Page 73 of The Man with a Treasure

That thought made me shudder. I wasn’t sure I trusted anyone but Sal to help with her.

Sal read what she was pointing at, then said, “That, my dear one, is Mother Africa.” After a sigh of admiration, he rushed around the couch to a remote on the coffee table. “Let’s see what Netflix has with anything on Africa.” He was all excited. “Scarlett, Africa has giraffes, elephants…”

With the large book in her lap, she stared at the TV as if already witnessing Africa’s beauty. “Wow.”

Sal was right to call Scarlett “dear one.” Her gratefulness was sincere and captivating to witness. That had my stomach twisting even harder. “I’m going to take a shower while you two go on a safari.” I think I was hoping the water could cleanse me and guide me. The stress of not knowing what the future might bring for us was mounting.

Walking toward the hallway leading to my bedroom, Scarlett squealed in delight, “Sal! Can we make soup while watching Africa?”

“Of course!”

Before I turned a corner, I saw Sal walking to the kitchen with the remote in hand, scrolling through a Netflix menu.

“I actually have a surprise boiling for you. Come on. You are about to learn how to skin a potato.”

“Wow.” Scarlett left her blankets and book behind, following Sal while still wearing his undershirt.

In the shower, I rolled my tight neck, hoping the hot water could ease my stress as worries played over in my mind. I kept seeing large grey eyes staring at me. It was like she was asking, “Why did you leave me tied to this stove, you fucking coward?”

Deep down, I knew all the victims were still trapped in the Hell I had left them in.

Finally turning off the water, I stood there, in silence… until I heard a scream.

With gun in hand, I ran, naked and dripping wet, only to find those two in the kitchen again. Apparently, the noise of the immersion blender had terrified Scarlett.

Apparently, Scarlett’s scream had terrified Sal.

It looked like he had jerked the machine out of the bowl while it was still on. Globs of mashed potatoes hung from everywhere. He shrugged. “I was only trying to make her mashed potatoes.”

As if that experience hadn’t been enough to scare her, loud roaring echoed from the TV to my left. Scarlett looked up.

Then she screamed in horror.

I jolted and looked to the TV to see a pack of lions ripping into some poor little gazelle. Can this get any worse? I started running to the kitchen for the remote. “Sal!”

“On it!” He was already fumbling with it in his mashed potato-covered hands. “Oops.”

He dropped it in the bowl.

Dear Mother of God, this fool. “Sal!”

“Angel! Angel!” Scarlett screamed for me to save the little creature being eaten alive. “Shoot! Shoot!”

Believe me, I was tempted to send bullets into the flat screen that was throwing her into a complete panic, but replacing it would be timely and costly. “Close your eyes, Scarlett. Close your eyes.”

Trembling, she stood there with stressed fists and eyes slammed shut, while I dug into sticky potatoes.

Once the TV was off, I went to her. “It’s over. It’s over.” I pulled her into a hug.

She melted against me. “Why is Africa so deadly?”

I glared at Sal.

He winced. “She is a fast learner?”

Scarlett now understood how violent death could be.

Wishing some lessons could be easier for her, I exhaled but stopped when Sal coughed to get my attention. Looking at him, my brows bunched in question.