The Protector 2

(Névtelen)-3

I smile gratefully, and as I go, I glance back at Rafe who is still sitting at the table, looking at us intently.

He looks worn-out. Of course, he is still impressive in his faded jeans, the leather jacket and the dark locks in his forehead, but his face is tired, his eyes have circles under them. I’m also totally exhausted, can’t wait to hit the sack, and I only realize now that Rafe is probably in the same state. We didn’t sleep much last night, and while I slept through half the journey, he practically drove all day. He helped me escape from the trap. He protected me from the assassins, kept my spirit up. He saved my life.

I want to say something to him, thank him for what he’s done. I actually want to hold him in my arms. Hug him tight, and continue what we started at the parking lot near the motorway, but I can’t. Not in front of his mother. I try to force a little smile on my face, and while following Anne out of the kitchen, I mouth a thank you to him.

By the time I finish showering and washing my hair, I can hardly stand on my feet. My body and soul are both begging for the calmness of a room. Anne has just thrown some of my stuff into the washing machine, so I have no other choice but to put on one of Rafe’s shirts that she has prepared for me. It passes for a nighty, hanging so loose on me. The last time I wore his stuff was at university. It feels strange, but so good and heart-warming. I actually want to ask him about his exact plans regarding Northern Ireland, but the deep weariness takes the better of me. As soon as I take a glance at the freshly made bed, it’s final: the conversation is put off to tomorrow. With a joyful sigh I get under the blanket, and turning on my side, I huddle up. I close my eyes and enjoy the peace and calm that surrounds me in this moment, but it doesn’t stay too long. My thoughts unwillingly drift back to the shelter house, and I relive all that happened at dawn. In my brain, I hear the echo of bullets crashing into the wall, and I see us with my mind’s eye as we crawl on the floor, trying to reach the bulletproof vehicle, which then breaks through the wall of the garage door with a big bang, escaping. Suddenly, my eyes pop open, and I stare into the darkness, blindly. I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to relive the trauma, but who can control their thoughts? The more I try not to think of a certain thing, the more it gets into my consciuousness, claiming itself more and more space. I take a few deep breaths, and knowingly begin to empty my brain. I need rest, I must sleep, but with the scary images in my head, it’s almost impossible. I’m not thinking about anything. I’m not thinking about anything – I say the mantra, which causes me to think of Rafe and the night before. This is still a better alternative than the machine-gunned assassins, so I picture him leaning over me with his hot and hard torso pressing me under him.

My careworn body and mind finally give up and exhaustion conquers. I fall fast asleep.

Rafe

While my mother is busy with Raven and prepares a bed for her in my old room, I park the car into the garage, so it won’t be a spectacle tomorrow at sunrise. If my plan works out and we can fly to Northern Ireland, then Raven will need a few personal items from her home. I’ve already sent word to Sandro and given him a short account of the developments. I’m sure the news wrecked a havoc in the family, and I’m dead certain they are furious, as they have no idea about our location. Now that a bit of calmness surrounds me at last, I drop onto a chair with exhaustion, and fish the mobile out of my pocket. I assume they won’t be overjoyed about the idea, but I don’t give a s**t. I’ve seen with my own eyes how much they adore Raven, and I’m damn sure they’d give their blood to save her; this is the only reason I trust them. I have the feeling the mole is not in the smallest Bertone circle.

Sandro yells into the phone after two rings. From the fact that his phone didn’t show a number, he could be sure about the identity of the caller.

“Is that you, Harlan? f**k you. I swear I’ll tear your heart out with my own hands if Raven has been harmed. Where the f**k…“ he stutters with a loud voice, but I stop him.

“Hold on for a damn minute, and listen to me.”

“f**k it, man! Get it out, already.”

“Raven is well, she hasn’t been wounded. She’s safe.”

A sigh of relief and some cursewords come as a response. I perfectly understand his feelings.

“Is she with you?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you?”

“In safety.”

“Don’t f**k with me, Harlan!” he snorts threateningly.

“I won’t, but it’s best if nobody knows about our location.”

“What about your men?”

“I’ve sent them away.”

“What the f**k happened?”

I dig into my hair and place my elbows onto the table with exhaustion.

“Someone has turned us in. We were attacked at the shelter house.”

“How the f**k could that happen?”

“Try to think. Who else knew about the issue?”

“Other than Chris and I, my parents. And Enrico,” he adds.

“Who the hell is that?”

“My father’s right hand. His trustee, his friend.”

“Is he really trustworthy?”

“I could trust him with my life. As a child, Raven played with his daughter. He’s practically family.”

“Okay,” I sigh with tiredness. “but there’s still a damn mole somewhere.” We are both quiet for a while before I speak again. “What do you know about Raven’s boyfriend?”

“Johnny?” comes the surprised question. “Not much. We’ve only met once, briefly.”

