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Iopen the door to the bathroom immediately after Danya closes it on me. “Hey, asshole, I was going to say something.”
Danya waves at me frantically to shut the door, but I shake my head.
“I love you,” I say.
A smile flickers across his face for a moment. “I love you too. Now, close the door and cover your ears.”
I obey him this time, shutting the door and crawling away from it to hide under the sink. I doubt it will protect me from stray bullets, but it makes me feel safer as the first shots ring out.
It’s incredible how loud guns are, especially when there are so many of them being fired simultaneously. The sound is deafening, even with my hands over my ears, and it’s worse in the large bathroom. The sound bounces off the glistening tile walls like an angry wasp trapped in a glass jar.
I curl up into a tight ball, trying to convince myself that it sounds like fireworks.
I remember when I was younger, I used to love going to the Fourth of July celebrations on the beach with my friends. We’d sneak vodka out there in water bottles, and some of the guys from my high school would bring homemade fireworks that exploded twice the size as the ones you could buy from the store.
The police would almost always end up being called on us, but because we all came from wealth, nothing would ever come of it.
That wouldn’t stop my father from getting angry, of course, but I was always too drunk to care what he had to say. I always suspected he resented me for the way I behaved, but I didn’t have definite proof until he traded me to a mafia boss for a fictional uranium mine.
The joke was on him, though. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, despite the bloodshed, and he’s… Well, he’s dead.
I pray I don’t meet the same fate as the bullets stop and I hear yelling. My ears are ringing too loud for me to understand what they’re saying, but after a moment, there are a few more gunshots.
Then, silence.
I hear a scramble of boots heading down the stairs, then more shouting from outside.
Is it over?
I don’t dare get up from beneath the sink. I remain curled in a tight ball until I hear the door open. I look up to see Danya standing there with sweat beading down the side of his face and blood on his hand.
I jump up, nearly hitting my head on the pipe under the sink. “Danya, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he grunts as I slam into his chest, pressing my head against him and listening to his heartbeat. I was afraid I’d never hear it again.
I look up at him. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re bleeding.”
“Not mine,” he grumbles. “One of the police got shot, but he’ll be alright. We had the high ground and managed to mow down those fuckers from The Red Council. Mansur and a few of the others are outside now, making sure we got them all.”
“So, it’s safe now?” I ask, my lower lip trembling from the stress.
I can’t cry after all that’s happened, but I am anxious about getting to real safety. Everywhere we go, the danger follows us. I’m sure he’s just as tired of it as I am.
“It’s probably safe, but we’ll know when Mansur gets back,” he replies, patting my back gently. “Just take it easy, and we’ll be out of here soon.”
My stomach sinks. “I don’t want to leave the island. I was getting comfortable here, and I hate the cold.”
He gives me an apologetic look, but I’m not satisfied with it.
“You’re rich as all hell, and you’re telling me that you can’t find a way to keep a couple of ragtag terrorists at bay? Some mafia boss,” I say, adding extra sass to my voice and crossing my arms. He’s gotten his way for long enough. It’s my turn to call the shots.
He glares at me for a moment, but I can see the gears turning in his head. His greatest strength is also his greatest weakness. He’s so strong that he can’t stand being seen as anything else.
Sighing deeply, he shakes his head and relents. “Okay, I’ll get some guys down here, but I’m also going to have to have a chat with the Mozambique police about their patrols. It’s no longer safe in these waters.”
“It’s not safe anywhere until we get rid of The Red Council.”
“I will crush them and anyone else your father was selling uranium to. Blood has to be shed to maintain the peace,” he says, balling his fist and slamming it into his hand.
