Page 15 of In the Cover of Darkness

“Okay,” I mumble, my nerves getting the better of me as we pass through the township heading to Ace's house, further into the valley.

A couple of minutes later, we turn into a long driveway with an old farmhouse not too far in the distance and a barn nearby. There are a few scattered trees but mostly it looks like the house is in the middle of a meadow with not much else around. As we pull up to the front steps a large man steps out of the front door. He almost takes up as much space as Dante when he walks through a door frame, but I can already tell he's slightly smaller. He doesn't have to duck as much when he passes through. His sandy brown hair sticking up at all angles, and eyes so dark they're almost black. The biggest smile is plastered across his face as he waits on the front porch to greet us.

Chapter 15 - Dante

"Brother,” is all I say as I pull Ace into a hug. He's one of the few people I don't have to bend over to hug with his 6 '5 to my 6 '7 in height.

“It's good to see you man, it's been far too long,” he says, a large smile still on his face. You wouldn’t know it but Ace is one of the deadliest fuckers I’ve ever met. He scares me on occasion with how deep into hell he can crawl, and then bounce back as if nothing happened. He's utterly ruthless when we've gone on missions in the past together, but also the kindest man you could meet when he's not on a job. The juxtaposition of him can give you whiplash if you're not careful.

“Thanks for putting us up, I appreciate it.”

“You never have to thank me for it D, I owe you remember. Anyway, I'm more interested in this woman you brought with you. I thought your cold heart couldn't feel anymore,” he says chuckling to himself.

"She's off limits, Ace. Don’t touch her,” I say sternly, not hiding the subtle hint of a threat I'm making.

Still smiling, he says, “It's all good man. I get it, she's yours. I'm just intrigued with the woman who kickstarted your heart is all."

Letting out a low grumble I turn away from him and head toward the truck where Mila is still sitting inside. Opening the passenger door, I help her out of the seat, putting my jacket over her shoulders to keep her warm.

“Mila, this is my good friend Ace. Ace, this is Mila.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mila. I'm James but everyone calls me Ace,” holding out his hand to shake. Mila places her hand in Ace's before out of nowhere he pulls her forward, lifting her off the ground in his arms.

Mila yells out in pain from the sudden movement, her face scrunching up as it takes her breath away.

“What the fuck Ace! Her ribs are hurt. Put her down,” I yell at him in anger.

“Fuck, I forgot about her ribs,” he says sheepishly, “but she's standing in the fucking snow, with just wet socks on,” he yells back at me. We both turn to her, looking at her feet which has water dripping off them to the snow below.

“If you guys have finished bickering, can I please go inside where it is warmer?” Mila's soft voice says.

“I like her,” Ace says grinning, walking past me, carrying her toward the front door.

Walking into the house, it is obvious the interior does not match the chipped paint of the exterior. A new looking sage green, farm-style kitchen is just to the side of us, next to the front door entryway. The whole area is open plan, so there is a dining table in the centre and a lounge on the far side. A large fireplace sits in the middle of the wall. A stairwell to the upper floor starts between the kitchen and dining area, and for a guywho spent most of his life in the Army as I did, it's been tastefully decorated.

Ace walks to the far end, putting Mila down on the couch next to the fireplace. Without saying a word, he takes off the cold wet socks Mila was wearing and leaves the room so we're alone together. Sitting next to her on the couch I sigh, rubbing my hand over my face. I adjust her sitting position, turning her and pulling her feet into my lap so I can gently rub them to warm them up.

“I'm sorry. I forgot that you didn't have shoes. Why didn't you say something?”

Taking a deep breath and looking down at the floor she says, “I didn't want to burden you any more than I already am. It's fine Dante. I knew it wasn't forever so I just dealt with it. Wet socks are the least of my worries in the grand scheme of things.”

“I’m not fucking happy about this,” I grumble, pulling out my phone.

“What size shoe are you?”

“Dante, don't. I'll get some shoes at some point.”

“Mila,” I growled. “Shoe size. Now.”

I don't want to scare her but also I’m fucking pissed at myself right now. Looking at her though, she doesn't seem scared which I'm relieved about. She is still looking down but I swear there's a small smile on her face.

“Mila, last time, or I'm going to buy a whole bunch of boots in different sizes.”

“I'm an eight, but nine in boots because I like to wear thick socks.”

Raising one eyebrow, I turned to look at her, “And why do you like to wear thick socks.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh she mumbles, “Because I don't like cold feet.”

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