Chapter 3

~Skai

“Skai, your father loves you.” His voice was calm as a gentle breeze, just like always. I reached for him, scared he’d disappear the moment my fingers touched him, but he didn't.

He was finally here with me. I felt his arms, my smile drawing wider on my lips until it was all laughter.

“I love you too, Daddy.” My words tumbled out in a rush, for fear I won’t get another chance to say them. The strong stench of antiseptics and blood attacked my nostrils – almost choking.

A dry cough escaped from my lungs; my eyelids pulled apart.

“You're awake.” He murmured.

“We might need to administer him sedatives.” His white coat, glasses and my fragile demeanour explained one thing: he was the doctor.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, trying to alter my voice.

“You need medical attention,” the doctor said, reaching out to my shirt.

“I'm fine, doctor,” I said, pulling out the IV drip from my arm.

“I’m alright, really,” I said, using the soft bed as a support material as I stood up.

“You need to settle down, sir,” his voice dripping with silent pleas. He sounded distant as though I was zoning out again. I could hardly hear the rest of the words he said. The sharp pain migrated from my back to my side.

“Do you admit patients that are medically okay?” My voice was almost harsh; he was acting like a threat. He wasn't the threat; I was the problem.

“Enzo, what are you doing?” Juliano's voice emerged from the curtains, separating from other patients in the general ward.

“I'm… I'm fine,” I held my side, glancing up.

“You don't go against your patient's decision, right?” my voice firm, trying to manipulate the doctor. It was a form of embarrassment to Juliano, but I needed to save myself - my secret.

“Could you drop me at the agency, sir? We have a personal doctor.” I turned to Juliano, my voice apologetic like a child pleading for a video game.

“You're injured,” he looked from the grain of my head to my legs. I wrapped my hand around his neck, taking his weight to support myself. The veins in my hand still hurt.

“The bleeding has stopped.”

“Alright, I would drop you off.”

“You sacrificed your life to save mine; I’m truly grateful,” he said, once we sat in the car, my body embracing in the comfort. At least, I was out of the hospital.

“That’s my job, sir,” I answered calmly, staring outside the window.

“The doctor hasn't treated the wound.” He turned to look at me in the back seat.

The driver glued his eyes to the road, without saying a word. The car halted at the front of the agency.

“Do you need help to get inside?” He said, staring at me from the mirror.

“I'll be okay, sir; you've done enough,” I murmured. My face itched, moistened with sweat.

“Don't let the area get infected.” He peeped from the window.

“I'll get it treated, thank you" I pushed open the door and driver dropped to close it.

My room was the same, nothing changed, no one entered.

Grabbing the disinfectant, I took off my shirt, wincing in between. The binder wrapped tightly on my chest stained with blood – the bondage of my identity.

I poured the disinfectant on the wound, the open slit wound. A sigh of relief heaved down my throat, it wasn’t deep enough to puncture a major organ. We've been taught to give ourselves first aid treatments in case of no help.

Bruno was my closest friend, and he left. I didn't call anyone for help.

It was a long day, but I scathed through. I cleaned up the wound and retired to my bed, hoping the next day would be better. I held onto the dark sheets as sleep drifted me away.

The sound of my phone constantly vibrating and ringing forced my eyes open. I had thought the caller would stop, but no. It was as if I was the person's salvation.

“Hello,” I answered in a stale tone.

"How are you feeling?” The voice on the other end sounded familiar, but my brain couldn't quite process it.

“Mister Juliano?” I asked, the pain coming back slowly.

“Yeah….got your number from my father. You can rest for today,” he said, as though being questioned.

____

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, my hair was trimmed short. I put on my contact lens. Changing eye colour was a major aspect of altering our looks for people chasing after us.

Satisfied with my appearance, I walked out, locking my door behind me.

“I hope it’s better than the first day” I muttered, entering the cab.

I walked into the building, no caring about the receptionist. With each step I took, pain lodged in my veins until it became a tangible entity that permeates the air.

“You arrived early” Juliano said upon seeing me, my black shirt and plain black trousers masking my identity completely.

“I can’t let that get the best of me” My hands still folded behind my back.

“That’s good, hope you enjoyed the rest? We have an important place to be.” he swivelled on his chair, my hands still in place.

“I did, sir” I answered firmly, a candid expression on my face.

“Just like that? You’re not going to ask where we’re going?” His brows scrunch with a tone of anger and disbelief. I wondered if he didn’t understand the concept ‘Bodyguard’.

“Yes, sir, it is my job to follow and make sure your journey is safe.” A smile rested on my face, hoping to calm his nerves.

“Well then, the car’s outside; let’s go,” he picked up his phone. The moment he walked up to me, his light yet sharp cologne sifted through my nostrils, his body larger than mine.

I watched him walk past me after a pause, still maintaining my facial expression.

I could notice the obvious difference between us in size and even demeanour; most people seeing us for the first time would think he was my bodyguard instead.

I approached the car swiftly, opening the door for him just enough for him to get in and sit comfortably. I sat in the passenger seat as the driver drove silently, his hands having a steady grip on the sharply black-coloured steering wheel.

The moment we arrived at our destination, I stared at the building in awe, still keeping an emotionless expression. I adjusted my sleeves just in time to open the car door for my employer to make an entrance.

I watched the men standing at the entrance with so much vigour, their faces and bodies as though protecting a building stuck up with pure gold.

“Welcome, Mr Bernard,” a man who looked like he was in his late thirties said, extending his hand for a welcome handshake.

“Thank you, Omar.” He paused.

“Omar, right?” Juliano raised his eyebrows, taking his hand into his, in a friendly handshake.

“Yes, please come in,” Omar smiled, extending his hand to the door leading to the internal part of the building. I followed right behind.

“We can’t let you in.” One of the men in a black and white shirt stretched out his hand, blocking me from entering.

“He’s my bodyguard,” Juliano said. I looked at him, a bulging belly beneath the suit.

I walked in, following Juliano; Omar walked in front, placing his hand forward to indicate the path to follow. We entered an elevator that seemed secluded, just like the one at the company.

Omar tapped on the button for floor 2. The doors of the elevator were opened, and we were signalled to enter an uncommon room through a hardened door.

“Welcome, welcome” A voice emerged from the room.

I turned to look at him; the wrinkled face had no difference; it couldn’t be mistaken. Taking deep breaths, I glared at him as he shook hands with Juliano.

“It can’t be,” I murmured, thinking I was caught up in my nightmares again.

My eyes tearing, his voice still rang in my ears like jingling bells.

I blinked and unconsciously pinched myself.

The same hands which pulled me away from my mother, snatching my childhood away from me.

The man that haunted me in my nightmares and in real life. The monster that caused me trauma - a disease that made life unbearable.

“Tillard Collin”, my voice audible.

The men in the room startled, their eyes glaring at me – puzzled.

"Yes, and you are?” He muttered, acting like some sort of celebrity.

‘The niece you sold to the brothel,’ I thought to myself as I looked at his unchanging eyes.

“Enzo, Mr Bernard’s bodyguard, I... I just know your name because of my research; you’re quite popular.” My breathing accelerated a notch, and I forced a smile.

My hands clasped together as he reached out for a handshake.