Silva

Chapter Thirty-Five

• Irisa •

Seven Months Later

—

Sometime before the Norway trip and after the gun in my hand weighing down my hesitation, I stopped fighting the dreams of a future with Silva.

In a dream of maybe-maybe-maybe, I'd be able to say "I love you" without a liar's tongue. Back then, I would wake up in Silva's arms and couldn't remember how to say "good morning" without detachment.

Now that I'm here, in this witness protection house, for seven months without Silva or the slightest whisper of how he's doing—or if he's even alive. I would open my eyes to peony wallpapers, a bed that doesn't suit my body, and a sense of defensiveness.

"Can you breathe quietly?"

I slurp the smoothie loudly as I stare at the red-haired woman rubbing her head with a towel. Norine survived Silva's bullet, but the scar didn't heal properly when it got infected multiple times before it got better.

Norine turns to make her cup of morning coffee. Her tank top hides a portion of the scars on her back from the nail gun, and the white scars remind me of a constellation.

She pulled through surgery, fought her case on self-defense when she killed that serial killer to 'protect' me and convinced the court to be the live-in protection against Silva's mafia empire.

I know she's not here to protect me but rather to keep an eye on me if I were to do anything. Norine didn't defend my case when I was offered witness protection, however, she didn't fight to tell the judge about what truly happened.

I don't need witness protection from Silva because despite shooting him, my heart knows he will never hurt me.

"You're back early," I note as I finish the smoothie.

Norine folds the towel over her shoulders and enjoys her coffee while leaning on the counter.

"A sewer pipe burst on my running path," she says and chugs a mouthful of steaming coffee down her throat.

"No wonder it stinks." I gag as another whiff of rancid stench moves through the living room.

I snap my fingers. "Where's your partner?"

Norine wanders to the sink to wash her hands before flinging the moisture in a manner only a barbaric woman would do. She picks up an apple and takes a huge bite, considering her words carefully.

"The reason you accepted witness protection..." she begins with another bite into her scarlet apple. "Is it because you're scared of Silva?"

"You can spend time with him and see for yourself." I push the empty glass to the side and glance at the whipping ceiling fan.

It's hot, the house has broken air conditioning, and we can't open the window because of the sewage waste smell.

Whoever picked this tropical country to hide me from the mafia must be out of their mind. It's hot, humid, and cheerful every day. Everyone is too joyful under the sun that can roast their epidermis without sunscreen.

"Your location is compromised," Norine says truthfully. "Someone with internal access opened your file this week."

"You think it's Silva?" I ask, and I couldn't stop a wave of delight swirling in my stomach.

I lived for seven months in the dark; no news, electronics, and outside contact. I don't know what happened to Silva after I conveniently 'ran' into the first responders' cruiser and explained how I shot Silva to protect Norine because he shot her first.