Page 78 of Stutter

“I’m on a need-to-know basis?”

“Aren’t you?” His stare is dangerous, almost challenging. Even though I know he trusts me, I know there’s a small piece of him that will maim and destroy me if I even thought about hurting our girl.

“No, I’m not. But I have a feeling the less I know about this, the less I have to lie about to Detective Arlo when he shows up at my door, am I right?”

He nods once and leaves me behind, but I still trail after him into the other room, a clatter is heard and a shuffling of feet when I hear an older booming voice cy out, “Mi Vida!”

Raven’s smile is radiant, transforming her face as she goes to the older man, a little over average height but still tall and imposing. His hair is mostly silver, with dark dashes of ink-colored hair, like the neatly trimmed scruff of his beard that doesn’t hide how deep his dimples are, and barely any crow’s feet crinkle at the corner of his eyes. It’s not even nine in the morning and the man is already dressed in a casual suit, the shirt unbuttoned as if he couldn’t be bothered to put on his tie. He’s relaxed and in his element. This is his domain, of course.

Hotel waitstaff are rolling in so much food and different types of beverages on the large cart, setting everything up for us tofeast.

His eyes flick to mine and the honey-hue of Raven’s eyes are the same on this man. It becomes very apparent that I am standing before the very distinguished Hotel Tycoon Enrique Paloma. His arms are over Raven in a tight embrace, he too, seems to finally register it isn’t just he and Raven in the room and when he pulls away from her he cups her by the chin and looks her over. “Hermosa.”Beautiful. His smile doesn’t falter when he looks down at his granddaughter, only brightens, and he pulls her in once more for another hug.

“Quien son?”Who are they?

“M-m-mis… pre…tendientes.”My suitors.

He arches a thick silver and black brow at her, obviously noting her stammer but instead of making it a big deal, he only smiles down at her, a fierce pride on his face and he shakes his head. “Vamos, muñeca, a desayunar mientras que me dices la razón de tu regreso, si?”Come, doll, let’s eat breakfast while you tell me the reason for your return.

Her arm goes into the crook of his and we all take our seats around the table in the dining area, the long table that could sit twelve is set for five, Enrique taking the chair at the head. Jonas sits beside her, Damon and I across from her and I am beside Enrique. On serving platters there’s assortments of sweetbreads, toast, eggs, bacon, coffee, juices. I almost moan when the ensaimada I bite into coats my tongue and I fist my hand on the table.

I decide I’m going to take these with me when we leave.

“Good?” Enrique asks me, an amused look on his face, Spanish accent light. He must have been speaking English for a very long time.

I nod. “Very, thank you.”

We resume our meal, he asks each of us questions, our names, our professions, doing the grandfatherly thing to verify if we’re worthy enough for his granddaughter and when Raven begins to sign, asking Jonas to translate for her, he’s about to, but Enrique interrupts.

“Your mother told me you refused to learn to sign.”

Damon chuckles, bringing the older man’s gaze to us. “She had us all fooled. She very much knows how to sign; she just kept it to herself for years. Cunning little thing.”

Enrique smiles at Raven adoringly and puts a hand over hers, squeezing it and she smiles back at him as though her grandfather hung the moon. “That she is. There was many a time when she terrorized the staff here as a child, playing pranks. Sneaky little fox.” He shakes his head. “And yet, I could never bring myself to discipline her.”

I almost blurt out for him not to worry, that I do a pretty good job of disciplining her, but I bide my tongue. It is also incredible to see my usual dark and dreary siren so lit up by someone that loves her so unconditionally and I wonder if this is how she was before her attack. I once likened her the Persephone to my Hades, and the more I am around her, the more I want to see my woman happy. Although I do love the darkness within her and the fishnets… they makepinkfishnets, don’t they?

Fuck, I’m getting hard under the table thinking about her wearing pink fishnets and little fairy wings, how delectable she’d look hanging from the ceiling at Inferno. I almost miss the entire conversation. Damon squeezes my shoulder, standing from behind me and I tear my gaze from Raven, so pretty in pink. “Hmm?”

The handsome psychiatrist grins, “We’re no longer needed.”

“Oh,” I stand, stretch out my hand to shake Enrique’s hand, which is firm and lightly calloused, thank him for the amazing breakfast and then grab the plate of sweetbreads and refill my coffee mug, and that causes him to chuckle.

“My kitchen is always open to my granddaughter and her… friends.”

“We aren’t herfriends, sir. I’m going to marry her.” Jonas says matter-of-factly, and this makes Enrique give Jonas a double take and he stands as well, uncaring that his chair slightly screeches as it pushes back with his legs. “Weallare, if it’s possible. We love your granddaughter, Mr. Paloma. We will dowhatever we can to protect her, do whatever we can to make sure she’s happy and we’ll do whatever we can… to make sure the people that did this to her are brought to justice. That’s why we’re here.”

Enrique eyes Jonas, taking an unusually long perusal of him from eyes to toes and back up, only to look at Raven who gets to her feet, a lot more graciously than Jonas did and threads her fingers between his, obviously letting the older man know it’s true, and when his gaze meets mine and Damon's we nod. Enrique surprises me by simply nodding his head in understanding. “Then we must talk.” He replies to Jonas.

Damon once again squeezes my shoulder and jerks his chin to the door. “Come on. We're not needed. This is between them.”

________

The flight back to Massachusetts the next morning is serene.

Jonas and Siren are sleeping soundly in the pod-like chairs, not even the slight turbulence we encounter wakes them, letting me know they’re so used to this, boarding private jets and taking off on a whim to not just a different time zone but an entirely different country and I can’t help the small feeling of envy that eats at me. Damon is on his tablet, entranced by whatever he's doing that he pays me no mind. It’s quiet, save for the low whirring of the plane's engines and Jonas' soft snores.

My thoughts go back to walking the historical paths of Barcelona while Raven and Jonas spoke with Enrique behind closed doors and then left to God knows where.

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