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The man’s knees buckle. Sergio takes a step toward him, using his momentum to knee him in the stomach and the man folds like a house of cards to the pavement.
“You want to hurt girls? Get up you smelly piece of shit, and fight like a man. Fight a real man and see what it’s like to be scared you little bitch.”
“No. I’m done,” the man says, raising his hand, but Sergio uses the opportunity to grab his wrist, twist his arm around, and immediately I hear the bone break just before Sergio delivers a boot to his face.
And like that the man’s body goes still, Sergio delivering on his promise.
“I don’t tolerate violence toward women,” he says to the man, who has no ability to hear him any longer.
Then that razor-sharp glare turns to me.
“Why did you run from me?” I can hear his molars grinding as I watch his body shaking. His words stab me like a knife, the pain visible in his eyes despite his steadfast resolve showing anger, not sorrow.
“You said you don’t tolerate violence toward women,” I begin. I say nothing more as a beat passes as Sergio’s eyebrows knit. “But you were going to trafficme!”
There’s another long moment of silence as I can see him trying to understand what I’m saying. I almost believe him. Almost. Almost.
His response is too real as he tries to understand my accusation. Finally, he gives in.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks, clearly puzzled.
“The Bahamas? The tickets?”
Slowly his eyes close as his head falls before he shakes it from side to side. “That’s what this is about?”
“Um. Yeah!”
He raises a single finger and then pulls a cell phone from the chest pocket of his motorcycle jacket. Lifting it in front of his face he punches the screen a few times and then turns the screen toward me, handing me the device.
Keeping one eye on him and another on the phone I move closer to the highway so I can get some more light from overhead.
I scroll over the screen. Sergio has booked a full three months at a place that seems to be on the beach, in the ‘honeymoon suite’ at no small cost.
“What’s this?” I ask, needing to hear it from him. Needing him to confirm what this looks like.
“Exactly what it looks like. Our flight leaves at eleven. We should go straight to the airport now.
I just look at his phone and then hand it back to him.
“I need you to agree to this. I can’t just take you again like I did before.”
“Why would I agree to it?” I ask.
“Because I set off a chain reaction tonight. I started an Italian civil war.”
Bringing my hand to my forehead I shake my head. “Why? And why does that affect me?”
“To keep you safe…forever.”
“I’m safe already.”
“You are now, but there’s no point in risking it.”
“Risking what?” I stomp my foot wanting to hate him and love him at the same time.
He spends the next few minutes describing everything that went down tonight, including why.
Crossing my arms around my body I start to rock back and forth. Without asking permission he closes the distance between us, wrapping me up in a hug, showing me another side of him I didn’t know existed.
