Wild Tiger Chase | Book #2 (Complete)

49: you can run but you can't hide (Part II)

— Léon - hours later, one AM sharp —

The voices sounded distant as if coming from behind a wall. Léon opened his eyes and the blurred shapes made more and more sense as he blinked.

"All I know is that this situation is awfully uncomfortable for my tastes." The first voice he heard belonged to Rafa.

"It might be for you, but I'm loving it." And this one to Phillip, hushed and soft.

Léon sat up, the bed creaking underneath his weight. When the dizziness passed, he sneaked towards the door. His breathing shallowed when he gripped the knob; this would be the first time he saw Rafa after everything that had happened.

He opened the door, but just enough to peek outside. The public emergency unity was a big square with a tropical garden in the middle. The rooms were built in the outside of the square, while the corridors in almost all of the floors were flanked on the other side by a half wall that faced the garden. Rafa and Phillip now leaned against one of these half walls, their silhouettes cut against the moonlight. The only thing Léon could see clearly was the plaster around Rafa's left arm, the feathery white lining their hair, and an orange glow between Rafa's fingers.

Phillip plucked the cigarette from her hand and took a puff. As he spoke, a weird-scented smoke escaped his lips and glared bright against the natural light.

"I love all the drama, the pain, the hurt... and the certainty that Jackal is out there, waiting for me to break every single tooth in her fucking mouth." Another puff.

"You can't be serious." Rafa took the cigarette from his hand. "We're bloody locked inside this bubble, mate; nothing but sitting ducks waiting for the hand that will take us to the kitchen."

Phillip stole the cigarette back before Rafa's lips could touch its silk. Ignoring her complaints, he pivoted around to rest his back against the railing. "You said Rio gave you memories of us, right? Stories I told, things I like, all that shit?"

"Yeah, for whatever reason." Rafa tried to get the cigarette back.

Instead of letting her, Phillip held her healthy wrist. "Then you must know me better than anyone here. You know things I didn't even have the courage to tell Léon—things only Rio knew about." He let her wrist go and offered her the cigarette.

She took it. "Do you think he was trying to tell us something? To help you, perhaps?"

Phillip shrugged. "Maybe? I don't know."

"Hum." Rafa faced the garden; she supported an elbow on the railing and her chin on the palm of her hand. "I hope so because I'm... I'm scared, Phillip. It's like you always told me... history repeats itself. And I don't want a repeat of this story."

Phillip placed a hand on her shoulder as his own sunk. "Hey, it's..."

"Don't tell me it's okay, mate. We know it's not." Rafa sighed. "I don't know what would've happened if Jackal hadn't stopped him. We..." She lowered her head even more. "We need to do something... because I don't think my brother can take this, Phil. None of us can. Not another Toni; not again."

Léon stumbled backward and fell on the bed. As his breathing quickened, his eyes welled up.

Not another Toni; not again.

He rubbed at his temples and pulled his covers over his head, trying to control his breathing. Besides the pain drilling his brain and how scrambled his memory felt, every time Léon closed his eyes, he saw red stains that diluting like droplets of blood in cold water. This wasn't normal; it couldn't be. Maybe he was losing control again.