by Rimmy London
With a screech of metal, Givanni stood, and his chair fell back with a clang. A few men walked forward, coming around the sides of the table. My heart jumped to my throat to see Givanni raise his hands, backing away and searching the fourteen faces opposite him.
“Many of you know me.” He breathed, walking as if on glass. “And I can see what’s happening here. You need a leader who will remain constant—who will keep you safe. If you join with me that’s what I can promise.”
One man came forward, his average height and baby blue eyes matching the distinct pout of his lips. He spoke in Italian, gesturing to me and taking a step closer. After one glance at the alarmed look on Givanni’s face, I backed away from everyone. But the fair man with blue eyes didn’t react—he only waited. Givanni’s glance changed and was suddenly full of warmth When he turned back he replied in Italian.
I caught bits and pieces, but it didn’t make sense. From what I could make out, it wasn’t an argument. They sounded almost like friends. But the sentiment wasn’t shared by the group, and a mumbled impatience grew. It seemed a conversation was going on, as men shuffled to one side or the other. I watched, measuring eyes and faces until I thought sure I knew which was sympathetic to us.
Givanni stepped to one side. “Senza armi.” He lifted his hands up again, showing his palms. Reluctantly one man moved, then another. As they approached the table they dropped their weapons atop, and I began to understand.
“Loriel, go,” Givanni spoke without looking at me, still keeping his eyes on the group opposite him. I felt completely helpless, but what use was I in a fight? Besides that, the eyes that turned in my direction, especially on one side of the room, were malicious. Backing to the door, I gasped when Marco grabbed my arms and practically threw me out the doorway. I stumbled into the hall, managing to keep my feet under me.
“Forgive me.” He mumbled, before taking his gun out of his jacket and making for the table. The door swung closed, and my breath gusted in the quiet. Would he really fight his own nephew? The silence only lasted a moment, until shouts and commotion rang out. Frantically, I ran to the small window in the door, hardly able to see through its warped glass. But I could make out Givanni. He moved through man after man, ducking fists. Marco’s solid outline I could also see, as he watched from the side.
Behind me, airplanes sat as still as holograms, pointed in various directions with sirens continuing to blare from their speakers and red lights flashing. There was nothing else I could do—I had to go in and help. The memory of a self-defense class at a local gym was all the training I had, and my laugh turned into tremors as I twisted the handle. There was still enough commotion that it went unnoticed when the door inched open. I could see the discoloration on Givanni’s face, and one brow that was beginning to swell. But he also looked… energized.
As he beat each opponent, they would back away and stand behind him. There were only three men left opposite him, and I felt my pulse quicken as another man stepped aside Givanni, leaving only two. But the last man ducked under Givanni’s swing and dove for the table. He snatched up a gun and whipped it around.
Marco gripped his hand from behind, lifting him up gun and all, and slammed him back on the ground. The man didn’t move. Twisting the gun from his grip, Marco tossed it onto the table. “Questo era l’accordo.” He warned, and then glancing at me. “That was the agreement.”
The room, at last was still. Givanni stood at the head of thirteen men. Marco was the only man opposite them, but he looked far too relaxed to be anticipating a fight. A conversation began in Italian, Marco and Givanni receiving nods from the group, and at times only silence.
I still stood in the open doorway, and my head swung around as a group of policemen charged from the airport. “Guys,” I yelled. The roomful of men turned to me. “They’re coming, let’s go.” A few of the men smiled, but no one objected.
Givanni and Marco split off together, joining me, and the rest of the group left through the back. I assumed they had an exit planned, as none of them looked alarmed. In fact, they looked at ease—far different than the faces I’d first seen. “What was that?” I asked Givanni, amazed that he had turned the entire room into allies.
He grinned back at me, and shook Marco’s hand. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
Marco reached for my arm, and I jerked it away. “I only wanted to apologize Ella,” he said. “I have a position, and people need to believe it. But thanks to Givanni, it looks like that may be coming to an end.” His eyes were soft, and although he didn’t reach for me again, he held one hand out for a moment.
