Page 93 of Collateral Claim
I thought he grabbed my hand to comfort me.
Endo grabbed my hand to hold me captive in case I got scared and tried to run.
“Massio!” Endo shouts. He lifts his arm as if he can’t wait to embrace someone. I rise on my toes and peek around Endo’s shoulder.
A tall, lanky man walks toward the plane. He wears a brown suit, a yellow tie, and honest-to-God bright red shoes. From his pocket, he pulls out a red foam ball and fits it onto his disproportionately long nose. He squeezes it, and the nose peeps. Creepy clown.
Endo laughs as he descends the steps, dragging me with him.
I tug on his hand, and he tightens his grip.
It’s a fake, unwelcome embrace when the men hug. They exchange brief words before Endo introduces me. “This is Dr. Scarlett Pembroke, my fiancée.”
Massio pockets the clown nose and shakes my hand.
“Nice to meet you,” I say with a pleasant smile.
The twins’ father strikes up a conversation with me using the language people speak here. I’m taken by surprise, but I don’t want to be rude if I can keep up. And apparently, I can, for the most part. His thick accent tells me he’s not a native speaker.
Endo monitors the cars. I was right about the rifles and rolled-down windows.
When Endo does finally look at me, he glares. Maybe he’s annoyed that I’m conversing with his half brother, whom he hates. I glare back because I’m going to be nice to the clown who arrived with eight armored (likely) cars that fit an army of people who can shoot us down. For all I know, Massio will shoot Endo and spare me.
I want to live. I want to see my family again.
“Can I steal your lovely fiancée to show her my city?” Massio asks Endo. “Did you know she’s never been to Selnoa?”
“Maybe another time,” Endo says.
“No time like the first time,” the man says.
Endo’s smile is tight. By the way his jaw moves, I can tell he’s grinding the gum between his teeth. “We’re staying at the Sana down by the cathedral. I will take her on a tour myself.”
“Nonsense, my brother and my sons must stay with me.”
Endo stills.
Massio does as well.
In the old Western movies my dad would sometimes watch, I saw duels. This reminds me of the part where one man fires the first shot, and now they both stand there in the rising dust, waiting for the other one to fall. Massio fired a proverbial shot. Endo should fall.
The tension between them suffocates me more than the humidity in the air. I can barely breathe. Endo is cornered, and if I’m reading the situation correctly, his half brother is forcinghim to stay when Endo has no intention of remaining in the city at all.
He intended to exchange me for information and leave as quickly as he came. Endo wouldn’t share the details of the plan with me, but I figured my dad would meet us at the airport since my family and I would also need to fly out.
“You can’t have my collateral,” Endo says.
The grip he holds on my hand loosens, and I get a wild idea that it’s because Endo is a second away from reaching for his weapon. I grip his palm tightly, the same way he held mine only moments ago.
“We welcome your hospitality, Massio. I’d love a tour,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t shake. I’ve never dealt with gangsters before, and I’m way out of my league. But my purpose is stronger than my fear. I don’t want people to die today.
Chapter 38
Endo is not taking this well
Scarlett
From the back of a black SUV with tinted (and probably bulletproof) windows, Massio gives me a two-hour tour of what he insists on callinghiscity, no doubt to cement the idea that he’s the king here, as opposed to Endo, who’s just a visitor.
