CHAPTER EIGHT.
AMBER KITCHEN
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The weather was syncopated in accordance to my somber mood. The sky was ridden of birds, the clouds were dark, nimbostratus, with droplets of rain drizzling against the windscreen of the car I was seated in next to Leopard whose concentration was on driving.
In the car, there was nothing but silence, and only the sound of the rain against the windows could be heard. In fact, the quietness made me feel uncomfortable. And the worst thing about it was his car smelled so damn good, just like him. When I met with him earlier in the living room after he'd dressed up, I was almost tempted to ask about the brand of cologne he was putting on. The events of yesterday night hit me again like a whiplash, leaving a numbness behind that almost made me convinced that I was traumatized by all that I'd witnessed.
It was as though my body focused on the primal aspect I didn't want to remember so I decided to clear away my thoughts by turning on the stereo. Thankfully, Leopard didn't seem to bother about the fact that I turned on the stereo.
I changed stations endlessly, until I finally got to one where Portuguese music was playing. I didn't know Portuguese so I could not understand the lyrics, but I knew Spanish, and I knew both languages were closely related to each other. I looked out of the window and bopped my head to the beautiful rhythm of the song.
As I stared out of the window, I came to realize something. I turned to face Leopard. "What's your real name?" I didn't like calling him Leopard.
I gave him a long stare, expectant of an answer. He looked stunning and surprisingly modest in a Navy blue long sleeve turtle neck and a black trousers. His black hair was parked into a ponytail that did well to accentuate his face. None of his tattoos were showing, and although he still had his earrings on, he didn't look like the bad boy that usually came to the diner I worked in. He didn't even look like the killer I met with yesterday night. He looked different, visually appealing, less scary, but his aura still gave off a dangerous vibe. I felt nervous around him.
Minutes passed and he didn't give an answer to my question. He didn't even act like someone just spoke. He ignored me and I was somewhat hurt by his actions.
I took his silence as an answer, deciding he didn't want to converse with me. I took my gaze away from him and once again, looked out of the window, trying to nurse my feelings which were hurt because he had ignored me.
"Ricardo."
Just a word, but I knew he was telling me his name. I smiled, glad that he answered. "It's a nice name."
He said nothing, only concentrated on driving. I actually didn't expect him to give a response.
I tapped my fingers anxiously against my thighs when I saw some stains against my jeans. I was wearing the same clothes as I wore yesterday, so indubitably, I knew they were dirty, if not stinky also. I raised up my hand discreetly to smell my armpit and it did stink. I wondered if Ricardo didn't feel uncomfortable by my stench but I knew his cologne was probably doing well to mask my smell. While I thought mainly about how I would be perceived by him, I caught a glance of myself in the rear mirror, particularly at the plaster on my neck.
My gaze moved to him as my finger traced the edges of the plaster. "Thank you."
"For what?" His response was curt and quick, almost as though he was expecting me to say something.
I took my hand away from my neck. "The plaster on my neck. I know you did that," I swallowed an invisible lump in my throat as I studied his facial expression, but he gave none away. His face was bland. "That's why I'm thanking you."
"You don't need to."
I said nothing more to him and the rest of the ride was graveyard quiet.
Eventually he reached the street I stayed in and I couldn't be more grateful about the fact that the awkward car ride would finally come to an end. As we got closer to my house, I saw a huge smoke, a beeline of police cars, firetruck, and an ambulance, parked at the front of my house along with some crowds. I knew what happened. Someone already discovered my mother's corpse.
The moment the car was parked, I opened the door and jumped out, feeling like I could finally breathe again after the long, boring, and awkward drive.
Ricardo also got down from the car, eyes set on the police cars parked. "Polizia?" He asked slowly. I didn't know Italian, but I knew what he said; Police. However, I chose not to give a reply. I believed he said that more for his sake; rather than mine.
I closed the door behind me and began to take slow strides in the drizzling rain towards the crowd in front of my eyes. And as I did, my eyes began to tear up. I was beginning to feel sentimental and my heart was hurting. I kept on walking towards my house when I was suddenly held back through my hand. I turned around and saw that it was Ricardo that had held me back. I raised a questioning brow at him.
He bent his head down to my level, "I want you to act oblivious."
"What?"
"I want you to act like you didn't know about your mother's death," he expatriated. "If you make the police know that you're aware, they'd add you to their suspect list."
"But I know." I argued.
He nodded and finger flipped me on my forehead. It hurt and I groaned, wondering why he'd done that. "You do have a thick skull," that didn't explain why he flipped me on my head. "Look, Amber, just trust me on this. It'll make everything easier."
I gave no response to him as I turned around and began to jog towards the crowd that were in front of my house. As I got closer, the smoke was getting more visible. And it wasn't until I reached a good distance did I notice the smoke was coming from my house. I pushed through the crowd that had gathered at the front of my house and went underneath the police tape when no policemen were looking. A lone tear fell off my eyes and my mouth fell open when I saw what was left of my house. It was all ashes.