“Raven spoke to him on the phone from the house.”

“f**k it. What did she say to him?”

“How the hell do I know?” I snort with irritation. “By the time I took the phone from her, it was too late.”

“Okay. Chris and I will both check on the little prick. It’s all settled,” he mumbles with threat, and I can almost see his hand making a fist. I am very close to smiling. I can understand it. “But until then…”

“We’re leaving the country,” I interrupt, not allowing for any objection.

“What? How the f**k do you mean that?”

“In two days the latest, as soon as I get all the paperwork done.”

“Harlan!” he murmurs into the device, and I can hear he’s really cross.

“In the present situation, this is the best we can do. If you calm down a little and think, you’ll see I’m right.” A noise of loud panting, a thud and footsteps come from the phone. I’m aware that he’s in a struggle with his temper. If our positions were reversed, I’d also hate that I’m vulnerable and can’t do anything. “As long as she’s with me, she’ll be safe. I’ll do anything for her.”

“Of f**k,” he mumbles, but now he sounds more resigned. “Where are you taking her?”

I’m massaging the back of my neck while pulling a face. I know he’ll understand me.

“Back to the roots. Where only one person knows her.”

Sandro is silent for a while, then moans loudly.

“All right. What can I do? What do you guys need?”

“I’ll let you know when we are ready to leave.”

“You’ll take the private jet.”

“Okay,” I give in. This is definitely a good and useful idea. This will make the paperwork easier too, and our journey will be harder to track. “I’ll send word as soon as we are ready. Oh,” I scratch my forehead, “and Raven will need a few personal belongings.”

“Not a problem. Mum will pack everything.”

“Great.”

“Rafe!”

“What?”

“I want to speak to her.”

“That can’t happen now,” I shake my head.

“And why not?” he asks with anger.

“She’s in the shower. Anyway, she’s knackered.”

There is a few seconds of silence.

“Keep your f*****g d**k in your pants, Harlan. Am I clear?” Sandro he articulates slowly.

I swallow before answering.

“Yes. It’s clear.”

I press the button to finish the call. As I stare at the screen, I realize that I’m f*****g dead.

“There’s a problem, right?” my mother asks as she pours some tea for herself and sits down at the table beside me.

I give her a sharp look, then tiredly close my eyes.

“Is she okay?” I ask, instead of answering.

“In the given circumstances, yes. She’s a strong girl.”

“She is,” I reply, with a much softer voice. When I see that my mother is still looking at me expectantly from behind the rim of her glass, I begin to talk reluctantly.

“Raven can’t help all of this. It’s not her fault that some people are after her. Some bastards want to finish her.”

“But why?” she asks, aghast.

“It’s complicated. Her family is a member of the Cosa Nostra in Philadelphia. Her father and uncle were in some deep s**t a while back, and the rival family wants to get even by killing her.”

“That’s terrible. Poor girl,” she shakes her head with horror. Then she begins to scratch at her eyebrows. “Raven, Raven,” she says cautiously. “Tell me, isn’t she that girl, by any chance?”

“Mum,” I roll my eyes, suddenly feeling fifteen again.

“I remember this name from your university years. And I can quite clearly recall how much you were in love with someone called…”

“Okay,” I lift up my hands with resignation. “All right, it’s her. Raven Bertone is the same girl I-I-I was… at St. Thomas, back then, I-I-I was…”

“You were in love with,” she finishes the sentence.

I open my mouth to speak, then close it. It would be hard to give a different explanation. I was blindly in love at the time.

“Things have changed since,” I reply sadly, and run my fingers through my hair.

“I remember,” my mother starts pensively, “you were really on the floor when it was over. I couldn’t even speak to you for months.”

“It was because of a stupid misunderstanding. It was all my fault. Or, most of it. I’ll tell you some other time,” I shake my head, because whenever I remember the things I did on that Halloween night, I’m about to get sick. I get up and take the milk carton from the fridge. I silently pour myself a glass.

“This thing with Raven… is it business or something private?” my mother continues to nag me.

It’s something I myself need to think about. For sure, it started as business, but by now, everything has changed. As a matter of fact, it changed the moment she entered Bertone’s office, and I recognized her. I would do anything for her, and it has nothing to do with business.

“It’s both,” I answer, somewhat distorting the truth. “It started as an average job, but I had no idea who it was we had to protect. I had already said yes to the work when it turned out who it was.”

“Didn’t you know her family?”

I shake my head painfully.

“I had no clue her family was linked to the mafia. She made sure to keep it a secret from me.”

“She was scared your feelings might change if you found out?”

“Things changed between us anyway, for the very reason that I had known nothing about it.”

“I’m sorry, son,” she smiles wistfully. “Life doesn’t always happen as we want it, but everybody deserves a second chance.