I placed mine in his, squeezing briefly before whisking my hand away—It still wasn’t making sense.
A shout came from police, and it was clear they were getting closer. Marco and Givanni made eye contact briefly and then Marco made for the building.
“C’mon Loriel, let’s go.” Givanni said, taking my hand. There was one small plane idling on the runway, and we ran straight for it. “This is Marco’s,” he huffed, “I’ll explain everything later.”
I glanced behind us, seeing two policeman stopped and watching. One raised his hand, and I smiled. “Since when does Max work with the police force?”
Givanni’s head swung around, and he laughed. “Max does what he does.”
I pulled the door to the cockpit closed, and we fastened our seatbelts with a simultaneous click.
And then we stopped—both of us stared out the windshield at the sun and blue sky as shock swirled around us. “Will they let us take off?” I asked, looking at the empty runway and stalled planes.
Givanni held down his radio button. “Are we cleared for takeoff?” he asked, shrugging at me.
The radio buzzed for a moment. “You’re cleared… enjoy your trip… best of luck you two.”
I swung around, “Boswik?” I asked, only getting a grin in return. “I can’t believe it,” I laughed. “Where will we go?” Givanni took the controls and the plane moved forward. We sped down the runway—me with the feeling that everything was at a standstill except us.
“Actually, I do have a place we could go,” Givanni finally answered. “We just need to stay away for a while… if you want. I have a friend who said he could help. You don’t have to come with me, but I…” The sentence trailed off, and he looked like he didn’t know what else to say.
We lifted into the air, and I knew that whether we were headed to a jungle or an iceberg, my answer would be the same.
“Let’s get outta here.”
Chapter 28
The wind whistled relentlessly, and I pulled the hood tighter around my shivering frame, appreciating the warmth of fur around my face. With each glance at the deep green hills below us, I hoped the intense cold was merely due to the small two-passenger plane. So far, England wasn’t at all what I had imagined.
I wiggled my toes, trying to rub some life into them. “So you say it’s close?” I yelled, glancing again at the beautiful but barren landscape. There seemed to be only hills and small clumps of trees scattered about. Not a house in sight.
Givanni’s smile widened, and his eyes were teasing. I waited for some type of response until my lips twisted with impatience and I leaned towards him. The few inches between us were easily crossed.
“Where are you taking me?” I whispered, enjoying the way he flinched at my breath in his ear. He laughed, rubbing his shoulder against it. The plane tilted, revealing the entire horizon, and still, I saw nothing that would be considered shelter.
Our descent was quick, and when the small wheels struck ground we bounced for nearly the entire landing—finally still when the plane jerked to a stop. Hills surrounded us—small and varied, but enough that our view was blocked in any direction.
I looked back at our landing strip, a smooth section of grass. It was impressive that he could land on it, and that we’d stopped in the ideal spot. But I wasn’t about to tell him that. I wasn’t about to tell him anything—not until he started talking. I unbu
ckled the wide strap that had likely saved me from being shaken to pieces and turned in my seat.
He was busy putting the plane to sleep—turning this and locking that. My seat squeaked as I curled my legs up under me and watched him. His hair had fallen in his face, and it struck me how much longer it had gotten. It’d been so long since I’d really paid attention. The strands were wavy and lightened at the ends, determined to escape whenever he brushed his hand in any given direction. But it suited him. In fact, it calmed down the CEO look he’d mastered so well. I very much approved.
“Well?” He asked, turning to me amidst my complete adoration of him. I cleared my throat, shaking up the melting brain in my head. What was it I wanted? I looked out the window just to escape his eyes and waved my hand across the view like it should be obvious.
“Ah yes,” He mocked, clearly enjoying this mystery. “Let’s take a stroll, shall we? Cheerio.”
I laughed out loud, “Oh, no, no—don’t go getting all English on me.”
