Page 45 of Point of No Return

Another thinly-veiled attempt at conversation- or information.

I sigh as I throw open the curtains on the opposite side of the room. “Doesn’t Crew have some other assignment for you- or are you always going to be on babysitting patrol?”

Josie blinks in surprise. “Crew?”

So we’re playing dumb then.

“He is the head of security, yes? You report to him, everyone else reports to you and so on and so forth.”

“How did you-?” she starts, but I busy myself checking under the bed for any boxes or clunky houseware that might make moving it difficult.

“If everyone is done hiding some covert operation to see if I’m going to run away with an expensive vase or something-” I grunt as I pull a duffle bag full of what feels like metal from under the bed. “I’d like to meet him.” I don’t bother checking the bag as I pull it to the far wall and brush the dust off my hands, setting them on my hips. “He remains nearly as elusive as my husband.”

She doesn’t bother denying it, and I smile at finding out that my intel is, in fact, solid. “I- I’m sure he’d like to meet you.”

I clap my hands together. “Wonderful. Maybe we can do it over dinner like normal people? I’d enjoy that.”

She frowns, her dark brows knitting together. “You’re a lot more clever than you let on.”

I smile, cocking my head as I assess the best way to move the bed. “Thanks, Josie,” I offer back absently.

Satisfied when she finally takes the hint and leaves, I get to work with the less daunting tasks: Arranging my baubles in a way that’s not only functional but aesthetically pleasing and prepping for the final arrangement of furniture. Eventually, I wander toward the closet in the connecting bathroom.

Most of Skar’s clothes are comprised of the same all-black attire he usually wears.

Surprise, surprise.

Save for a few more colorful items dutifully tucked in the very back of his side of the closet, my assortment of colorful evening gowns that have been moved in really brighten the space up.

Though swift and nearly quiet enough that I don’t hear them approach, I sense the moment someone appears behind me. Not Josie- and definitely not Skar.

I don’t turn as I address them. “Does everyone call you Crew- or is that reserved exclusively for friends?”

I hear him huff a laugh as I toy with the feathers of one of my favorite red dresses. “What do friends call you? Charlie?”

I turn on my heel, feigning distaste. “Enemies. Only enemies call me that.”

He smiles, teeth sparkling as he crosses his arms over the muscled plane of his chest. It’s one of the first things I notice about him. His smile and then the fact that he matches, if not overpowers, Skar in strength and height. I know just from looking at him that he’s a skilled fighter: Light hair shaved to the skull and rigid military stance.

What’s worse is that I recognize him from the wedding. He lingered in the shadows for most of it, but he was one of the only ones who didn’t come to wish us congratulations. Even then, I thought it was odd. Now I know why.

I raise a brow and gesture toward him, not backing down. “Crew to friends,” he answers. “Warden to most.”

My smile is playful. “Is that a nickname or a horrible namesake?”

“You guessed it,” he shrugs, referencing the latter. He has an easy-going smile. One I know is just as much skill as it is charm. There’s a reason he’s the head of security at Viserion… and I have a feeling that it has to do with more than just physical strength.

“Glad you finally decided to say hello.”

He leans against the wall of the closet. “I would like to know how you found out.”

I shrug. “You were there the night I got shanked. I was out of it- but aware enough to remember hearing your name.”

“Huh,” he seems pleased at my recall. “You thought you’d finally test your theory now?”

I put on my most careful expression. “I was wondering how long you were going to hide in the shadows.”

“Just following orders.”

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