The President's Son: Lt. Juan Bustamante

23

JANELLE

I wonder where we're going. He did not tell me. When we left the house of the General, he just handed to me my helmet and off we went. I looked at my details and saw them scurried to their cars. Even his details scratched their heads but followed us too. But I know if you're riding a car and try to outrun a bike, if not in the movies, you definitely won't be able to. He's driving crazy in Manila's traffic. And all I could do is cling to him for dear life. He's wearing jeans and  poloshirt. As I wrapped my arms around his waist, I could feel his muscles flex under his shirt as he tries to manuever the big bike. He is wearing a helmet matching mine. Every inch of my front is pressed against his back and as I looked at at our reflection from one of the cars that we passed by, we're like lovers perfectly molded together. When we stopped on an intersection and let the pedestrians cross the street, he leaned his back at me and put his hand over my clasped hands on his stomach. I don't know why he did it, unconsciously? But that little gesture sent tiny electric waves to my whole body and automatically my traitor of a body leaned closer to him. I wanted to see his expression but our helmets prevented us from it.

When the traffic started to move, he squeezed my arm once again and fired the engine of his motorbike. It took as another quarter of an hour to reach our destination. He entered a secluded property at the countryside. He was about to get off when a man about 40 or 40 plus came running to the gate. Yuan removed his helmet and shouted something in Tagalog and the old man upon seeing him rushed to the gate and rattled the keys tto open it. I heard Yuan said Thank you to him and the older man answered, Welcome Ser.

He drove to the back of the house and parked there. He handed the helmet to the little boy who came to hug his leg. He went down on his knee to talk to the little boy who was no older than 8 years old. He gave him a hundred peso bill and let the boy hug him. Yuan took my helmet and an older young girl shyly approached us. He gave the helmet to the girl and he gave her the same amount of money. The little girl shyly smiled and stretched her hand to get Yuan's hand and pressed it to her forehead, Yuan murmured "God Bless you."

"Let's go in!"

"Where are we?"

"At my resthouse, get away house, whatever you call it. My details know this but will not let anyone know where I am. So rest assured your details will not be able to come here, the PSG won't tell them, unless they will ask Dad and the president will let the psg show them where. But as of now, where no where to be found."

We entered the house and the man who opened the gate came in, he did not even look at me. He smiled in my direction but did not look me in the eye, maybe as respect? He looked at Yuan and Yuan instructed him commands to which I heard the man say Yes Ser. His name is Albert. Then we went upstairs to the veranda overlooking the vast ricefield at the back of the house.

"Is this yours?"

"Yes. My grandfather gave me and Miggy this property on our 18th birthday. We used our graduation gifts to build the house. So this is Miggy and Mine and no one else's."

"Very nice and big."

"Gramps is a generous gift giver. You want something?"

"Nope. Not really. Water will do."

He disappeared and came back after a couple of minutes with bottled water and glass.

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Next Chapter is not for readers 71 and below hahahahaz as if!