his words. “I didn’t mean to shoot the wrong person today,” I whisper as my eyes search his for forgiveness.
He kisses me gently. “I know, babe.”
I shake my head as the tears break the dam. “I can’t let you die at his hands.” I shake my head nervously. “I can’t lose you, too.”
“Shh,” he whispers as he pushes the hair back from my face. “Let’s get in the shower.”
He leads me to the bathroom and slowly undresses both of us before we get under the cool water. He holds me in his arms with my head on his chest as the tears roll down my face.
He knows.
He knows this is the beginning of the end.
* * *
I wake in the semi-lit room, knowing it’s early evening. After our hour-long shower today, we laid down and I must have fallen asleep. The adrenaline has hit me like a truck. Stace is lying on his side facing me, his hand on my naked hip.
“Hey.” I smile bashfully. Why does he always watch me sleep?
He leans forward and gently kisses my lips. “Hey.” He kisses me again. “You were zapped.”
I smile softly and bring my hand up to his face. “Did you sleep?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
I watch him, knowing he has something on his mind. “What is it?” I ask.
He narrows his eyes as if trying to put the words together in his mind, and after a moment he replies. “I have to go back.”
I frown. “What?”
“I will never get the chance to kill him if I don’t go back now.”
Fear instantly fills me and I sit up violently. “We will never have a chance to be happy if you do.”
“Listen. Calm down. You stay here.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“You stay here where it’s safe and I go back and pretend that you kidnapped me. He has no reason to doubt me. I can still do it. I know I can.”
“He’s not going to buy it. You have been sleeping with his estranged daughter. You will be killed straight away.”
“Maybe not.”
I stand in an outrage. “Can you hear yourself? Maybe he won’t kill you? Why would you take the fucking chance?” I cry.
“Because I need to kill him for my brother. For your mother.” He shakes his head as he tries to articulate his wording. “So I can fucking live with myself.”
My eyes tear up as empathy fills me. “Stace, no.” I step toward him and kiss him gently and he snakes his hands around my naked body. “Stay here and fight for us. I need you to fight for us,” I whisper against his lips.
His hand goes to the back of my head and he kisses me deeply. It’s one of those goodbye kisses that I have come to hate so much.
“I have to do this,” he murmurs into my mouth.
“Why?” I scream as I pull out of his arms with renewed vigour. “So you can have the last word?”
“I’m not spending my life hiding from him.”
“Then we fight,” I yell. “One day he will come for me and when he does we will be ready. Don’t go into the dragon’s lair looking for death. It’s not needed, Stace. I only did that this morning to get you away from him. You are a danger to yourself.”
He shakes his head. “You stay here so I know you are safe.”
“No.”
He glares at me. “Yes.”
“I’m going to Europe and I’m going to forget all about my father.” I hesitate and shake my head as my eyes tear up. “I’m starting again and I’m going to forget ever meeting you.”
His eyes hold mine.
“I want a man to fall in love with me, one who wants to be in a happy family and isn’t hell bent on revenge for evils he can’t change.”
“I need to do this.”
“You can’t bring Justin back, Stace!” I yell through tears.
His eyes lose focus and drop to the floor.
“You can’t bring him back and he wouldn’t want you to do this. He would want you to move on,” I whisper through the lump in my throat. “Start again.”
He stays silent as he processes my words and eventually, after a long pause, he replies, “I can’t.”
I turn my back to him and fold my arms.
He puts his shoes on. “Stay here.”
I don’t answer him.
Moments later, I hear the door click closed and I turn.
He’s gone.
* * *
It’s 2am and I’m numb.
Stace is gone. He’s already dead. I’m grieving now.
I’m lying propped up in my bed with my Scotch and Coke in his honor, watching bad television.
We were so good together.
I’m furious with him, furious for him taking me, furious with his seduction, furious for letting myself fall for it.
All of it.
He had to go back.
What a crock of shit. If he cared for me, he wouldn’t have left.
He would have stayed and fought because the fight will come to me. It always does.
I lie back and stare at the ceiling as the sound of silent regret hangs around me.
Jiggle, jiggle.
What’s that? I look to the door and see the handle move.
Someone’s trying to get in.
I stand and walk over to the door and watch the handle jiggle again in the darkness.
Someone is trying to get in.
I stand back, wondering what I should do. What am I going to do?
Shit. I race over, pick up the gun, and shuffle behind the door. The lock clicks as if a key has been used, and then a figure comes into view. I frown as I try to focus.
I know that silhouette.
“Stace?”
“Hey.” He sighs.
“What the fuck are you doing? You scared me half to death,” I whisper angrily.
He turns to me in the semi-lit room, takes the gun from my hands and lays it on the desk.
I watch him for a moment as he stares at me, despite the darkness.
“I don’t know how to do it,” he murmurs.
“Do what?”