I’m sorry, Dima.
30
The Break
Rose
T
he next morning, I got up and dressed. My whole body was a wreck of nerves. I had no idea what I would expect outside of my guest room.
Is Dima still pissed with me? Does his mother know?
All dressed, I left my room.
Two new guards stood outside. One had a mole on his cheek. The other wore black sunglasses.
The one with the mole spoke, “Ms. Walsh, we’ll be riding back to Paradise with you.”
“Okay.”
Mr. Mole led the way.
I followed.
Mr. Sunglasses walked behind me.
We headed downstairs.
I glanced over my shoulder. “What are your names?”
Sunglasses remained quiet.
I turned back to Mr. Mole.
He shook his head. “We’re not to exchange names or have too much small talk with you. However, we can answer questions and will follow any reasonable orders from you.”
“As per Dima’s wishes?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay.”
Instead of leading the way, Mr. Mole got to my side.
I looked at him. “Does Dima still think that I’m in danger?”
“He wants to keep people on you until certain matters are handled.”
Leo.
I wondered how long it would be until Leo was killed.
Also, surprisingly, I was shocked that I didn’t mind the idea of Lei taking his father’s life. It meant the Syndicate would solve the situation themselves without getting help from the police. And after witnessing the horror that had been done by Leo, I didn’t care if the Syndicate got rid of him.
Why am I okay with that death? I shouldn’t have spent time with him. Already, I’m changing my beliefs.
But in my mind, it seemed absolutely logical for the Syndicate to make Leo disappear. If the police took Leo into custody, they would give him a trial. I imagined Leo had some access to funds. With the right lawyer and enough money, one could get away with several murders.
I blinked, thinking about Dima’s comment on my family. He’d suggested that people and my family may have killed to get to power too.
I hadn’t responded because I knew what he said was true. I wasn’t so gullible to think that there were no skeletons and dead bodies in my ancestors’ closets. Perhaps, even my father had blood on his hands from dirty deeds.
Am I being contradictory?
We hit the bottom of the stairs and headed to the front.
Mr. Mole opened the door.
A gold limo waited outside.
The driver already had the door opened.
An odd sensation brushed over my skin as if someone were watching me. Before climbing into the limo, I glanced over my shoulder and paused.
Dima gazed at me from a large window.
Instantly, I wished he were down here. I wanted to talk to him, even though there would be nothing new for us to say. Regardless, I already missed him. I already hated him being so far away.
I should have gone into the limo, but I remained there frozen and gazing at him with pleading eyes.
And then he shut the curtains and disappeared.
Sad, I climbed inside.
The driver shut the door.
A minute later the limo sped off. Due to the early time and perfect weather, we zipped down Caviar Lime Highway with no problem. There were no other cars on the road.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at my building. Mr. Mole and Sunglasses rode up the elevator with me. I opened my door for them. They went inside, looked over the place, and then left.
I called after them, “You won’t be inside?”
“No, ma’am. We’re to remain outside.”
“Okay.”
Purring sounded near the kitchen. Barbara Whiskers appeared and prowled over to me. She rubbed against my leg and then continued beyond me.
Mr. Mole closed the door after them.
Barbara went up to the shut door and rubbed against it. A shrill meow left her.
“Dima isn’t here.” I went over to her, lowered, and petted her soft fur. “I’m glad he had his people bring you here.”
She left my fingers, meowing and switching her tail from side to side as if she were thoroughly pissed.
I held out my hands. “Excuse me?”
Meowing some more, she headed off to my bedroom.
“You do know that I am your actual owner, not him?”
No response came.
“Now what?” I gazed around my apartment. I hadn’t been in my condo in several days. The last time I came, Dima was with me. We’d made a trashy romance book run and ended up grabbing ten paperbacks and my coffee.
Now that seemed so long ago.
I scanned my space, trying to find my bearings again. “I’ll go back to work and. . .”
What would I do an article on?
I couldn’t report on the Diamond Syndicate. As soon as I said the words, Dima’s face flashed in my head. Plus, with all my time with Dima, my views had slowly shifted. So much that I wasn’t sure what my thoughts on anything were anymore. I’d been a black-and-white sort of girl. Those delicious moments with Dima began to blur those lines and move my mind to lots of gray-thinking.