Page 33 of Dangerous Rhythm

It was silly to think that. He was running from people who wanted to hurt him. And he was cut off from his family and friends, and stuck with her without a light at the end of the tunnel in sight. Of course he wasn’t happy.

“I got dinner,” Lina announced, putting the paper bag on the small dining table.

Curtis merely glanced her way—not even directly at her. “Thanks.”

“Got a text from Paul. Your family is doing fine in Provence. All’s calm except for the occasional tension between Callie and your mom,” she updated.

He snorted. “To be expected.”

“They’re not very close, are they?” Lina coaxed him to elaborate.

Curtis changed his guitar playing from picking to strumming. “They didn’t talk much for a decade.”

A decade? What would put such strain on a parent-child relationship?

Who was she kidding? She didn’t talk to her parents much at all. She had her reasons, but it wasn’t because she didn’t want to.

Not wanting to dwell on her own issues, she prodded into the Bisset family business instead. “But they seemed on better terms now?”

He grimaced and bobbed his head side to side slightly. “A little better. Mom was a control freak, still is. She’s lightened up a lot since semi-retirement.”

Then he smirked. “And from what we witnessed, probably getting moreromancefrom Dad helped.”

Her first encounter with the elder Bissets popped into her head, and she chuckled. “Good for them.”

“Yeah,” he said flatly. He then swung the guitar, placed it gently into its case, and stood. After closing the balcony doors, he turned and looked at the food bag with no excitement.

“Thanks for getting dinner. I’m not hungry right now. I think I’ll shower,” he said.

Lina watched this Curtis she didn’t recognize walk to the bathroom and her heart squeezed inside her chest. She knew being cooped up wasn’t fun, and after over forty-eight hours, claustrophobia probably edged in. He hadn’t complained one bit, and she should be glad. But honestly, she missed the unpredictable Curtis.

Making up her mind, she grabbed the bag of burgers she’d gotten and threw it into the open trash bin nearby. Curtis turned to her with a frown.

“Fuck it. Let’s go out,” Lina said. “I’ve scouted the area, and I’ve seen nothing to make me believe they didn’t take our bait and headed to Norway.”

“Have you heard about the two guys in Paris?” he asked.

“We spotted them in Schiphol last,” she answered. Amsterdam was way far from Barcelona.

“But that doesn’t mean they aren’t after me anymore.”

“No. But it means they’re nowhere near us.” She went to him. “If we can de-rock star you a bit, I think we can go have a quiet dinner. I know being stuck in this apartment is hard for you.”

“It’s fine. It’s the inaction that’s getting to me. Too much time to get lost in my head. And too much…” He flexed his arms witha frustrated grunt. “I need to get this anxiousness out somehow. But I can’t run, punch a bag, or anything.”

“Well, maybe a long walk to dinner will help?” she suggested.

A smile started forming on the corner of his lips. “For real?”

Lina nodded. She was breaking protocol, and she sure hoped she wasn’t making a mistake.

“This is nice,” Curtis sighed with contentment, then smiled at Lina sitting next to him. “Thanks for this.”

They were sitting in a quiet, dimly lit restaurant, waiting for theirpaellato arrive. He didn’t care if it seemed cliché, but he hardly ever played tourist when he was in Spain on tour. And he knew they couldn’t do this often, so he’d enjoy the respite Lina gifted him. He’d drink his beer and eat good food.

He pushed the dark-rimmed fake glasses Lina had given him up his nose. She’d also tamed and slicked his hair somewhat. When he’d looked at himself in the mirror, he’d thought he looked like a bookish nerd. He’d fit in at any library or bookstore, he mused.

“Glasses look good on you,” Lina said.

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