Chapter 8 (Pt 3)
Her eyes flew open again, the intensity of her stare almost blinding. �I thought of you,� she admitted. �That I would never see you again. � Made me sad�..�
Christian inhaled sharply, feeling his breath catch painfully in his throat. �Wh-what happened?� he managed in a hoarse whisper.
�Debray stopped them.� She nodded for emphasis, noting his frown of disbelief. �Oh yes. You could say he saved my life.� She laughed � a bitter angry laugh that made him cringe inwardly.
There she was again - the cold, unrecognizable Xandrie.
�He said he thought I had du cran � how do you say � guts. He liked that � pig!� Her face became a distorted mask of hate and disgust. �He said I cost him some valuable stuff, and that I should repay him. That I had just the right stuff to work for him�.�
�I�m sorry.�
Three simple words spoken in a soft quiet voice were like a splash of cold water on the heated storm of emotions that raged inside her. Her anger dissipated almost instantaneously, and she nodded distractedly, reaching up to tuck away a strand of hair that fell on her face.
�I am sorry too,� she whispered finally, tracing invisible circles on the edge of the bed. �For hurting you. I thought there was no other way. I didn�t want to involve you. I was afraid they�d kill you too.�
He moved to say something, but she interrupted him, placing a finger on his lips, anticipating his words. �You couldn�t have done anything. Not against them. You know, at first I thought I wasn�t going to come meet with you that day at all, that I was going to just disappear from your life. But I needed to see you � one last time.� She pulled back her hand, breaking their eye contact, as her voice grew more and more quiet. �I�ve really screwed things up � for both of us. I�m sorry. I�m so sorry.�
She stood up abruptly and ran out of the room. Christian pushed himself up to go after her, but the movement brought with it a sharp wave of pain and he groaned, falling back onto the pillows.
***Several hours earlier*** (Note: the dialogue that follows is meant to be in French)
The silver gray sedan wheezed pitifully, coming to a dead stop in the middle of a dirt road, lost in a cloud of smoke that emanated from underneath the hood. The driver swore loudly, climbing out of the car to see what was going on. The brief examination under the hood was followed by another string of curses that could make the metal itself blush in embarrassment.
�What�s wrong?� asked the back-seat passenger, as he stuck his head out the window.
�It�s dead.� The driver banged his foot against the grill of the radiator. �That piece of��
�What are we gonna do?�
�We�ll walk. There�s no other way.�
�Oh, Henri, come on,� the other passenger chimed in. �It�s almost pitch dark out there, and we�re in the middle of a forest. You said yourself, you don�t know exactly where he lives. �A house by the lake� isn�t exactly a precise address, you know. And if we get lost��
�What do you suggest?� Henri snapped, slamming the hood shut.
�The sunrise is only a few hours away. We can wait in the car and get on our way as soon as it�s light,� the man ventured, a hopeful note in his voice. Maybe he could also take a little nap during those few hours.
Henri considered the proposal, absently rubbing the butt of his gun. Finally he shrugged in resignation. �Ok.