Page 130 of Beni

“Beni!”

What was that sound on the other end?

Crunching?

Choking?

Both?

In her shock, August forgot that she was still standing in the empty bathroom of the movie theater. The last chick, who was taking way too long to wash her hands, although she just figured the woman was eavesdropping on August’s conversation, had left seconds before.

Now, it was just her alone.

With her fear.

So thick, she could taste it.

So cold, she couldn’t get warm.

She felt like a fucking lunatic yelling into the phone, with nothing to answer her back. Could he even answer her back? Oh, God. Was he even still alive?

Bang.

Was that … another gunshot?

August jerked on the spot, a wash of dread falling down her spine as she stared into the mirror across from where she stood. Those wide eyes didn’t look like her. That chestnut skin of hers now had an ashy tone, devoid of her usual color.

That woman wasn’t her.

That woman was fear.

Except it was her.

“Beni,” she mumbled one last time.

August had never realized it was possible to feel so entirely scared, and useless at the same time. Like there was absolutely nothing she could do here to help him, and he was listening to her scream for him while he died.

And yet, she couldn’t say anything else.

Just his name.

It was the only echo in her mind.

Something crackled on the phone before a voice filled the speaker—not an unknown one, his tone was familiar enough to her, but barely.

“No time to explain,” Joe Rossi snapped, “he’ll be at the clinic.”

August finally found a way to make her mouth work, although how, she wasn’t sure. “What clinic?”

“Who is this?”

“August.”

The call went silent for three seconds, maybe just long enough for him to pull the phone away and check the screen. Then, he was right back on the call. “Jesus Christ … he took a bullet to the chest. I have to get him to the doc.”

“What?”

“Are you with Camilla?”