Two months later…
Darwin opened the curtains in the kitchen and looked out at the morning sunshine. He loved turning off the night lights in the morning and letting in the bright sunshine.
It had been a long, hard road since the night at the hangar. He was writing again and loving it, even though he wrote under a pseudonym.
Rosina really enjoyed her new home in sunny Florida.
The FBI had thrown them into the witness protection program within two weeks of Fuccini’s death.
The two bikers that had been tied up and gagged were gunned down within days of each other, and Darwin’s name was scrawled across their chests in blood.
Richard H went into hiding, but they found him a week later. He fought hard and killed four men with his bare hands, even after they shot him three times. Darwin visited him in the hospital. H would live and walk again. The FBI were putting him into the program too.
When Darwin went to visit H in the hospital, they tried to kill Darwin again. But they’d made a mistake. A man posing as a doctor turned on Darwin with a long needle and charged at him.
At the sight of the needle, all Darwin saw was blind rage. He lunged at the doctor. That lunge saved him as the needle had been thrust forward and when Darwin dove, it passed his arm by an inch.
The fake doctor’s neck had broken when he was thrown out the fourth story hospital window. How he was already missing fingers and one eye, Darwin claimed he had no idea. He couldn’t remember much after seeing the needle.
The FBI, for the public’s safety, and Darwin’s, had elected that he and his wife, Rosina, would have to go into hiding for good.
They allowed Darwin and H to email each other as H was detailing his life story so Darwin could write the promised book, which Darwin was writing with vigor.
“Another beautiful day,” Rosina said as she entered the kitchen. “What’s for breakfast?”
“I thought you said you were making breakfast this morning?” Darwin pleaded.
“I am, I am. I’m just joking. We’re married now, Mr Kostas. I get to joke around with you.”
He rushed her, wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground. “Yes, we are married. I’m your husband. Doesn’t that have a nice ring to it?”
“It sure does.”
“Let’s have French toast and drown it in Canadian maple syrup… and coffee. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
They kissed long and hard.
“Maybe we should go and have some sticky first? Then have the pancakes?”
“Sticky? You want sex now? Or pancakes?” he asked. “I said French toast, woman,” he said, in his deepest voice.
She laughed and pulled away. “Okay, breakfast and then sticky.”
He smiled.
I forgot how good life could be without the threat of death over my head.
Rosina had taken the mint tree and adult store rationale well. She’d playfully slapped him when he told her. She understood how innocent it was and didn’t care if he was in an adult store.
Mint tree was delivered with their groceries each week.
Which reminds me. Today is delivery day.
“Rosina, honey. I’m going to head down to the main gate and unlock it for Bruce to bring up our grocery order.”
“You got it. I’ll have breakfast ready when you return.”
He put on his slippers and stepped outside into the already warm sun. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.
Amazing.
At the end of the path, he flicked the small button that allowed entry/exit and stepped out onto the driveway. He walked down it and swung his arms in a carefree attitude. Life was great. They were in hiding. He could relax. Let things go. He could write. He could love his wife.
They both missed their parents, but that was the way of things. Stay alive and miss them or visit them once or twice before being murdered.
They chose life.
At the end of the driveway, a tall wrought iron gate stopped anyone from coming in unless it was open or they owned a tank.
The usual guard wasn’t there.
“Hey Mike, you around?”
No one answered.
That’s weird.
Then Rosina screamed.
He spun on his heels, chanting no over and over.
A man stood behind him, a gun in his hand.
“Don’t be stupid. There’s a guard patrolling the yard. When he is dead, we can leave. In the meantime, come with me.”
Darwin couldn’t believe it. How could they be that good?
They got to the house and entered through the front door. Darwin was led into the kitchen, the gun in the small of his back.
A man stood next to Rosina, a gun trained on her, eating Darwin’s French toast.
“This is good. You should try some,” he gestured at his partner.
“Not now, asshole. We have to get that last guard.”
“I’m eating. You go and get him. I’ll watch these two.”
The guy closest to Darwin spun so fast Darwin didn’t see it coming. A large fist hit him in the face and knocked him clean off his feet. Rosina screamed.
“This one is feisty, so I’ve been told. Make sure he stays on the floor until I come back.”
“No problem,” the other guy said, his mouth full. “Just go and get back here.”
The guy who brought Darwin into the kitchen walked out.
Rosina stared at Darwin. The guy at the table was still eating, not taking his eyes off the two of them.
Darwin knew that Rosina only did what she knew might work. He forgave her for her actions even before she did it.
She reached behind her, grabbed the knife holder set and knocked it over. She raised her hands to show they were empty and yelled she was sorry.
The guy didn’t shoot her. He didn’t know the knives slid along the counter. One of them, the long bread knife, fell off and hit Darwin in the leg.
Nothing in a long time made him feel that violently angry. He launched off the floor and dove at the man so fast the guy didn’t even get a chance to flip off the safety on his weapon.
Another man murdered.
Darwin stepped outside and went hunting for the enemy.
It would never stop.
He would be ready.
For Darwin and Rosina, a new life was unfolding.
For them, killing was just the beginning.
They could never go back to the way things were.
Marriage was just the beginning.
’Til death…