Page 50 of Courting Danger

“I’ve realized that I’m not as bothered about the whole mafia thing as I probably should be. It was the lying that actually upset me more. I’ve killed people before. I’ve followed orders that would be a crime if they came from anyone other than the military. However, there is one line I will not cross. If I stay and continue to support and protect you... can you promise with absolute certainty that I’ll never have to harm another child?”

I suspected that for Garrison to stay, we would have to find some sort of compromise. I’d worried about what Garrison would demand, and if the price for the other man’s loyalty would be too steep.

This was the easiest promise I’d ever made.

“I promise I will never ask you to harm a child in any way. I have no plans to ever involve children in my family’s affairs again.” I placed a hand on Garrison’s knee, just above the edge of the brace. “And if, for some bizarre reason, such a thing is necessary, I promise I will find someone else to handle the job. That’s not something you’ll ever have to worry about.”

At these words, Garrison released a heavy sigh and the stiff line of his shoulders relaxed. “Then I think we can make this work.”

With an agreement reached, we lay back down on the mattress together with my head pillowed on Garrison’s shoulder. The lights were turned off so only starlight was left to illuminate the room. The trees outside created mosaic patterns over the floor that spun with each gust of wind.

I watched the play of dark and light, breathing in the peaceful atmosphere. A deep knot in my chest finally relaxed, and I took what felt like my first proper breath in days.

Eyelids drifting closed, I was almost asleep when Garrison interrupted the silence.

“You know, we still need to figure out who’s actually trying to kill you.”

Oh, yeah. That was still a problem. I had been so distracted by not dying, I’d almost forgotten about the threat that started everything in the first place.

“You know, I might have an idea about that.”

CHAPTER 17

Garrison

The funeral for Alex’s father lasted three hours. It was a grand event, though not excessive, and I was surprised by how normal everything was. I’d attended plenty of funerals in my life—the field crosses tattooed around my arm could attest to that—and this one stood out only because of the number of people in attendance.

Less than a week had passed since Alex’s kidnapping, and I was still on edge as I kept one eye on everything from the side of the chapel. Like most traditional catholic cathedrals, the building had been designed with aesthetic in mind more than safety. There were plenty of doorways and little hidden alcoves where someone could hide.

Plus, the distractingly ornate decorations didn’t help. To me, it seemed like every praying statue and painted cherub was actually an enemy lurking in the shadows.

If I was still seeing a therapist, they would probably diagnose me with hypervigilance, but as far as I was concerned, there was no such thing as being too vigilant when someone was actually out to kill you.

Or kill Alex, which was basically the same thing.

Finally, with the afternoon sun creeping lower and lower through the stained-glass windows, the funeral came to an end. Some people left immediately, but all the Mariano family and everyone closely associated with them, were invited to a reception in the church’s attached greenhouse. Small tables had been set up along the pathway to provide refreshments, encouraging guests to mingle among the flowers.

Alex posted himself under a large rose trellis at the far end of the greenhouse, and I stood just a step behind.

We stayed there, finding camaraderie in silence as they watched over the reception. There were several people present who I recognized. Alex’s uncle was a blight upon the crowd, while Ghita mingled easily. Meanwhile, Valente stayed off to the side in a similar position to a bodyguard. The man seemed motionless, but every now and then his gaze flickered over toward Alex.

Although, if one watched carefully, they would see Valente’s gaze slip past Alex’s shoulder to land on me, as if he couldn’t quite process what he was seeing.

I was careful not to meet the man’s gaze.

There were also several family members who I had never seen before but were easy to identify. Alex’s mother shared a very similar bone structure with her son, especially when she was scowling.

Apparently, she didn’t approve of the last-minute change to hold the reception in the greenhouse, but Alex had insisted.

However, there were still many more people I didn’t recognize. If I wanted to stay by Alex’s side, I’d have to learn all their identities eventually, but for now, I treated everyone as a potential threat.

After the crowd had been allowed to socialize for a while, Alex stole everyone’s attention by tapping one of his silver rings against the side of a champagne glass.

“Everyone. Thank you for coming. I’d like to say a few words.”

What followed was the most standard speech I had ever heard. It didn’t even specifically sound like it belonged at a funeral. Alex’s speech could have just as easily been presented at a wedding, an award ceremony, or a court appearance, and it would have made equal sense.

Technically, nothing Alex said was insulting or untrue about his father, so no one had a reason to complain, but it was also obviously pointless.

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