Page 33 of Devious Eyes
“What?” I snap, looking out into the inky sea as we skip over the surface.
“Are you on your way?”
“You phoned me less than ten hours ago.”
“And I thought we’d established we aren’t playing games, Gabriella.”
“If we were playing games I wouldn’t have answered your call.” My teeth bite down in frustration
“Look, I know I messed up. But as I said earlier, I need those diamonds. I don’t intend to lose this deal because my sister decided to go and do fuck knows what, when she should have come home with my diamonds.”
“Your explanation was a great deal more critical earlier. I swear, Andreas, if there isn’t a hit out on your head, then all you’ll need to worry about is me. You bailed. You ran, leaving me. You should have thought about the exit strategy, planned for all scenarios.”
“You don’t get to give me orders. And if you were in the fucking country, you’d be able to verify that I’m marked. Unless you can get those diamonds back and into Mortoni’s hand, it’s only a matter of time.” The normal smoothness of his voice now holds an edge of panic.
I close my eyes and try not to hate my brother, but right now, resentment for what he’s forcing me to do eats at my stomach. If it weren’t for his desperate call, pleading with me, I’d never have considered leaving Nate the way I have. And now, a few hours later, after he’s got me to do what he needs, he’s back to his usual self.
“You know I’m on the way. It just may take a while.”
“Why?”
“It’s not exactly a direct flight back to Miami, you know. Be grateful.”
“I’m grateful, hermana.” My stupid, weak heart believes him as well.
“I’ll be with you within twenty-four hours. Give or take.”
“Travel fast, Gabriella.” He cuts the line.
As I sit waiting for the next flight to the States in the departures lounge in Tahiti, I can’t help but wonder what Nate must think of me. If I questioned my feelings for him before, I can’t now. Not after last night. What I feel for him is real. As sure as if I can reach out and touch it with my hands.
But we didn’t agree to love. First names and a holiday fling, nothing more. And even if I didn’t have to leave, who’s to say Nate would want to see me past the expiration date we set along with the length of our stay?
This is for the best, like tearing a bandage off—look the other way and rip. The pain is over before you realise you felt anything. Except the ache in my chest hasn’t dulled or lessened with the distance I’ve travelled away from him. Part of me feels like I left my heart when I ghosted out of the bungalow, leaving him with no explanation and just his assumptions when he wakes up.
The sun burst over the horizon an hour or so ago, but the tropical island that held so much peace remains in shadow to me. I sigh, we’d be picking scuba gear soon. Those are the last words I mumbled to him last night as we dreamed our night away and fell asleep in each other’s arms. Scuba diving. Fun. Stupid of me really, but I was swept away in the moment.
In love.
Another twenty minutes and I can board the flight to San Francisco. It’s the wrong side of the continent, but it’s the first plane that will get me stateside for half a day. From there, I can catch a number of flights and be back to save my brother within the timeframe I sent him.
An announcement comes over the tannoy, and I make my way through to the security check. The pain and guilt festering in my stomach have to take a backseat while I focus on ensuring everything goes smoothly for the next few minutes. The backpack that will save my brother’s life suddenly weighs a hundred pounds. I lift it onto the conveyor belt and rummage about, setting my mobile phone and other items in the grey tray ready for inspection.
My feet edge forward in the small queue and I wait for my bag to appear on the other side. The other passengers around me scatter to collect their belongings, but I’m left waiting.
A petite woman in uniform carries my bag towards me. “Is this your bag?” her stern voice rings out.
“Yes. Yes, it is. Is there a problem? I think I took everything I needed to out.”
“We’ll be doing an inspection. Please come with me.” She walks around to the side of the security area where there is a desk set up with two search stations. A man with a tomato-red face and a large stomach is frantically trying to re-pack all of his items while mumbling to himself.
The woman with my bag sets it next to this man and pulls on a pair of latex gloves. She unzips the top and begins to take out the contents item by item. At least she’s careful.
This has happened to me several times before, usually in the States or Europe. The trick is never lie and stay calm.
“May I ask what the problem is? All my toiletries and my phone are out. I’m so sorry if I missed anything.”
“There was an anomaly on the x-ray, and we need to make a visual inspection.”
