A gleam from the corner of Colin’s eye caused him to pull back and release Fernando’s neck. The Thai woman stood over her attacker, naked, bloodied, and shaking, with Colin’s gun in her hands. She pointed the gun, down, down, right at Fernando’s crotch. Colin leapt away.
“No!” Fernando yelled, but this time, when the trigger was pulled the gun went off. She stumbled back with the light kick and Colin stared. Fernando’s mouth was wide and he gasped unsuccessfully for air. A primal keening wail was rising from the man’s throat.
“Bloody hell,” Colin whispered. The woman whimpered, lowering her arms. He grabbed the gun from the her hand and shot Fernando in the forehead. He felt back with a thunk.
Shouts rang out from down the hall. Colin slipped the gun into the back of his jeans, then pushed the bed in front of the door. He ran to the window and forced the creaky thing open.
“Go,” he told her. “Go!”
He helped the girl clamber out as fast as she could, and then followed. She ran into the maze of back alleyways, stark naked, and he ran for the open streets, ready to get the hell out of Thailand and back to Angela.
I woke in the middle of the night with a splitting headache and rolling stomach. Mom was at my side the moment I sat up, thrusting a small bin under my face when the wracking dry heaves began. She rubbed my back. The combined tenderness of her care for me and the painful convulsing of my body forced moisture from my eyes. Just when I thought I was finished I remembered Mr. Douglas going to Asia to look for Fernando.
“Is Mr. Douglas gone?”
“Yes, dear. He left last night.”
I covered my mouth and shut my eyes as the illness threatened again.
“Poor, sweet thing,” Mom cooed, handing me a tissue which I used to wipe my face. “God forgive me, but I wanted to punch that woman in the face when she came at you with a needle.”
I chuckled. The sound of it and the feel of it in my chest was shocking. Mom and I made eye contact and I chuckled again. Then she giggled, and we broke into a fit of laughter that had us gasping for breaths. Nothing was really funny. Nothing at all. But it was glorious to be able to just let loose again, and by the end we were hugging.
“Oh, Angela. I’ve missed that sound. Your laugh. I missed you, baby.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No.” She pulled back. “No more apologies. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
When she released me by body trembled.
“My friends,” I said. “The ones I was in Mexico with…”
“Yes?” Her voice and eyes were heavy.
“Are they okay?”
It took her a moment to answer. “They were upset, Angie. Very upset. All of their parents flew down with Daddy and I when we went. But they’re okay. I’m sure they’re okay.”“I wish I could tell them it wasn’t their fault,” I said.
“Me too. But you can’t contact them. If the media finds out…”
“I know.”
“Maybe someday,” she whispered.
“Maybe someday,” I repeated.
Over the past two years I’d become so accustomed to being hungry that I stopped feeling any kind of pang. But at that moment, I could feel the painful twist of emptiness. My body needed food.
I looked at Mom with those big, tired bags under her eyes. “You can go back to sleep, Mama. I’ll be okay now. I promise. I’m gonna grab some crackers and sleep the rest of the night.”
“Are you sure? I can make you something.”
I shook my head and she patted my hand. “Okay, then. Night, sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning. Let’s hope I don’t have to punch anyone.”
I smiled as she left me.
When Mom was back in her room I slipped out of bed and walked on weak legs to the kitchen. Just outside the entrance I heard a clatter that sounded like glass in a sink, followed by an unfamiliar male Scottish voice saying, “Bloody fucking hell!”
I froze, all sorts of horrid scenarios running through my mind, certain someone had broken in.
Then he grumbled, “Fucking Colin hiding my fucking alcohol.”
Oh. It was the guy who lived here…Colin’s brother. I hadn’t met him yet, and I thought maybe he wasn’t even staying here at the moment. Curiosity urged me forward, and I peeked around the corner.
He was tall like Colin, but thinner. His hair was longish, curly and brown. His clothes were black and loose, in a goth sort of way, and he wore black leather bands around his wrist. He must have felt me watching because his head snapped up and he jumped back, spilling the soda he’d been trying to pour.
“Ah, fuck me,” he yelled, flinging his wet hand toward the sink.
I slunk back into the doorway, whispering, “Sorry.” My heart was beating too fast.
He’s not going to punish you. You’re not in trouble.
I turned to leave but his voice called me back. “Nae, it’s all right then, lassie. Come back.”
I moved slowly into the kitchen, feeling my body tucking inward as I stared at the floor.
“Sorry,” I said again. “I…I was just looking for crackers or something. But I can go—”