Chapter 7
Stop struggling. It'll be over soon . . .
I tightened my grip on the wire, making stammered gasps as I tried to stop his breathing & end it all. His hand was squeezing mine & the other was trying to loosen the wire around his neck. Then he stopped moving. His eyes were wide open & sweat was beading down his face & soaked his hair. His grip on my hand loosened. He had finally gave in. But I still held the wire tight just to make sure he was really dead. After a few seconds of no movement, I let go, got off his bare back, & fell onto the other side of the bed. The struggle he gave me had worn me out. I was even surprised he lasted that long.
I let the sheets' coolness cool my back. I lifted my mask & rubbed the sweat from my face.
"You have one more mission before you can take a break," Donovan's words were pestering me the whole night.
I never had a break from any of this, but he was willing to give me one. He said I needed it & patted me on the shoulder. And I knew exactly why he was willing to give me one. He needed time to plan something for me, something big, I knew. Something I wouldn't like. And he also needed time get things situated & figure them out. If I stayed, I would get in the way of all of that.
He's going to make me go after Bayman, I know it.
I turned my head to look at that handsome man I had to kill. He still held the same look when he died just a few minutes ago. His mouth slightly open, his black hair wet with sweat, his eyes wide & staring back into mine, & his hand over the wire.
It's too bad. He was cute & he's probably not even twenty yet . . . I wonder what he did to Donovan . . .
I sat up, got off the bed, & then left. My job was done.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I entered the pool area in my red bikini with my towel over my shoulder & sun block lotion in one hand. There was nobody there yet so I was the first. I sat down on one of the lodge chairs by the diving boards & started to rub the lotion on my skin, ignoring my bruises for now. I laid back onto the lodge chair & closed my eyes when I was done.
Hopefully, I'll get some rest.
I was on my break. The first & probably my last so I'd decided to enjoy it while it lasted. But Donovan's plans never left my mind. As soon as my break was over, I would have to encounter them.
When I was almost asleep, the sounds of a guitar woke me back up. I opened my eyes fully.
Who is that?!
It was coming from the beach just behind the pool area. I sat up so I could see who it was, but the flowers that decorated the pool area got in my way. I stood up & used my hands as a shade for my eyes from the sun. I spotted a man sitting under a palm tree, strumming on something. I squinted so I could get a closer look at the man. I could tell he was wearing just black shorts, had black hair & a muscular build, but that was it.
Bayman?!
It did look like him.
How many times have I run into him in the most remote places?! Is he following me?!
I remembered what Donovan had said about him earlier. So there was a good chance he was following me. I started out of the pool area & into the beach where he was. Maybe I would get to ask him why. When I was finally reached him, I was just a few feet away & it seemed as if he didn't notice me. I studied the instrument he was playing. It was triangular with three strings.
What the hell is that? That's not a guitar.
The music stopped.
"What do you want?" I looked up at him from the instrument & saw him looking at me.
I sat down beside him & looked down at the instrument, "What is that?"
He looked down at it, "A balalaika."
"A what?"
"Bahl-ah-like-kah."
"Oh . . ."
He ignored me & continued playing.
"That's nice. It sounds like a guitar a bit," I said as soon as he finished.
"It's all I know," he said back.
I looked up at him from the balalaika, "What's all you know."
"The song I just played."
". . . Who taught you?"
"No one."
"I see."
"My mother use to play it for me. I'm surprised I remembered how she played it . . ."
"You're close to your mother?"
". . ."
I looked up at him from the instrument & saw him staring off into the ocean with a frown on his face.
Best not to ask . . .
I wasn't exactly close to my parents. They probably forgot I even existed & had other children to spoil by then.
During my childhood, I had no friends except for one. But she soon moved away, leaving me in England with the children who kept away from me in the schoolyard. She was the only one who was bold enough to talk to me. I had a long, black mane back then that my parents did nothing with & silver eyes. That was why no one wanted to approach me. I was abnormal. I looked nothing like my parents or relatives. I remembered one boy calling me a freak right in my face when I accused him of stealing something of mine during class. I remember crying in my bed, so fed up with all the insults. I thought of ways to kill each & every kid in that class who ooed when that boy insulted me. I thought of sneaking into their homes & putting mercury in their milk. I knew where most of them lived. It was a small neighborhood. Or just taking bombs from my grandfather & just blow up the whole school. But I wasn't bold enough to do anything like that.
