Page 89 of Hell and High Water

“How would I know? Who do you think I am?”

“I’m starting to doubt that myself. You know, I don’t think this place was in very good condition to begin with. Sorry.” A shutter falls off on the outside of the house.

I flinch. “Why?”

“Because it’s yours. This place. I mean, technically.” She turns to face me.

The improved lighting illuminates her features, revealing a sharp nose, high cheekbones, and a smooth, stark jawline. She’s cut, almost chiseled. Several scars mar her face. Even so, her features are bold, but still very attractive.

The whole package is tied off at the top with a tight, blonde ponytail. Pragmatic, but she clearly still takes care of herself.

Presents herself well.

A hint of eyeshadow and mascara tell more than I’m sure she’d admit.

“Happy now?”

“Hardly. But at least now I have a face to go with the dislike.”

“Ooh, you’re fun.” She rolls her shoulders in a sort of challenge, showing off the fact that she has several inches on me, not to mention the fact that she’s clearly ripped.

“How about a fucking name, or anything, really?” My initial fear is fading, replaced by anger. Irritation. Whether she’s going to kill me or not, she’s wasting my time.

“Are you going to stop cussing at me and have a civil conversation? Sheesh, I know you didn’t grow up with a father, but have some manners.”

Manners? Is she fucking kidding?

“Fuck you. I don’t like getting played. Sue me if I’m a little mad about it, huh?”

“No one is trying to play you, Hellena. Well, I’m not. Someone is, and they’re trying to play me too. I don’t take well to it.”

“Except you keep giving me that look, like you can’t stand the sight of me. Like you want to put a bullet through my head.”

“Not exactly…” she clips out, her expression going blank.

“So, what, then?”

“You just…”

“What?”

“You look just like him, for fuck’s sake!” She throws up her hands, losing her stiff stance and slumping forward, dropping the tough girl act. “I mean, not necessarily all of… that.”

She gestures vaguely to my face and chest. “Obviously. But like, the way you stand, the way you talk, the way you glare at me like you can see what I’m thinking and could kill me with a stare!”

I almost blurt out a laugh at the statement. “You’re joking.”

“I wish. Your dad was…”

“I’ve heard.”

“No. He was something else. And whatever that was, you’ve got it too. I’m Alaya.” The slender woman extends her hand.

I nod once instead, folding my arms. “Alaya…?”

“That’s all you’re getting for now.”

“To keep me at a disadvantage?”

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