Part
I:
Tristan
drove home five minutes to ten pm. He made it a point to check back on Reeya before
and was more than ecstatic to see her being her bubbly self. She was a little
sleepy, yes, but cheerful nonetheless. They had another heart-melting
conversation about everything and anything at the same time, and he found out
small details about her. Lots more details.
She
timidly told him that she had recently – and be ‘recently’ Tristan didn’t know when exactly, and he didn’t push it –
discovered a love for painting. She was still learning, and would love an
opportunity for improvement.
Time
flew by so fast that he didn’t notice he was way behind his curfew. Extending
thirty more minutes, he finally forced himself to say goodnight to her and go
out of the room. Seeing her use the blankets he have her provided him a sense
of comfort in the thought that she’ll sleep peacefully this night. After that,
Tristan hopped into his Sedan.
The
sound of the honk from the car behind him made him jump out of his skin.
Blinking rapidly, he shook his head to clear his churning thoughts; ever since
he saw what happened to his office at the hospital, he felt that a dark shadow
has been hovering over him, watching his every move. It rattled him.
Not after you, he
told himself in his mind, not you. He
kept on repeating this mantra until he was only a block away from his home. The
whole area was quiet and he only had the streetlights and the car’s headlights to
be his guide. He was used to going back to his home at late hours, but at
times, he couldn’t help but crave for company, especially when fatigue overpowered
him, and when his patient’s conditions were deteriorating.
Patients, as
soon as he thought of the word, a particular pretty face leapt up to all the
corners of his mind’s eye.
Then,
with more conviction than ever, he thought, not
after you. Not you.
Part
II:
After
he had a quick bath, Tristan settled himself in front of his fire in the living
room. It was the only thing giving off warmth in this windy evening, and so he
huddled close to it, still wearing his bathrobe as he thought of things.
The
list of things he had put in his mind were coming back at him with rushing
speed. He found out that she loves to paint, to read, to learn. She also loves ice creams. Most of all, the things occupying
him right now were her slowly receding eyebags, her gaining more weight, more
time on being her bubbly self, and her smiles.
How
can he make those things better?
More time, he
suddenly thought, more time with her. And
also, he’d definitely have to but a canvas and an easel. He didn’t particularly
care about the price, seeing as his salary was quite – well, exorbitant – so
tomorrow, he’ll have to go to the mall. He’d pay the painting stuff with his debit
card –
Card.
Debit card. His insurances, IDs, basically everything.
Tristan
cursed. He forgot they were gone. Luckily, he’d left a stash of money inside
his bedroom, but until he ran out, he had to find out who was his in his
office.
Enemies?
As
soon as he thought of the word, chills danced up his spine. It seems that the
one who ransacked his place really wasn’t after the money, or his items – Nika
assured him that they were still there, although broken, and he verified that for
himself – they were after him; information about him.
Tristan
couldn’t begin to fathom what they were interested in. His life was utterly
normal – he grew up in Washington with his parents, graduated school with
flying colors, took medicine – really, he didn’t even have a brush with the
law, legal or otherwise.
So why me? he
thought. Why my office?
Reeya.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that it had something to do with her, but human
traffickers from Bosnia going here to wreck his dingy office, find his credit
cards and legal papers was just too absurd for him to handle. More than that,
his gut feeling told him this was something else entirely.
Tristan
forced himself to prioritize, and the first thing that came to his mind were
the canvas and easel. He’d buy those in the morning and some of his other
necessities, then go to Reeya.
Technically,
Saturdays were his day-off from work, but he couldn’t bear the thought of not
seeing her. He knew he’d worry his heart out, and he wanted to guard her,
anyway. If his hut was wrong, and it was indeed the people from her past, he
wouldn’t let them breathe within a mile from her in all directions. They’d have
to go through him first.
He
licked hi upper lip. There’s also another matter aside from the complete destruction
of his office.
He
knew his situation, so to say – the personal one – with Reeya, was certainly
far from healthy. But he couldn’t help it.
Giving
up, he stood up from his stool and went to his bed. He watched the dying embers
in his fireplace as his exhausted body lulled him to sleep.
Part
III:
“You
really didn’t have to wreck his office, Manuel.”
The
wiry man in front of the desk smiled slightly, “I’m sorry, sir. Old habits do die hard.” He paused then went on, “Devon
didn’t report anything, though. He just had the place cleaned up. Didn’t notify
anyone at all.”
“And
you find this strange?”
“No,
sir.”
“No?”
The man lifted an eyebrow, turning his ballpoint pen with his fingers, “And why
is that?”
Manuel
cleared his throat before speaking, “By his disposition, sir, I think he’ll
want to find out what really happened for himself. He won’t involve other
people, I’m sure of that.”
“I
see.” A pregnant pause hung in the air, until the person of higher power spoke
again, “Is our friend still covered? No one suspects him at all?”
“Yes,
sir. Not one.”
“Good,”
he set the pen on the desk, “You can go now. Thank you, Manuel.”
“Yes,
sir.” Manuel stood up and exited the room.
As
soon as the door clicked shut, the lone person in the room grabbed a remote
device from the coffee table and pressed a few buttons. Instantly, the door was
locked, the heavy drapes covered the glass windows, and the chandelier in the middle
of the room shone a notch brighter.
He
turned to his left and steered his office chair towards the computer, which was
on multiple-monitor setup. On the monitors were all the information gathered on
Tristan Devon, his handsome face shown on the rightmost panel of the middle
screen.
The
unknown person shook his head.
“There
will be no touching my girl, Doctor Devon. No touching.”
No comments:
Post a Comment