“And just what in heaven's name is wrong with English?” He smiled a crooked smile while I pulled my bag from the back.
“Well, nothing is wrong, except for the fact that you aren’t.”
He laughed, throwing a bag over his shoulder and pulling a knit hat over his head. His hair still escaped in a few sections, just below the fold of yarn. This new version of Givanni walked closer to me and I tried to appear completely unaware—which was a feat.
“Lascia andare trovo, bella signora.” He smoothed, each word saturated and deep.
I laughed—the air escaping like it’d been trapped. “See?” I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “Now that suits you.”
We each adjusted the sturdy packs, situating straps and buckles until they were perfect. “Let’s head this way, I really want you to get a good look.” I raised my eyebrows at Givanni and he laughed, pulling me into his arms. “Just be patient this once. Let me surprise you.” He kissed me with a smile still on his lips. “You won’t regret it.”
“Okay.” I sighed, sure that if he thought it merited this much anticipation it had to be incredible.
The air felt good—heavy with the smell of nature. Boswik, or perhaps a secretary, had overloaded both our bags with clothing and whatever we might need over the next few weeks. Whoever it was, they were a talented shopper. I admired the tan boots, with some plaid cotton escaping at the ankle—they were perfect. There was no trail that I could make out, but Givanni walked confidently up the hill.
The cold had left a mist between warm and chilled air that hung suspended between some imaginary line. Under it was a valley of green, and here and there a small cropping of trees gathered together. A lake had begun to show itself in the distance, reflecting a slight tint of pink from the coming sunset. It was like a sanctuary. From life. From the world... from everything.
I looked at Givanni as he plodded ahead, and how his face mirrored mine—we needed this. I dug my toes in, climbing the hill and breathing hard until we were side by side. Taking hold of his hand, we finally reached the top and stopped to admired the valley below. The village nestled throughout was picturesque. Each cottage was built with stone—some white and some red, while rooftops were a deep earthy brown.
“Amazing,” I breathed, taking it in. Givanni’s hands rested on my shoulders, and he turned me slightly west, toward the lake that was now entirely visible. In the center was an island, raised up proudly and boasting a thick landscape of trees. The top of a chimney showed above the tree line with a lazy stream of smoke escaping. I turned to him with the question in my eyes, but I didn’t need to ask. He was proudly smiling the answer back at me.
“Let’s go,” He whispered, keeping my hand and leading me to a trail. The dirt underfoot had become mud that quickly caked the bottom of my boots. I looked down at the sloppy mess, only to hear a whiney from not far ahead. Two horses stood tied to a post, flicking their tails pleasantly and watching us with interest. Givanni laughed. “I admit I’ve never been to England, but I have a friend here who outdid himself, judging from the look on your face.”
Atop our horses, we followed a dirt trail that wound its way to the edge of the lake. A tiny dock came into view with one small boat tied to its post. “We definitely owe your friend one.” I laughed. “This is the physical image of perfect.”
The closer we came to the small boat, the more I smiled. It was rickety and tied with an old frayed rope, but it was heaven. Our horses walked a lazy step forward, and we didn’t rush them. With each step, another fear blew away in the breeze. The air had calmed even my hair so that it hung lower than usual and swung across my back almost to my hips. “Givanni,” I said quietly, like a gust of wind.
When he turned to me it was only a look that he responded with. The same tranquil stillness that had settled over me seemed blanketed over him as well. There was nothing else I wanted to say, only to acknowledge him. He watched me with happiness in his eyes, even as I dropped my head back and closed my eyes. My cares from the last few days cascaded down my back like a shower, and when I looked again he still gazed over me.
My lips lifted in a smile. The road ahead of us seemed lined with silk, and as I leaned against the splintered sides of our boat I doubted the smile would ever completely leave my face.
We had finally disappeared.
* * *
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Acknowledgments
A very special thank you to my family who deals with my occasional hermit ways in order to make this story happen. I love you!