"Amber!"
I knew that voice well. It belonged to Andrew, my boyfriend. I'd totally forgotten about him. The fact that I even had a boyfriend eluded me entirely.
"Amber!" the voice became closer, but I couldn't give a response. The sight of my house left me speechless. A soft hand fell on my shoulder and I was swooned into a hard chest, engulfed in a sympathetic hug. I closed my eyes and cried. "It's okay, Amber. I'm here for you. I'm right here for you." His voice was soothing.
I didn't know how long we remained in that position, but I knew we were only torn apart when the rain stopped drizzling and I stopped crying. He cupped my cheeks and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "I'm sorry," I didn't know why he felt the need to apologize when he had done nothing wrong. He placed another kiss on my cheeks. "Sorry about everything."
"How did this happen?" I decided to act oblivious like Ricardo told me to. Actually, I wasn't acting obliviously. I really didn't know how my house turned into ashes. I clearly remember that the three men didn't set the house on fire. They only killed my mother and took me hostage. "What of my mum?"
Andrew's green eyes reflected sorrow as he patted my back. "She was. . .she was. . .burnt to death," I didn't understand.
I knew mother was dead already in the hands of those vile men but who could have set my house on fire? And why? Was it to clear all evidence?
"Gas explosion," he added. Then it dawned on me that I left the gas on with my phone in the kitchen. That could have sparked the explosion. "Her body's in the ambulance," he pointed to my back. I turned around and saw the ambulance. "But I'd advise you not to see her. It's for the best."
He hugged me again.
"I'm glad you're alive. For a moment I was scared, thinking you were also in the fire," he broke the hug and used his huge thumb to clean my tear-wet cheeks. "Where were you yesterday night though?"
I gave his question a thought as my eyes scanned around the crowd at the front of my house. They all had looks of sympathy on their faces, it almost made me cry again. My eyes eventually landed on Ricardo. He was talking to a cop, and strangely, they were both looking at me. . .no, they were both moving towards where I stood with Andrew. They reached outside and I was introduced to the cop. His name was Aiden Olsen.
"I'm Amber kitchen." I introduced myself back.
He nodded. "Sorry for your loss," I nodded. "Your boyfriend here told me that you were with him yesterday night when the unfortunate event took place."
I glanced at Ricardo, wondering what he was doing by introducing himself as my boyfriend to the cop. He passed me back a bland look that almost made me pissed at him. I took my gaze back to Andrew and I noticed how he kept looking at the cop like he was spewing s**t.
"What. . .wait a minute, she isn't this dude's girlfriend," Andrew corrected the police man and I didn't know where to stand because Ricardo already painted me to be double-dating when in fact I wasn't. I never cheated. "She is my girlfriend."
Aiden looked confused. "I don't know about that," he said. "As I was saying, Miss kitchen, your boyfriend-"
"He isn't her boyfriend," Andrew told Aiden, his voice rising a notch. He looked at Ricardo, then at me. "Amber, tell him. Tell the cop, this guy here isn't your boyfriend, I am."
I sighed, holding my head. I was torn in-between picking Andrew — my real boyfriend, or picking Ricardo — my fake boyfriend. "Ricardo isn't my boyfriend-"
"But you were with me at my house throughout the night, right?" Ricardo said, giving me an indecipherable look. I knew what he was doing but I didn't know why he was doing it. "I am your boyfriend, right, Amber?" It didn't sound like a question. It sounded more like a declaration.
". . ." I couldn't find words to say. "Look, I don't care who's my boyfriend and who's not. Can't you guys be considerate here? I just lost my mother."
Andrew nodded, his eyes watering a bit. I felt really bad for throwing him under the bus. "I'm sorry. . .but you just lost me too." He left, leaving me alone with Aiden and Ricardo.
I deciphered the meaning to his words and came to understand what he meant by it. He dumped me all because of a lie Ricardo came up with. A lie I didn't have a hand in.
Aiden looked between Ricardo and I, and noticing the tense atmosphere between us, he left.
"This is all your fault!" I told Ricardo as soon as Aiden left. "Boyfriend? Really? You just made my real boyfriend break up with me."
Ricardo scoffed. I noticed he had a habit of doing so. "If he really trusted and loved you he wouldn't have abandoned you at such a crucial time of your life. Also it's obvious you don't like him, so why you mad?"
"He's my boyfriend, or at least he was, so what gives you the impression to think that I don't like him?"
"I didn't see the spark in your eyes when you looked at him."
I stared incredulously at him. "Spark? He wouldn't be my boyfriend if I didn't like him."
"Yeah, try deceiving yourself," he said. Moving closer to me, his voice went deeper. "And in case you've forgotten, Amber, I own you. Your life, it is on the palm of my hands. I can do to you as I please."
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