Page 29 of Courting Danger

“I won’t just stand here while that bastard spouts bullshit.”

“He can spout whatever he wants. The more someone talks, the better. That’s how we get information. You know all that.” Once the knife was clean, she folded up the blade and handed it back to me. “You aren’t yourself right now. I understand your father’s death has come as a shock. Go rest. I’ll take care of things here. Come back once you’ve calmed down.”

I stared at the knife being offered to me. It was a familiar weapon. I’d carried it for years. Yet, at that moment I couldn’t bear the touch of cold metal.

Turning away, I stormed out of the cell and up the steps until I was out of the basement all together, leaving the knife behind.

Back in the main body of the house, I returned to the front room where my family’s portrait hung. The half empty wine bottle still waited for me on the stairs. Not bothering to find a glass, I brought the bottle to my lips and drained the rest of its contents.

The wine didn’t last as long as I’d like. Soon enough, my throat was dry again, and I was left clutching an empty bottle.

Thiat was how my cousin, Ghita, found me. She stood a step above me, arms crossed as she studied me half draped over the stair railing.

“How much have you had to drink?”

I raised the bottle in my hand. “Just the one.”

Grabbing me by the wrist, she tugged my arm over my shoulder. “I think it was more than that. I know you. This is not you after just one bottle.”

I let myself be pulled away from the railing, but I immediately tripped over the next step. “Not myself. Mother said that too. Not myself.”

Ghita nodded along as she guided me up the stairs, one difficult step at a time. “Aunt Serafina is usually right. You’ll feel better after some rest.”

The world spun with each step. Maybe I had drunk more than I realized. I tried to remember, but my thoughts were like water slipping through my fingers. They flowed in whichever direction they wanted.

“You’re both wrong. I’m too much myself. That’s why he left.”

My unsteady balance tipped me hard to the side, and I nearly tumbled to the floor. Ghita barely managed to hang on to me long enough to set me down, then joined me sitting on a step just a few feet from the top of the stairs.

Her chest heaved and a drop of sweat rolled down her temple.

“Who left? You’re not talking about your father, are you?”

“No.” I leaned against the railing, tapping at the bottle I still held in one hand. “Garrison. My bodyguard. That’s what you said, right? Get a bodyguard. Well, I did. Real interesting one.”

Through a mix of disjointed sentences, I managed to recount the whole situation. It probably wasn’t the best explanation, but it seemed to be enough as Ghita nodded along.

“So, you hired this Garrison guy because you thought he was attractive. Didn’t tell him you’re mafia. Slept with him. Then, when he found out the truth, he left.”

“Hey.” I pointed at her with the neck of the bottle. “I hired him because he’s a badass soldier who saved me. And because I wanted to climb him like a tree.” A rush of heat warmed my cheeks and I giggled. “Seriously. I could have too. Guy’s got shoulders for days. Fucking him is like scaling Everest.”

I gestured too wildly with the bottle and nearly fell over again.

Ghita grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me back before I could somersault down the stairs. “I don’t want to know about your sex life. But I am wondering... what did you think would happen?”

The world spun. I tried to ignore it and focus only on Ghita.

“What’d you mean?”

With a groan, Ghita climbed to her feet and pulled me up as well.

“I mean, what was your end goal here? You knew he had to find out eventually. So, what was your plan?”

We managed to make it to the top of the stairs and started the long trek down the hall toward my room.

An unfamiliar carpet passed beneath my feet. My mother must have redecorated recently.

“No plan. I just wanted...” I trailed off, distracted by the carpet. The old pattern had been better.

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