Page 46 of In His Veins

“A few. I speak a little Farsi which is one of the most common languages spoken in Afghanistan. I know a little Italian, but just what Nonna’s taught me. I know some Spanish as well.” He shrugs as if this isn’t an impressive feat. I open my mouth to respond, but he beats me to it.

“What about you? Do you speak any other languages?” I shake my head at him, confused.

“What is this, Cal?” I whisper.

He holds out his hand from across the table and I slowly place mine in his. His face softens as he studies our interlocked fingers.

“A date. Let me give you something normal, even if it’s just for one evening.” My belly flutters as his thumb brushes the back of my hand.

“You’re right, I have questions. A lot of them, actually, and I need at least some of them answered before I can even attempt ‘normal’ with you.” He nods slowly, and I can practically see the plan formulating behind his dark eyes.

“That’s fair. I’ll answer all of them. I’ll give you full transparency.” I open my mouth to ask another question, but he continues. “Under one condition.” I snap my jaw shut and wait to hear what his request will be. “I want the same transparency from you. You’re not the only one with questions.”

“You stalked me. What else could you possibly want to know?” I ask. He leans forward, bracing his forearms on the table.

“I want to know your favorite stuffed animal as a child. I want to know your favorite subjects in school, and the childhood games you played with your brothers. I want to know your process when painting, your favorite season, your biggest fears. I want to know what keeps you up at night and what helps you fall asleep. I want to know how you braid your hair and I want you to teach me how to do it. I want to know your body and every scar on your skin. I want to know your dreams, your nightmares, and everything in between. I want you to unfold with me, Viper.”

I can’t breathe and I’m quivering from head to toe. I’m so far out of my depth, feeling like I could drown in this man.

“Why do you call me that?” He reaches for my hand and twists my wrist, exposing my forearm. He studies the medusa tattoo as he speaks.

“Medusa was a powerful mythological figure, as you know,” he begins. “She survived horrible circumstances and found astounding strength within herself. It seemed like a fitting nickname.” He smirks at me and continues. “You’re also surprisingly venomous when you want to be.” I kick him lightly under the table, but the way he phrased it makes it sound like a compliment. The mere idea that this man could perceive me as strong makes me flush with pleasure.

“When did you know that you wanted to be an artist?” I’m surprised by this question, but it’s one I can answer easily.

“I’ve known since I was a kid. I always loved arts and crafts, but my father never saw the merit in it. He’s a Biomedical Researcher, and I think he imagined I’d follow in his footsteps. He had high expectations for me growing up. I gradually lost hope of being an artist until I went to college.”

“What changed?”

“I met Paige. She was a random roommate assignment, and it was the best thing to ever happen to me. I showed her my sketchbook, and she encouraged me to stand up to my father and change my major. He was beyond pissed, but I had finally realized that he couldn’t stop me.”

Cal looks like he’s about to ask another question, but Nonna Maria arrives with our food.

“Enjoy,” she says, patting Cal’s shoulder as she leaves. I dig into my food and try to think of a good question for him, but I’m momentarily distracted by the pasta in my mouth.

“Good, right?” he asks before taking a bite.

I’m transfixed by the way his jaw works and the way his throat moves. Everything he does is fascinating, which is equal parts terrifying and exciting.

“Why me?” I ask, setting down my fork. “It’s the one thing I can’t make sense of. How did this start?” He copies my action and takes a deep breath. “You promised me transparency,” I add, in case he thinks I’ll drop the subject.

“I know, but I don’t think you’ll like the truth.”

“I deserve the truth.”

He leans forward and crosses his arms on the table. His dark, long sleeve shirt is pushed up, exposing trails of ink.

“You do. Promise me you’ll sit here and listen to the whole story, and I’ll tell you everything.”

“I promise,” I agree readily.

“Your brothers were worried about you. We had a meeting about a new PI case and you came up in the conversation. They wanted me to keep an eye on you from a distance to make sure you were safe. But I made a mistake. I got too close. I never anticipated having this… obsession.” His throat bobs and he pauses to study me. “Especially not with my best friends’ little sister. I knew they were going to kill me, but everything I felt for you canceled out any concern for their retribution.” He’s wary as he waits for me to respond.

“I want to be angry, but I figured my brothers had to have been involved in this somehow. Do you think they’ll really kill you?” Cal chuckles darkly and I fight a shiver.

“They’ll probably try.” I’m shocked by how much the idea angers me. The thought of my brothers hurting Cal is unacceptable, but I try to push the feeling away for the time being. “My turn. Why did you go to The Restriction?”

My breath feels trapped in my lungs and I don’t meet his eyes. “Ask me something else.”

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