Page 19 of Bastard
“Soon,” had been his curt response.
“But the villagers—”
“—will be looked after.”
That had been enough to quiet me until another important question crossed my mind. “Is he livid?”
“Is who livid?” Donovan interjected, but we ignored him in the same way we’d been ignoring his terrified ramblings this entire journey.
“Furious,” Tight-Lipped admitted. “Fucking scary as hell.”
I’d rolled my eyes. “Dios, be thankful you haven’t dealt with his boss.” Diego may be temperamental but his heart is big. In contrast, love is just another four-letter word to Hayden, along with fuck, ruin, and kill.
Tight-Lipped gave me a puzzled look before turning his attention to the passing landscape.
Kenya is a beautiful, lush country. Hills and plateaus to the west and sloping hills leading eastward toward a coral-lined seashore. Does Donovan realize that Tight-Lipped has bypassed Nairobi, Kenya’s capital and where the US Embassy is located, for the port city of Mombasa? I bite my lip, waiting for him to understand that our plan of notifying the embassy about what happened has changed. If we want to help the villagers, connecting with Diego is the best move.
I trust my brother to act quickly. And I’ll do anything to protect him, including keeping his secrets. Even though Donovan could use some reassuring.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Should I be worried?” I joke and earn Donovan’s smile. Tight-Lipped, who is squeezed into the taxi’s backside on the opposite side of Donovan, stares out the window.
“Let’s get out of here, okay? Fly home with me to Iceland. We’ll contact UWC about relocating to a different village where we can continue working together. Somewhere safe.”
I scowl. “Leave Nmimpi?”
Donovan seems surprised by my question. “You’re thinking of going back? The militants might return.”
Looking for you, I think. The South Africans found his laptop. If they alerted the militants, then it’s a man named Donovan they’re after.
“I never had a chance, did I?” he utters out of the blue. I mentally groan.Not this,por favor.Except he continues, striking deep. “Because you’re in love with someone else.”
I stiffen in my seat. “No.”Not anymore.
“Yes, you are. Everyone can see it.” He turns to Tight-Lipped. “You’ve seen her staring off into the distance, deep in thought and thinking about him.”
Tight-Lipped pivots his big body in the seat. His gaze drops to the chain around my neck, then to the outline of the ring hidden beneath my cotton shirt before returning upward. Puzzled? Perplexed? It’s hard to read his reaction.
I raise my chin, daring him to speak. Ironic, really, given his nickname. But, true to form, he frowns and remains silent.
My attention shifts to Donovan. “Haven’t you both anything better to do than watch me?”
“I guess this means Iceland is out?”
“Yes.” Dios, perhaps I should start calling him Señor Persistent? “I’ll be returning to Nmimpi as soon as—”
“He won’t allow it,” Tight-Lipped interrupts.
“Who?” Donovan asks once more.
“I don’t need his permission.”
Tight-Lipped snorts, mockingly.
Like my brother, I’ve a wicked temper. Moderating my passion is something I’ve worked hard to control. Age and time have helped. Moving to a different continent and reimagining my life has too. Shame that all my efforts are suddenly a lost cause. But I came to Nmimpi with a purpose. I decide what’s next for me. Anyone saying otherwise,snortingat me, is an issue for me.
“¿Cuál es tu problema? The bugs getting to you?”