And my parents weren't exactly happy with me either. I was different & what they didn't want. Come to think of it, Donovan was my only family & friend. I met in a busy street at night. He witnessed me push a man & argue with him for not watching where he was going. The man was probably twice my size, but I didn't care. I was having a bad day. I argued with my parents & left home that night. Donovan had told me that I could put my bravery & anger to good use. Following him, I learned she quan from a Chinese couple who lived out in the wilderness of China somewhere. I cut my hair & dyed it white so I would have nothing to remind me of my childhood when I look into a mirror.
I slumped against the palm tree & looked up at the blue sky. There were only a few clouds & the sun was bright as always. The air smelt of the ocean & all there was to hear was Bayman's playing, the wind, & the seagulls. I closed my eyes.
Maybe I'll get some rest here & forget all my troubles . . .
But Bayman stopped playing that continuous song from his mother. I opened my eyes & looked up & over at him. He looked down at me. I asked him what it was, but he just said nothing. Something was bothering him, I could tell.
He set the balalaika in the sand, crossed his arms, & started looking around the beach. I sat up after noticing he wasn't going to continue playing anymore. I picked the instrument up & started fiddling with it. My strumming didn't sound anything like Bayman's. I was just plucking the strings not caring what notes came out. He obviously saw this & stared at me. I felt a smile tug at my cheeks.
"Well, I don't know how to play it," I stated, smiling widely & set the balalaika back in the sand.
Stop smiling!
My smile disappeared. I saw him grin then turn back around.
He smiled at me.
I hadn't seen him grin like that except the time at Dalian, but that was more of a smirk then a grin. That was something I'd expect someone to think of me. I rarely smiled, because I never had a reason to.
Is it the same for him . . .? Well, whatever, stop thinking like that.
I slumped onto the palm tree again with my arms crossed. I was alone with Bayman again & had nothing to say. I would've asked him why he was here, but I knew he would lie. He's an adversary of Donovan, of coarse, he wouldn't tell me.
"So you're staying at the hotel as well, huh?" I asked him.
"Yeah, I am," he replied.
"Which room?"
". . ."
Wrong question.
He wouldn't tell me, because he probably thought I told Donovan all about him & now he wants me to kill him.
But I know he's not afraid of me, right?
"Why do you want to know?" he asked me, dusting some sand off his shorts.
"Because I want to know how close it is to mine," I answered.
He turned to look me in the eye, "206"
"Oh. I'm on the floor just below you, 128," I said, rubbing my thigh to see if my skin was still oily from the lotion.
What else can I ask him?
I didn't want him to leave. I needed to know more about him. I looked at him, examining his build. The same build that I wanted to touch that one night . . .
Wait, I don't even know how old he is!
"How old are you?" I asked with my arms behind my head.
He hesitated for a second, "Thirty-one."
God, is he that old?!
My eyes were wide & my mouth was open without me knowing it.
"Are you serious?!" I asked him on all fours & in his face with a big grin on my face.
He looked at me like I was a big idiot & I was acting like one, "How old are you?"
I sat down in front of him with my knees bent, "Twenty-four."
He had a surprised look on his face then looked down at the sand.
Is he ashamed that he's seven years older than me?
"But you don't look it," I said, smirking at him.
He looked up at me with the same smirk then said with sarcasm, "Right."
"I mean it . . ." my face turned serious.
His smirk disappeared when he realized I really did mean it.
I wiped some sweat from my forehead, "It's really hot out here. I'd die for something to drink."
Bayman picked up his balalaika & stood up.
"Where're you going?" I asked him as I stood up as well.
I realized I was sounded a bit frantic.
"To the pool," he looked over at me, "Where there're drinks."
He walked off towards the pool, expecting me to follow him & I did.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I watched the sun set through my balcony window as I sat at the table in my hotel room. I sipped my tomato juice then set it back down. I swayed the long sleeve of my negligee around as I watched the last glimpse of the sun's light fall behind the horizon. It was finally dark, but I wasn't even the slightest bit tired. I finished the rest of my tomato juice & then got up to turn off the lights. I crawled into my bed & attempted to go to sleep.
Bayman . . . Why is he suddenly coming into my head?
I opened my eyes wide, but soon closed them.
He smiled at me.
My eyes opened again.
I am not having these thoughts right now.
I closed my eyes.
Is he ashamed that he's seven years older then me?
I opened my eyes & rolled over onto my back. I wasn't going to get any sleep that night.
"You don't look it . . . I meant it . . ." I remembered saying.
That probably changed everything.
"So what's this you have with Bayman? Trust, understanding, or is it friendship?" Donovan had asked me.
Even though I said neither, I was starting to believe I was wrong.
I don't know what it is . . .
I got out of bed then made my way out of the room & down the hallway to the elevators.