Bel had another addiction besides Crio Bru and dark chocolate.
Second hand books.
He loved the smell of them: aged glue and aging paper and fading ink. He loved the crinkle that the pages made when he turned them--a softer sound than new pages made. He loved the feel of them, especially when the edges of the pages had been softened by the countless hands it had passed through. Bel tried to explain all of this to Nina once, and she gave him the same look as when he told her milk chocolate tasted like fake sugar.
Which is why he makes his bookstore excursions alone.
And if Nina hadn't decided to show up unannounced, he could have gone yesterday. But today is just as good. He can stock up on new reading material for the weekend. He doesn't really feel like navigating through street traffic again after yesterday; so rather than drive, Bel takes the BTS instead.
Which gives him plenty of time to think about the bombshell that Nina dropped on his head. A bombshell in the shape of a USB, with his dad's code name on it. He'd gone home after dropping her off and looked at the files on the USB.
All five fucking hundred of them.
Because why the hell not indulge his curiosity a little bit?
There were reports that had whole paragraphs blacked out, and spreadsheets with numbers and letters and a whole bunch of other shit Bel didn't understand, but what had really caught his attention where the pictures.
Some of them were places he and his dad used to visit; some were places Bel had never been; some were with people that Bel had grown up with; some were with strangers; but Bel had scrolled through them again, and again, just so that he could see his dad's face.
Dad's smiling face.
Dad's smiling, laughing face, with gray eyes like Nina's. Eyes that always seemed to be laughing at something. Eyes that weren't laughing That Day. They'd never laugh or cry or see anything else after That Day.
Bel pauses in front of the book display just outside the bookstore, pretending to look at the book titles, but actually forcing himself to take several deep breaths. The book titles don't distract him enough though, so he turns the other way, walking away from the bookstore to the street corner, and tilting his head up so he can see the sky. There are no clouds today, just blue as far as he can see, and Bel uses that clear blue sky to concentrate on while he breathes.
Just breath, Bel. You are not going to have a damn panic attack in the middle of the street. You haven't had one in years, so don't start now.
Breathe, Bel.
Breathe.
Bel concentrates on slowing his breath, keeping his head tilted up toward the sky, and closing his eyes for just a second.
So he hears the traffic but because his eyes are closed and his head is tilted up, he doesn't see it.
He doesn't see the black Ducati weaving down the road in between the cars.
The black Ducati that is headed straight for him.
Kam is restless.
Silo's call last night intrigues him. What could possibly be so important that Silo would cut his "vacation" short? In other circumstances, Kam wouldn't be so curious. Silo avoided time off like the plague, but the call last night hadn't sounded like Silo was making an excuse just to come back to work.
But since he nearly lost the Bizzarrini due to Silo's phone call, Kam decides to have a little fun and make the "meeting place" as inconvenient as possible—at least for Silo. So he hops on the BTS and rides until he feels like getting off.
