Page 66 of The Man with a Treasure

Gasp! Scarlett stared at a loaf of French bread as if she was seeing a pot full of gold. Then, timidly, she looked to Angelo. That was all she had to do. That man ripped open the package, tore off a chunk, and offered her the reward of his caveman efforts.

I so wanted to offer a plate or napkin, but that would have interrupted their first shared bread. As she took a bite, Angelo took a bite of the mangled hunk leftover in his hand.

Then another miracle happened.

Scarlett smiled.

As did my best friend.

I quickly recognized and became grateful for every tender moment, because they were what helped us get past all of the hellish ones. With a full belly of warm water and a few bites of bread, and fresh bandages, Scarlett’s eyes began to droop. She had been through quite the ordeal that day, and it was taking its toll. She was exhausted.

There were two bedrooms on each side of the rented house. For security reasons, Angelo and I each picked one on opposite sides. When standing in the kitchen, facing the fireplace, Angelo’s room was to the left. After Scarlett learned where his room was, she picked the bedroom next to his. I wasn’t particularly fond of all the windows, for security reasons, but had a sneaking suspicion it would be a glorious experience for Scarlett. Besides that, the room was fit for a female, filled with fluffy blankets, soft pillows, and delicate decorations. But Scarlett looked like a fish out of water, cautiously sitting on her new bed.

I offered, “Do you want to get under the blanket?”

Scarlett eyed the bed underneath her, then shook her head. Her big blue eyes filled with sadness. It was heartbreaking. I didn’t know what we had done wrong. She had been talking to us earlier, but now wasn’t willing to speak at all. Not even Angel’s presence was bringing her peace. The only thing that seemed to be familiar to her at all was that damn plastic cup. A little apprehensive about the foreign objects, also referred to as pillows, Scarlett eventually reclined on her side and stared at the cup on the nightstand.

If that damn cup was that important to her, it was now valuable to me. I would protect it and my friend, who was standing next to me and struggling to breathe as he stared at her. “Hey, Angelo.” I gestured behind us. “How about we sit in these non-moving swings and watch over Scarlett’s cup while she sleeps?”

Scarlett reminded me of a child when she almost gasped and looked to Angelo, waiting for a response that she hoped would answer her prayer.

Angelo was a deep thinker but was hiding no thoughts that night. He was heartbroken for this victim. His soul wanted to reach out and caress hers. Yet, all this man said was, “Sure.”

What a goon.

Scarlett’s relief was tangible as she sagged into the pillows and bed, once again staring at her cup. I walked over to her nightstand and went to turn off the lamp but... “Are you used to sleeping in the dark?”

There was no answer. She didn’t even look at me. Only the cup.

Whatever was going on inside her head, she wasn’t interested in sharing.

Since I had a long night ahead of me—watching over this Giordano—I turned off the lamp. A dark house made it easier to watch our surroundings outside.

Once she fell asleep, I opened some blinds so we could easily see outside. The moon was shining in on Scarlett’s black hair, making her look like a sleeping Goddess.

Angelo and I took turns sleeping, but both would be awake every time Scarlett struggled in her sleep. Her moans and cries were woeful to witness, but when her hands were together again as she fought off nightmares, I wanted to vomit.

My friend stood with his jaw locked tight and headed for the door while putting on his jacket to cover his holster.

I ran to him, whispering, “No.”

“They die. Tonight.” He left the room.

Keeping up, I tried to reason with his fury. “If you go and start killing those assholes, you will bring attention to her. You would be putting her in more danger than she is already in.” He stopped at the front door, his eyes sliding shut. I was right. The sane part of him knew it. “I promise, my friend, when the time is right, I’m going to set your razor wings free.”

Somehow, with all that had gone down in the last forty-eight hours, Angelo and I had forgotten to sleep. That is why, that first night, while he rested in a chair, I fell right to sleep after sitting down. My body demanded it.

I woke to, “No.”

Angelo was standing… staring at an empty bed.

I jumped to my feet. “No.”

My sight raced to the windows. Closed.

Angelo and I ran to her bedroom door—

Curled in the corner, we found her naked body, asleep, holding that damned plastic cup.