Sometimes it seemed better not to feel anything. It was so much easier than feeling so much. I flicked a gaze at Adriano. He stood unmoving, no emotions on his face.
My best friend.
My ride or die.
Or so I thought.
Three hours of his constant circling, his muttering and I was ready to lose my cool. He was harping on my nerves. His constant movement irked me. It rattled my nerves. I was certain he was getting on Adriano’s nerves as well. He might not be my best friend now, but I knew Adriano well. Besides, I caught him rolling his eyes behind his back a few times.
My eyes kept ping-ponging back and forth between the other guard and Adriano. At this point, I was getting on my own nerves too. I had no phone to call 911. No drawing paper. Nothing to distract me. Just me sitting on the couch. Doing nothing drove me bananas.
Just as the guard was getting ready to make another circle around the living room and finally wear a hole into the rug, an explosion blasted.
The entire house shook. The guard lost his balance and stumbled against the coffee table, rattling it. Gunshots echoed outside and to my surprise, Adriano pulled me off the couch and onto the ground.
“Cover your head,” he hissed. “Stay down.”
Nodding, I followed his instruction.
“What the—” Someone else spat out curses in Spanish.
“Get the girl,” the guard shouted in Spanish. Amazingly, my language skills understood that one. “Take her to the bunkers.”
Jesus, that didn’t sound good at all.
Adriano’s fingers curled around my upper arm, pulling me onto my feet. “Let’s go, brat.”
My head snapped his way and I glared at him. I wasn’t a brat. This fucker… of all the bullshit. He had to screw around with my worst enemy.
“I’m guessing these are not your guys?” I mocked though it was probably stupid and proved his point of me being a brat.
The roar of another explosion sounded too close for comfort. Angry shouts and gunfire broke the silent aftermath, you’d think we were in a warzone. It was too close for comfort. Or maybe help was coming?
A man burst through the door, and every single man aimed the gun in his direction. He put his hands up in the air, a stream of Spanish curses slipping through his lips. Yes, I understood those too. What could I say? Priorities when learning a language.
“We have to go,” he urged in a hushed tone and heavily accented English. “Now!”
“Where are we going?” I asked with wide eyes. These guys would get me killed even before I came up with an attempted escape plan. “It sounds like a damn war out there. We should stay here.”
The crazy guard that was circling for the past few hours like a caged animal came up to me and stopped. A heartbeat of nothing. Then his hand flew through the air and connected with my cheek, sending pain and a burning sensation through me. It felt like my cheek exploded.
“There is an underground bunker here,” Adriano said, stopping the guard from another assault.
“How do you know?” the guard asked him suspiciously, his eyes ping-ponging between Adriano and the guard that just barged in on us.
“Anderson showed us,” the guard answered. “To me and Adriano.”
I still struggled to process all this. My best friend working with Anderson made my stomach churn. The betrayal hit me right in my chest, with each heartbeat. It hurt badly. I would never have dreamt of Adriano doing this. He did some dumb stuff.Wedid some dumb stuff. But this was surpassing it all. And it would cost lives.
“Show me,” the guard demanded. His eyes darted my way, and dread pooled in the pit of my stomach.
“Let’s go,” Adriano answered, grabbing my wrist hard and tugging me along. The other two guards followed close behind, scared I’d take off at any moment.
We exited into the hallway and the worst images played in my mind as sounds of bullets traveled through the air. Who was killing who? I hope Dad, Santi, and my brothers weren’t here. I didn’t want them killed. But then on the other hand, I wanted them here. To kill all these men so we could finally end it all and live our lives.
“Stop stalling,” one of the guards spat out, hate coloring his voice.
Adriano nudged me roughly forward and I continued on. I didn’t know what to expect in this bunker. Would they torture me? Like they did Mom. Maybe they’d just shoot me and end it all.