Page 90 of Hell and High Water

“Just cause you don’t need to know more.”

“Fine. I take it you knew my father.”

“She’s clever, too!” she mocks, grinning in a feline way that makes my skin crawl. “Sorry, cynicism and sarcasm are my love languages.”

“Stop acting like we’re friends.”

“Oh, we are so definitely not friends, missy. We’re family!”

“Bullshit!”

“See? Just like sisters, maybe cousins. Estranged and twice removed.”

“I would really like to remove something right about now.” Namely, her head from her shoulders. Or at least my ears so I don’t have to listen to this anymore. “So, did you meet my dad in the military, or…?

“Nah. He was already out when I served. I met your father after I was dishonorably discharged from the navy.”

“Dishonorably discharged, huh? I wonder why that happened?” I sneer, watching her hand still resting on her holster.

“I guess it was my fault, ultimately.” Alaya shrugs.

“Maybe because you're a conniving bitch?”

Her expression drops immediately, her eyes going cold. “Don’t you dare ever call me that. And be oh, so careful casting aspersions, little miss. You do not know me.”

“I know people. It’s one of my many talents.”

“Yeah, well you might know how I am. But not why I am that way. You try getting assaulted on a ship full of men who won’t lift a fucking finger to stop it and see how kind and caring you stay.”

My mouth goes dry.

“I guess I was lucky they didn’t court-martial me when I made my point.” The knife is out and pointed toward me faster than I can register. “And what a point I made. Right down through his limp little?—”

“I’m sorry.” I cut her off, not wanting the mental picture her words force into my head.

“Long time ago.” And just like that, her glib, casual manner returns.

“So, you met Damon…?” I swallow, looking for a possible way out, just in case. The only other door leads into what I assume is a bedroom.

“I'm getting there. If we’re done with rude interruptions?”

I bite my lip, my anger flaring back to life. This b—woman—is driving me nuts.

“Do you want to sit down? Have some tea? Chat it out like gal pals?”

“I get it. Please continue.”

“Damon sought me out. Scouted me to join his crew. I worked for him for years. He was like a father to me. More like an uncle or older brother, actually. Taught me to use the skills my family imparted to me, that the military refined, to do what I thought was some good in this world.”

“What happened?”

“We were the best, is what happened. We were deadly. All thanks to your father. He led us, trained us. We lived together. Studied together. A family.”

“Family, huh? Why do I get the impression that you betrayed that family?”

“I didn’t betray anyone. All of us were betrayed. One of our guys took a bribe, abandoned his post on a mission.”

She steps toward me, pulling her jacket off and slinging it over the chair. “I got shot three times because we didn’t have covering fire. Four of our people didn’t make it out alive.”

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