Red Strings of Fate (Haunted Series 2)

Strings 27: A Del Valle

He's their captain!

Malayo ang nilakad namin pabalik sa kalsada, at katulad ng sinabi ni Hera, may nakaabang na tatlong itim na kotse roon.

Dumiretso si Hera at Kuya Jupiter sa isa, hinila naman ako ni TJ sa pangalawa.

"We're going back to the port. I have to do things." He informed me at tumango lang ako, kinakabahan na babalik kami roon.

Naramdaman ko ang paglalagay niya ng jacket sa katawan ko at hinila papalapit sa kanya. I protested, glancing at the agents on the driver and passenger seat.

Hindi nagustuhan ni TJ na dahan dahan akong lumayo at mas hinila palapit sa kanya hanggang magtama ang aming mga katawan sa isa't-isa.

"We talked about this." He whispers, and I shiver with the way his breath feels on my neck.

Tiningnan ko siya ng masama. Hindi naman ako ganon kabilis mag adjust. At siya ang captain ng mga 'to. Hindi ba weird sa kanya na nakikita siya ng mga subordiantes niya na lumalandi?

I can't believe he's the Captain. But thinking about it makes sense with the way he addresses protection for his family like he's the protector and not the one being protected.

Inakbayan niya ako at naramdaman ko ang pagpatong ng panga niya sa hood na sinecure niya sa ulo ko.

"Sleep." He mutters.

Umapila ako dahil imposibleng makakatulog ako sa kalagayan namin. Pero nang lumipas ang ilang minuto sa katahimikan—ang naririnig ko lang ang mahinang pag type niya sa cellphone na hawak at ang init ng kanyang katawan, naramdaman ko na ang bigat ng aking mga mata.

Napaigtad ako.

Nagising nang may kumalampag sa bintana ng sasakyan.

Nasa pier na kami, the car stopped, and a group of reporters were circling the car with their cameras flashing. I glanced at TJ as he instructed the driver, "Get Scarlet home."

"Hindi ka kasama?" I clutched his arm, and he squeezed mine in return, directing my face away from the flashes of lights, pulling the hoodie to hide my face.

I appreciated the gesture because I didn't want my face to be broadcasted on live television.

"I'll follow."

Hinigpitan ko ang hawak sa kanya sa kaba na baka may mangyari uling masama, but he smiles a little for reassurance and places my hand on my lap.

Wala nakong nagawa nang lumabas siya and said reporters ran towards him with a chorus of, "Sir!" "James!" "Mr Del Valle, can you tell me what happened at the party?" "Is this a political conflict?" "Is this connected to the murder of Ceara Del Valle?" "How many total deaths have you counted?" "What do you feel?"

Pinaikutan siya ng ibang bodyguards na naka standby, and I couldn't help but notice how he walks with purpose—No, not walks. He's striding, looking the part of a captain on a mission.

The car moves, and I look back, watching him pull himself to his full height as the first reporter asks his question. This was the first time I saw him do press, and I was again slapped on how big the Del Valle name is.

Pagpasok sa lupain ng mga Gonzales ay ramdam agad ang tensyon sa buong bahay.

All the lights are on even if it's midnight. There are people, staff, security, and crisis managers all running around.

Tumagal ako sa loob ng kotse para lang pakalmahin ang sarili ko at iwasan ang mga nagtatanong na tingin ng mga katrabaho ko—Kahit na mismong ang mga agents dito sa kotse ay nililingon ako mula sa salamin.