“Fatima’s back.
She got off work early today.”
Camilla quickly stopped swaying and called out, “Fatima, it’s me.
I’m in the bedroom.”
The doorway suddenly darkened, and Rock saw a long-legged young woman walk in barefoot.
She wore a yellow crop top and denim shorts.
She had the same long, golden-brown hair as Camilla, along with defined features, deep brown eyes, a slim, toned waist, and long, athletic legs.
She had all the makings of a supermodel.
When Fatima entered the room, the first thing she noticed was not Rock leaning against the wall, but the guns and ammunition spread across the floor and the several thousand reais in cash lying on the bed.
“Oh my God, Camilla.
Did you rob a bank?”
Fatima covered her mouth with both hands, unable to believe that her sister had somehow acquired so many guns and so much ammunition, not to mention such a thick stack of cash.
“Fatima, come here and meet Locke.
He’s my man now.
Of course, he can be your man too, as long as you’re willing.”
Beaming, Camilla took Fatima by the hand and introduced her to Rock.
Even Rock felt a little embarrassed by the way she phrased it.
The mature-looking young woman standing before him was only eighteen.
Was it really appropriate to say something like that?
“My dear Locke, you’re too reserved.
You need to be bolder when it comes to love.
Once Fatima gets to know you, she won’t mind.”
Noticing Rock’s discomfort, Camilla affectionately wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him before turning back to Fatima.
“Fatima, I swear Locke is the strongest man we’ve ever met.”
“All right, Camilla.
As long as you like him, I don’t mind having another man in the house.” Fatima shrugged.
“No, Fatima.
I’m serious…”
Her expression turning solemn, Camilla recounted everything she and Rock had experienced that day, leaving Fatima stunned.
By the time Camilla finished telling the whole story, Fatima’s impression of Rock had completely changed.
At first, she had assumed he was merely a boyfriend Camilla had brought home on a whim.
She had never expected Camilla to return with a man who seemed like a god of war.
“Rock, thank you for saving Camilla.
I can’t imagine what my life would become if I lost her.”
After hearing the story, Fatima paid little attention to the things Camilla had been showing off.
What mattered to her was that Rock had saved her sister’s life.
She stepped forward, sat on the edge of the bed, and hugged Rock gratefully before kissing him on the cheek.
“Well, I suppose I was saving myself too.”
Rock hesitated only briefly before accepting Fatima’s gratitude.
He was beginning to understand that people around here did not bother with coy, halfhearted gestures.
Fortunately, he adapted quickly.
He soon felt comfortable enough to accept Fatima’s hug and kiss without making a fuss.
“Fatima, you must be hungry.
We brought some food home.”
Camilla hurried out and returned with the cheese rolls they had left in the kitchen, along with the creamy chicken-filled bread balls that Rock had found so delicious.
“Go ahead and eat.
My dear Locke, would you like some more?”
After handing Fatima a bottle of milk and several bread balls, Camilla turned to Rock.
“Give me another one with chicken inside.”
After their earlier exertions, Rock felt he could still eat a little more.
Camilla handed him another bread ball.
As they ate, Fatima and Rock became a little more comfortable with each other.
The three of them chatted, laughed, and ate together with such ease that it felt as though they had been living this way for a long time.
“Rock, are you really from another country?”
Fatima was curious about where he came from.
“Yes, I’m definitely a foreigner.”
Rock then spoke a few words in his native language.
“Hello.
Thank you.
Have you eaten?”
The phrases were simple, but they meant nothing to Camilla and Fatima.
Neither of them understood a word.
“Then how did you end up on Copacabana Beach?”
“I don’t know either.
I opened my eyes and saw Camilla.
Maybe someone kidnapped me and buried me there.” Rock smiled and shrugged.
He had no answer for that question, so he simply made one up.
Apparently, Fatima found his explanation perfectly reasonable.
“Oh, poor Locke.
Someone must have drugged you unconscious and buried you on the beach.”
Fatima came up with what she considered a perfectly plausible explanation for his situation.
Based on Camilla’s description of Rock’s combat ability, it would have taken at least a dozen people to subdue him.
Having grown up in a Rio de Janeiro favela, Fatima understood just how terrifying it was for one person to face six or seven gunmen and wipe them all out.
She also understood how dangerous it was for an unarmed man to confront three gunmen carrying Glocks.
Yet Rock had dealt with all of them by himself.
It was almost as though his enemies had been delivering weapons, ammunition, and supplies straight to him.
Even the gang gunmen in the surrounding favelas who were known for their fighting ability did not seem capable of anything like that.
“Rock, with combat skills like yours, you’ll be incredibly useful the next time Elena clashes with another group over territory.
You’ll become the strongest fighter under her command.”
Fatima quickly accepted the fact that another man would now be living in their home.
She had never expected to depend on a man for support.
Still, in a favela, having a formidable man in the family was something worth bragging about.
Looking at the weapons and equipment covering the floor, Fatima tentatively asked, “Locke, can you give me a Glock?
Then I won’t have to worry as much about getting home safely after work at night.”
Seeing the hopeful look in her eyes, Rock got out of bed without hesitation.
He selected a Glock, inspected it, and handed it to her.
“This one is yours.
I’m giving you a standard magazine for it.
That way, you can hide it in your bag or tuck it into your waistband when you’re wearing loose clothes.”
“Oh my God, Locke.
You’re so thoughtful.
Are all Eastern men this considerate?
At this rate, I’m going to fall in love with you.”
Rock glanced at Camilla, but her expression remained perfectly calm.
He could not tell whether she had truly meant what she said earlier or had merely been joking.
Either way, as a womanizer who had already adapted to his new surroundings, the same rule still applied: do not initiate, but do not refuse.
Once he had eaten and drunk his fill again, Rock decided to perform some maintenance on the tools that kept them alive.
He asked Camilla to find a clean rag, then arranged the firearms in a row on the floor.
As required when they entered the neighborhood, the guns and ammunition were still kept separate.
Rock’s Pistol Shooting and Rifle Shooting skills had both reached the intermediate level, giving him a considerable understanding of firearms.
Disassembling and reassembling them was now basic work.
Camilla and Fatima helped from the side.
They even tore up an old shirt to use as cleaning cloths.
Rock disassembled the firearms while the sisters sat nearby, wiping away dirt and residue.
He started with the Glocks, then took apart all the rifles.
To Rock’s surprise, the weapons were not caked with grime as he had imagined.
On the contrary, they were very clean, and the gun oil had been applied evenly.
Aside from some powder residue in the barrels and around the ejection ports of the guns that had been fired, everything had been maintained quite well.
Thinking it over, Rock realized he had been relying on crude assumptions about poorly equipped gangs.
Brazilian gangs, especially drug dealers, frequently found themselves in armed confrontations.
One day, they might exchange fire with the police.
The next, they might fight a rival gang over territory.
If a poorly maintained weapon malfunctioned during a shootout and got its owner killed, he would have been furious enough to come back from the dead.
The three of them worked together to service every firearm.
They unloaded the rounds from the magazines and drum magazines, then reloaded them and refilled the magazines that had been emptied during the fighting.
Several Glock magazines had been left empty after the battle, so Rock removed the ammunition from the 100-round double-drum magazine and loaded it into the others.
There was little reason to keep such a bulky pistol drum.
Most importantly, it interfered with Quick Draw and was inconvenient to carry.
They remained busy until nightfall.
From that day onward, Rock naturally became part of the household.