Page 17 of Rogue Voice

Tonight’s meal was veal marsala, served with crisp green beans and curried cauliflower. As usual, Cruz was offered the tray first. He piled thescaloppinehigh on his plate, chattering the whole time.

“I tell you, Rogue, if you haven’t hadscaloppine marsala, you haven’t lived,” he said, waving his fork in the air. “You’re going to need to find yourself a chef who knows how to make it.”

Rogue looked up. For once, Beatriz wasn’t looking down at her plate, but rather straight at him. Her expression was cautious, wary, and something else. It took Rogue a moment to figure it out.She’s disappointed. Because I’m going to take her uncle’s money?

Cruz’s phone rang before Rogue could ponder it further. “I’m eating dinner,” the man barked, as if it’d been the responsibility of whoever was on the other end of the line to know that. His expression changed in the next instant as he listened to the caller, his hand whitening as it gripped the phone.

“Cabrón. ¿Se cree que puede joderme?”Does he think he can fuck with me?

Rogue kept chewing, acting as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but didn’t miss the way the young woman’s hands shook around the glass of water as she raised it to her pale lips.She’s seen her uncle lose his temper before.

“Espérame.”Wait for me.With that, Cruz hung up the phone and threw his napkin onto the table.

“Is everything okay, Emiliano?” Rogue asked mildly, not letting on that he’d understood a large part of the conversation.

Cruz grunted. “A grower thinks he can fuck with me. I need to go sort this out. I’ll be back.” He put on his ridiculous hat, which made him look like he was going on safari, and stampeded out of the room.

Beatriz went back to picking at her food. Once again, she’d divided the meager contents of her plate into two sections and was busy picking at the left half. If that wasn’t a sign of an eating disorder, Rogue didn’t know what it was. Worry filled him. He gripped his fork tighter as she placed her fork sideways on the plate and pushed it gently away from her, signaling she was done.

Rogue battled with himself for a long instant.Not your problem.Don’t make it your problem.Dammit, he couldn’t help making it his problem. “Eat some more,” he said, in what he hoped was a kind tone.

Beatriz shook her head. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

And I’m not an addict.Rogue had met lots of great liars. He was a pretty decent liar, himself. Beatriz, however, wasn’t great at it. He knew he should let it go, but something inside him didn’t allow him to. “You’re lying,” he breathed. Her eyes held his for a moment, then moved beyond him to the open doorway, where a male server stood stoically.

So that’s how it is.Rogue’s hand slipped, making the untouched wine glass in front of him tumble off the table. It shattered into a million pieces, leaving a trail of burgundy on the white linen tablecloth and the wood beneath.

The male server shot forward.

Rogue picked up a piece of glass and cursed loudly. “Grab something to clean this mess, quickly,” he ordered. “And a first aid kit,” he said, pointing to a non-existent wound on his index finger. In his haste, the man slammed the door shut as he left.

“Are there any cameras?” Rogue asked quietly.

The young woman’s eyes met his. “Cameras?” she asked, uncertainly.

“On us, right now,” he clarified.

Beatriz shook her head. “My uncle doesn’t like cameras. Anything can be used against you in a court of law nowadays, he says.”

“Smart man,” Rogue nodded. He picked up his plate, stepping around the stain as he walked up the long dining table, sitting down on the empty chair next to her. “We don’t have long before he gets back,” he said, picking up his fork, a small bite of marsala veal dangling from it.

He raised the fork towards her slowly, so as not to spook her.

“I said I’m not hungry,” she whispered. The look she gave him reminded him of a stray dog that’d been beaten too many times. In the tight line of her neck and shoulders he read her pride, her fear, her distrust.

“It’s just food. No strings attached.”

She looked at him in a way that made him think there probably wasn’t much in her life that didn’t come with strings attached.She’s going to run.He could stop her, but he didn’t trust himself to touch her. He still remembered the sparks from the last time she’d touched his hand.

But she didn’t run. He saw the moment she decided to trust. And fuck if it didn’t feel like a victory. Her body moved forward and her mouth opened and her lips wrapped around the fork. Under the table, his cock got hard.You’re such an asshole.

Her eyes closed in delight as she chewed and swallowed. He forced himself to look away, and by the time she opened them again he was ready with another, larger, forkful. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She took it, chewing and swallowing quickly.

“Why won’t he let you eat?” Rogue asked quietly, offering her some green beans next.

This time around, Beatriz chewed for longer than strictly necessary, as she pondered her response.

“My uncle treats me well,” she finally said, her voice thin and thready. Something tightened inside Rogue’s belly.

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