Page 74 of A Life Imagined
Rayan exhaled and ran a hand through his hair.“Do you have any idea the difference this will make?”
“If we can pull it off, that is.”He tugged Rayan to him, but the man pulled away, his eyes darkening.
“You kissed her?”
The corner of Mathias’s mouth tweaked.“Who knew entrapment was such a turn-on?”When Rayan scowled, Mathias chuckled.“It’s a good look,” he murmured, leaning in so their faces were almost touching.“I like you jealous.”
Together, with one hand on each of Marsela’s arms, Mathias and Rayan walked her out to the car.She went easily, as though resigned to her fate.Mathias suspected she’d grown tired of her own little game.
They left the motel shortly before eight and headed toward the coast.Rayan drove, as Mathias couldn’t shake the pinpricks of black that remained at the edges of his vision.Mathias flipped down the visor and examined his bloodshot eyes in the small mirror.Worse than the lingering physical effects was the confusion that clouded his memory.Certain images had come back to him.He remembered Rayan appearing at the villa but not the drive to the motel.Then he’d get flashes of words exchanged and couldn’t be sure if they’d been spoken or imagined.It was unsettling to know just how exposed he’d been.
He noticed Rayan watching him.“What?”
“What are we going to do when we get there?”Rayan had turned up the dial on his Quebecois, slipping intojoual,the working-class dialect favored by garbage truck drivers and delivery men.
It was one of many things about Rayan that caught people off guard—how he could open his mouth and prove he was someone else entirely.Mathias knew he was doing it so Marsela wouldn’t catch on.Even a French speaker would have trouble deciphering the thick, clipped variation of the language.
“Let me handle things,” Mathias replied.
“You don’t think they’re just going to hand over the money?”
“If the man wants to know the location of his stash, then he’d better hand it over.And we have our collateral in the back seat.”
“And if he proves uncooperative?”Rayan asked.
“Then we’re both decent shots.”
Rayan’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.Mathias hadn’t wanted to pull him into this, but here they were.There was no turning back now.
That thought jogged another.“Where’s my gun?”
Rayan reached over and popped open the glove compartment.“I confiscated it.”
“I was a trigger-happy dopehead?”Mathias mused, removing his pistol and tucking it into the waistband of his slacks.
Rayan smiled cryptically.“More like a careless one.”
Within fifteen minutes, they were in Boulogne.Rayan navigated the car toward the city’s old ferry port.Behind them, Marsela shifted restlessly, taking a series of short, panicked breaths.She’d been compliant enough that they’d done away with the scarf.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, Mathias,” she hissed, her forehead shiny with perspiration.The sultry smugness had been replaced by an unfamiliar terror.“Burim is not a forgiving man.”
“Neither am I.”
But her obvious distress made his stomach tighten.Who is this Burim, and why is she so nervous?
He glanced over at Rayan, who was waiting for the light to change, and felt the sudden crushing weight of responsibility.“Hey.”
The man turned to him, but Mathias seized up, the words catching in his throat.
If something happens, I want you to know…
Then Rayan gave him a knowing look.“Don’t you start with that shit.”
Mathias snickered.“Eyes on the road, kid.”
Boulogne-sur-Mer had served as France’s first commercial link with England and, up until the turn of the millennium, had remained an important transport hub between the two countries.The construction of the Channel Tunnel and the rise of the Port of Calais had put an end to that, and the rapid decline in traffic resulted in the closure of the city’s maritime station.
In the dark, the station—which combined both a ferry terminal and a railway depot—was an eerie graveyard of mold-stained concrete.There were no barriers blocking the entrance, making it possible for them to drive up to the abandoned railway terminus and park behind the boarded-up building.Mathias ushered a reluctant Marsela from the car, and together, they waited for Burim to arrive.
