Page 54 of Burdens
“Amalia,” he said, tugging at my hand.
Letting out a frustrated breath, I climbed onto his lap, making sure I didn’t block his view of the road, and straddled him, holding his shoulder with my free hand to remain steady.
Not wasting time pondering over the fact that I wasstraddlinghim and we were this close after years, I leaned out the window and started shooting, one of Noah’s arms holding me steady.
The first bullet only lodged itself into the windshield, but the second shattered it, lodging itself into the shoulder of the passenger with the rifle in its trajectory. I then lowered my gun, aiming my next shots down.
I struck the right front tire, the vehicle screeching from the imbalance, but it didn’t stop them. I shot again but discovered I’d run out of bullets.
“Fuck,” I groaned and immediately reached for the inside pocket of my jacket for a spare magazine. I quickly ejected the spent magazine and replaced it, my fingers moving briskly until it slid into place with a click.
I reemerged and unleashed the next bullets into the left tire until their vehicle abruptly came to a stop. Now both of their front tires were flat, jamming up the cars behind them. A sense of relief washed over me and the driver slammed his hands on the dashboard in frustration.
Our car lurched forward with newfound speed as Noah slammed his foot down the accelerator, then briskly turned a corner toward a quieter and smaller street, away from the main roads.
I finally breathed out, throwing my gun into the passenger seat after turning the safety on and slumping as if every ounce of energy I carried had been depleted, my hand resting against Noah’s chest.
I could feel his heart beating under my touch, matching mine as we both caught our breaths. His hand around my waist squeezed as he leaned into me, his chin resting right above my collarbone that had been exposed earlier when I’d opened my jacket.
“Good girl,” he breathed out against my skin, his exhale hot on my neck.
The praise snapped me out of my momentary lapse and I clambered off his lap, taking my gun and dropping back onto my seat with a heavy thump.
We sat in a heavy silence and I could feel him looking at me, wanting to say something, but I cleaned my gun to distract me and kept my eyes on the road.
After a few changes of streets to make sure no one else was following us, Noah merged into the expressway that separated Bab Al Mansour and Bemes, the city lights slowly fading in the background and cloaking us into darkness.
He didn’t ask where we were going or for directions and I didn’t offer the answers. We drove for a little while in a tense silence and I waited until we were far enough away from the city before I spoke up, “Pull over. I’ll drive.”
Unlike all the other times, he complied without questioning. After pulling over onto the side of the highway, he exited from the driver’s side and I took his seat, moving over the console to do so. I plopped down and adjusted it while he made his way to the passenger’s side.
Once we were both settled, I eased my car back onto the road and headed for the safe house that was a forty-five-minute drive up north of Bab Al Mansour, in a university town that wouldn’t draw too much attention since new students were in the process of coming in to settle in for the new school year.
The highway was mostly deserted except for a few occasional cars passing us, heading for the city behind us.
As I drove down the road, I kept sifting through the information that wasn’t adding up, but one thing in particular kept nagging at me. I’d planned to wait until after we’d met with Nassim and we were almost to the safe house, but I needed to know.
I glanced over at Noah and finally asked, “Why did one of them refer to you as Barrera?”
CHAPTER 14
NOAH (PRESENT)
Her question hung heavilyaround us, the weight of it sitting against my chest.
I knew I’d have to tell her one day, that my revelation might change everything between us forever. I just hoped that despite my lies, my next words wouldn’t create an irreversible rift between us that I wouldn’t be able to mend.
I hesitated for a moment, unable to meet her gaze. But then, with a heavy sigh, I finally let go of the one truth I’d kept buried inside, the admission breaking free like a dam succumbing to the weight it’d been holding over for too long.
“Because I used to be one,” I admitted, my confession suffocating the air around us. I chanced looking over at her to find her brows pulled together in confusion. “Omar Barrera’s my father.”
Her eyes searched my face for answers and when my expression didn’t falter, a wave of understanding washed over her, melding with hurt and betrayal that threatened to swallow me whole.
I would give anything to turn back time and meet her again for the first time, to right my wrongs and make sure the look onher face right now would never have a chance to make its way there.
She closed her eyes and turned away from me, her attention back on the road. My stomach sank with each passing second she didn’t speak.
“Say something,” I pleaded, needing her to say or scream something,anything. Anger I was prepared to deal with because anger meant she still cared. But indifference, her silence, that I didn’t want to fathom its repercussions.
