I couldn't quite describe what had happened. One minute I was settled in the backseat of the car, Martin driving us smoothly down the road to the house I would call mine for a year, and the next minute, everything exploded into chaos. Tires screeching, gunshots ringing out, and Martin shouting, "Get down!" His voice was commanding, but I barely had time to process it before I pressed myself to the floor of the car, my heart thundering loudly threatening to rip my chest open.
Martin swerved the car with a precision that only years of training and experience could have taught him, positioning the vehicle to shield me from the incoming spray of bullets. Everything happened in like thirty seconds but it felt like slow motion. I could hear Martin's sharp breathing as he stopped the car and returned fire. Richard's bodyguard carries a gun?! What family did I marry into? The Mafia?
I don't know what happened, but everything became silent, and I heard the car roar back to life again. "Are you okay back there, ma'am?" Martin asked.
"Yes. You?"
"I'm fine. I'll drive you to the Numero mansion," I sat up in the car, with broken glass everywhere. I heard Martin call Richard to tell him there had been a shooting.
When we arrived at the Numero mansion, Martin opened the door for me to get out. "Come on, ma'am," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Let's get you inside."
"Martin, could you do me a favor? I mean considering you just saved my life. Could you drop the ma'am shtick?" I said as I stepped out, my nerves still frayed.
"Never, ma'am,"
I sighed and followed him into the mansion. The familiar sight of the guest parlor should have been comforting, but it wasn't. Everything that happened kept flashing in my mind's eye.
Mrs. Numero appeared then, visibly shaken also, her perfect demeanor showing cracks of trepidation. I had never seen her this way.
"Nita, are you okay?" she asked, rushing over to me and pulling me over for a hug.
"I'm fine," I said, although my voice was still shaking.
"Oh! You poor thing!" she took a look at me, checking if there were some unseen bullet wounds. Mrs Numero, the drama queen.
Richard stormed in moments later, with eyes red and bulging. His tie was loose, his shirt tucked out and his face covered with fear. Before I could say a word, he snatched me out of his mother's arms and pulled me into his.
"You're okay," he muttered, he planted kisses all over my forehead and hair, his heart beating rapidly. "You're okay, right?"
"Richard, I'm fine," I assured him.
"I thought—" He broke off, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Oh my God! I thought…"
I placed a hand on his chest and looked into his terrified eyes. "I'm fine. Really."
He turned to Martin, his tone sharp and furious. "Who did this?"
Martin shook his head. "I have no information, sir. It was an ambush."
"I caught the license plate," I blurted out.
Richard's head snapped back to me. "You what?"
"I saw the car. I... I memorized the plate," I stammered.
He turned back to Martin, his jaw clenched. "Find them. I want to know who they are, where they live, their family members, and their descendants. I want to know everything about them. And when you do find whoever the fuck it is, bring them to me before the police."
Martin nodded, with a determined expression. "Understood. You have to stay here for a few days," he continued. "Until we get to the bottom of this."
My mother arrived soon after, her wails loud enough to echo through the mansion. She threw her arms around me, sobbing into my shoulder. "My baby! My sweet baby!"
"I'm okay, Mom," I said for what felt like the hundredth time.
"You're not okay!" she cried. "You were shot at!"
"It's over now," I said, trying to soothe her. "I'm safe."
I saw Richard down another shot of whiskey. With him there, I felt like everything was fine. His presence grounded me. Somehow, I knew I was safe. When did that happen?
Even with everything that had happened between us last night, it felt so awkward, I could barely look him in the eyes this morning and now, he felt like the anchor I desperately needed.
It was a hive of activity after that; the police came to ask questions, Martin recruited more guards in less than three hours, and the Numero mansion guards were on high alert. The police commissioner sent a couple of plain clothes officers to guard the compound also.
That night, as we prepared for bed, the real challenge presented itself. "To keep up the ruse, we'll have to share the bedroom," Richard said, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"Of course," I nodded. "Totally fine. I understand. No problem at all."
He gestured to the bed. "You take the left side. I'll stay on the right."
I nodded again. I felt like an Agama lizard. I didn't find it terrifying to be around Richard anymore but he still didn't know that. Sometimes when we get in awkward positions, I am reminded of my fear but I wasn't afraid of him.
I took something comfortable to sleep in from the bag Richard had brought earlier, I found some underwear in there and I could almost will myself to disappear. He was in my underwear drawer!!! I stepped into the adjoining bathroom to change and when I got back, Richard was already in bed, shirtless.
I notice that more nowadays. My body felt like it didn't belong to me. I take one look at him and I feel my insides tingling. I had no idea when that began or how it even started. When did I become attracted to Richard Junior Numero?
"You're sure you're okay?" he asked after a long silence, while I was still standing there, looking at his bare chest.
"I'm fine. Just a little shaken," I admitted.
"You're handling this better than I expected."
I got into bed and we lay there for a while, the silence stretching between us until I couldn't take it anymore.
"About last night…" I began. "I'm sorry,"
"It's alright. At least now I know how ladies feel when I disappear after sex. It is not a great feeling but I'm glad I could help," he said
"You had to add your sexual conquests in that speech, didn't you? I think sometimes you forget I am your wife,"
"Fake wife," he corrected.
"Go to hell," I chuckled.
"You're surprisingly witty for someone who just survived an ambush."
"I feel safe with you," I replied.
"Can I hold you? I just… I need to hold you to be sure you will be here when I wake up," he asked me, uncertainty in his voice. I steeled myself, he wasn't the problem, I was. I was a live bomb, which could set off at any moment.
"Sure," I moved closer to him and he draped an arm around me. Our bodies weren't touching or anything, but I still felt that simple, innocent touch push me into overdrive, a rhythmic thumping in between my legs.