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“Make sure you tell me when you work out how the friend is going to forgive them.” We sit under the shadow of a tree, waiting for the bus to arrive, tourists milling around, half a dozen languages filling the air. “Because I’m really struggling to see it.”
“You know I’m not that sort of writer.” She taps her nose with a grin. “There are plotters and pantsers, and you know what sort I am.”
I laugh, nodding, even as a voice hisses inside of me that I’m a traitor. Lena is firmly in the pantser category of writers, which means she works out the story as she goes along, rather than working from an outline.
My mind is a battlefield as we wait for the bus to arrive, leaping from the way Kane’s lips felt – both against my mouth and my sex – to the Russians, to how Lena’s face would warp if she discovered the truth.
My fingers make paths across my belly, clawing onto my nerves.
Lena is oblivious to it all, gazing around at the world with a content smile on her face, seeming at ease as she always does after a long writing episode.
I study her and tell myself this will all work out okay, even if I’m not sure I believe it.
Where the heck is Kane?
I can’t think of a way of stopping us from getting onto the bus, but his words are bouncing around my head.
He told me to keep her in Medina.
But how?
All too soon the bus is here and people start clambering on. Lena and I arranged a two-week ticket before we arrived, so we swipe our passes and head toward the back. Lena drops down with a huff, grinning over at me.
“They didn’t mention the lack of air-conditioning in the brochure, huh?”
I return her smile, shaking my head, as beads of sweat prick all over my body. But they aren’t fueled only by the heat – which makes the air thick and cloying – but also from how busy the bus is, how any one of these passengers could be employees of the Bratva.
I tell myself they wouldn’t risk anything with so many people around, so many witnesses, but truthfully I have no idea.
As the bus doors close and the driver leads us away from the city of Medina, panic begins to surge through me in oppressive waves, making my belly tighten and my skin tingle, and everything seems loud, close, on-edge.
Lena watches the Maltese countryside as we pass, arid and yellow, dust kicking up into the air as the bus bumps its way along the uneven road. We jostle up and down and Lena lets out a giggle, grinning at me every few moments as if to say, Now this is traveling.
I nod and do my best to enjoy the ride, the moment, without thoughts of Kane’s lips returning to me, making my skin sizzle.
“Hey, why don’t you do an impromptu concert?” Lena gives me a playful dig in the side. “We’ve got a captive audience.”
I roll my eyes, letting out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, sure. And then everybody will start cheering and telling me I’ve got the most beautiful voice in the world. And then maybe one of these people knows a big-shot record label owner, huh, and this is my chance at superstardom?”
“Who knows? Maybe. You shouldn’t be so nervous about showcasing your talent. I know, I know…” She raises her hands. “That’s easy for me to say. I get to hide behind a keyboard. I don’t have to watch my readers read my book. But I mean it, Kelly. Whenever you’re ready to perform in front of an audience, you’re going to set the world on fire, kay?”
I nod, trying to believe her, trying to tell myself she’d understand if I suddenly blurted out the truth. “Kay.”
We spend the rest of the journey watching the Maltese landscape drift by until we join the long wide well-paved road that leads to the capital. It’s like a fortress of a city, the walls tall and baked yellow, at least ten times the size of Medina. The ocean glistens just beyond it, visible because Valetta is sloped, and for a second I’m able to simply revel in its beauty.
Disembarking the bus, Lena runs a hand through her hair and the moment is shattered. It reminds me of the way Kane ran his hand through his hair earlier today when he was on the verge of telling me why he had to leave the States.
But then he got that phone call and he had to leave… why? Where did he go?
He said he didn’t have time to explain, but now fear is smashing through me like waves on a beach, growing larger and more powerful with each passing moment, leaving my nerves so taut it’s only a matter of time before they snap.
