Page 22 of Pitbull
“I don’t know. I just—I want to keep busy.”
“I see...”
Daniel wasn’t much of a conversationalist afterward. Most of the time, he looked at her with a silent contemplation and it both worried and turned her on. Anke couldn’t even begin to fathom what that meant. Her friend was in danger, and here she was doing all manner of naughty things to the woman’s brother in her head.
“Um—okay—going to shower now. This time, for real.”
He spared her another look, curiosity filling his gaze and she backed out of the room. When she figured he couldn’t see her, Anke ran into the bedroom and closed the door.
She frowned as she picked up her bag and dropped it on the large bed. The curtains blew inward carrying with it the smell of impending rain. She’d always loved that smell, ever since she was a child. It was one of the pleasures she kept to herself, one of the things her family couldn’t tarnish.
For a moment, she walked to the window and pushed the bellowing curtains to the side. She leaned her shoulder against the frame, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
It never failed to stir her spirits and made her feel as if she was able to do anything. A little voice in the back of her head screamed at her—telling her she couldn’t really do anything she put her mind to it. She was still stuck serving subpar food at a restaurant named after one of the biggest traitors in history.
The thought ruined her mood and she muttered a few profanities under her breath before grabbing her bag and setting it on the bed. After rummaging through it to find a change of clothes, she locked herself into the bathroom and took a quick shower. Spending very little time brushing her hair, she twisted to the left, then the right to check how her body looked. Sure, Daniel wasn’t interested in her but it made no sense walking out looking like a jacked up sack of rocks.
She brushed her hair and cornrow it back. She had no make-up except for her lip gloss so she rolled some on to save her lips from drying out, then took another gander at herself.
Better.
Barely.
Letting herself out of the bedroom, she wandered down the stairs stopping periodically to check out the pictures on the wall. It seemed CIRO was indeed Daniel’s family. There were pictures of them in uniform and out. They seemed so happy and from what she remembered from the short time they’d been together at the HQ, it was no pretense.
With her arms wrapped around her body, she continued working her way down until she could see light coming from the open concept living area. When she found Daniel again in the lavish kitchen, he was going through a box of things.
“What are those?” she asked.
“Memories from my childhood.” He handed her a picture.
“Aww, is that you and Claudia?”
“Yeah. I was eleven and she was thirteen—about to hit fourteen. We haven’t always been the way we are. Life just—well—happened.”
The pain in his voice was evident. Though she didn’t want to push, Anke was more than curious as to the story there. He continued going through the box, and soon the counter had a bunch of things laid out on it. Pictures, a gold cross pendant, letters from a young Daniel to his sister on her birthday, a drink bottle cover with the nameClaudiainside it and a few other things. To her, they meant nothing. But it seemed they meant the world to him and quite possibly to Claudia. She listened to the stories he told about them and despite what she’d thought before, Pitbull loved his sister.
“I didn’t know what to do anymore.” His voice cracked. “My father used to tell me this story. The end result was this—if you pass a hole down the street and you warned the person going toward it that there is a hole and if they continue to go they will fall in. If they ignore you and falls in, it’s their fault. If they didn’t know about said hole, and fell in, you help them out. If two days away, you’re passing the same hole and you find the same person in it, you leave them.”
“Why wouldn’t you help?”
“Because, they knew there was a hole there. You keep helping them out, one day they’re going to pull you in—then what?”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“Didn’t used to. But, things changed. Too much time has passed. When you see some of the things I do—experience the shock and awe of the world—you start to believe all sort of things.”
“I’m sorry you lost her, Daniel,” Anke said. “But, there is a chance the two of you could build something again. Impossible.”
“Trust me, Anke. Once I find Claudia, there is no going back. She’s made her decision and I’m not someone she wishes to have in her life.”
Anke sighed. She refused to believe there isn’t a way to rebuild their relationship. Sure, it wouldn’t be as it was before, but surely it could be stronger. Anything was better than them being on the same planet, same country an hour away from each other and not speak. “I have no family,” Anke said. “They aren’t dead but they might as well be. At eighteen years old my parents showed me the door telling me they were finished with their obligations to me. Can you believe that? Like I was the one who sat them down and ask them to be in this world.”
Pitbull handed her a bottle of juice before wringing the cap off his own. He stared at her in the same, slow way he had in the office back at GSG 9 headquarters. “They just tossed you out?”
“Yeah. They never had any other kids and we never really had family get-togethers. Before Ruby and Claudia I could have been on mars for all they knew or cared.”
Pitbull drank but didn’t speak.
