Page 50 of Under His Sheets
“I promise.”The rush of affection I felt for this man overwhelmed any fear I had for my own safety.“I wish I could take care of you for once.”
He stepped back and brushed a quick kiss across my lips.“You do. You have. You will.”
I should have gone with him. I should have insisted, but who was I to barge in on his family right now? I just hoped he would reach out to me when he was able.
I didn’t sleep much, and when I did, it was filled with anxious dreams. Sounds like power tools became a grinding pain in my head. Heart-pounding scenes of running with only the sound of my heavy breathing in my ears. Standing in a crowd of shouting protestors, but instead of chanting and fists punched to the sky, they turned their vitriol on me.
By six in the morning I couldn’t take it anymore. I was ready to climb out of my skin. I checked my phone and found a text from Alonso from hours earlier.
Papa is home resting. No heart attack. Tests were okay.
I was relieved and grateful that he’d let me know.
I texted back,Thank you. Get some rest. We can talk when you are able.
I couldn’t stand to be in my flat a moment longer.
I dressed in warm clothes and tucked my hair up in a beanie, locked the door, and started walking. I hadn’t been to the beach in a few weeks, and I thought maybe watching the sun rise might give me some perspective. It took me about thirty minutes to get there, and the sky did not disappoint. I wasn’t one of those yoga-at-daybreak kind of folks, but feeling the sun on my face, watching the light dance on the waves, it loosened some of the tension I’d been holding onto. The cool breeze cleansed me of the panic from my dreams and I found a bit of clarity.
I knew I needed to go to Ferrer’s. I had to do my part, though I knew this was a miniscule portion of a larger problem. If I didn’t go, whatever occurred afterward would have a profound impact on me and the people I’d grown to care about. I’d alreadysurvived the explosion at the bar. I had to follow through, and it wasn’t just my ego not wanting Ferrer to have sway over me.
I would share my location with Alonso and Lara, I would leave if anything happened, and I would stay only as long as I needed to make an appearance. It would be fine.
I passed a panaderia on the way home and stopped to pick up some muffins, coffee, and fruit to take back with me so I’d have some food for later. When I opened my fridge, I spotted the white box Alonso had brought the night before. I pulled it out, slid a finger under the lid to break the tape, and opened the box.
Inside was a yellow rose boutonniere. It wasn’t fussy, but it was quite fragrant. I took it out of the tissue paper and examined the pearl-tipped pin that would be used to fasten it—and noticed a tiny device that resembled some sort of chip was implanted in the tip. Perhaps this was how Alonso planned to have the situation monitored at the party? Okay, well, I’d wear it then. I could do this. I could be brave for him, for the kids.
Josette came to see me at ten to go with me to pick up my suit, so we took a cab. She took loads of pictures of me in the full getup, made me pose like a supermodel and everything.
“Who knows? One of these might be the cover artwork for your next album.”
I frowned. “If there is a next album.”
She hip-checked me. “Randall, you can’t possibly think your music career is over. Sure, your band is over, but you don’t need them. I am a witness. I heard you sing. I saw whatyou can do to a roomful of people with that voiceof yours. Alonso wasn’t even paying attention to Camille,” she said with a conspiratorial laugh. “That’s why she went to the bathroom. She was disappointed.”
I feigned shock and she laughed even louder. I wondered what she’d say if she would have seen Alonso leaving my flat the previous night.
I returned home with plans to shower, blow out my hair and paint my nails, but when I opened the door to my flat, there were two men in military uniforms inside my flat.
“Please don’t be alarmed,” one of them said, raising a hand. “I am Comandante Luis Costa. I am Sargento Segura’s commanding officer.” He pulled out his ID, I’m sure because I was hovering in the doorway like I might bolt.
“What are you doing here?”
Costa nodded toward the other man, who stood and gave a slight bow.
“This is Cabo Carlos Ruiz. He will be going with you as Alonso Rey with you to the Ferrer’s gathering tonight in place of Sargento Segura.”
“Does, um, Sergeant Segura know about this?”
“Sargento Segura has been removed from this assignment,” the commander said.
“Because of what happened with his family?”
He gave a curt nod. “In part. Now, we need to prepare you for this evening’s gala.”
I was given a few moments to hang up my suit, partake of some of the paella Alonso had left since I hadn’t had lunch, although it went down like sawdust. I had no idea how to act with these men in my home, and all I cared about was whether Alonso was okay. I hoped he hadn’t gotten in trouble for staying with me. Did they know we were involved?
Once I sat down across from the commander, he smiled jovially. He was probably mid-thirties, about the same age as Alonso, I figured, and Ruiz was younger. Ruiz was handsome in that clean-cut, man-in-uniform kind of way. Our cover story was that we’d met in Barcelona at the Picasso Museum before I moved to Castelldefels, and we had been out on a few occasions but we were keeping it casual. Ruiz was supposed to be an artstudent attending Escola Massana, and that he was originally from Sitges, a place I hadn’t been yet but planned to visit soon.
