“Yes. Like I said, this was my family’s home,” hereplied.
I noddedinacknowledgment. He wasno stranger to this area then.
“It’s an awfully big house for just one person. Have you everthought about moving anywhere else?”
“Well, I have an apartment in upstate New York, a cabin inAspen, Colorado, and a private island in the Caribbean to name afew, so I guess that should answer yourquestion.”
“Wow, that’s a lot,” I replied a little shocked andenvious.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.” I shrugged.
“Do you know what I’m curious about?” he said deviously, hisbodyleaningtoward me as he eyed me up and down.
I turned to him,suddenly very cautious about his sudden curiosity.“What?”
“What your childhood was like.”
I narrowed my eyesat him. He was trying to get me to open up to him, but I suppose itwas fair since I had asked him the very samequestion.
I shrugged. “Itwas good. I was a very active kid. My parents let me joingymnastics when I was little. When I got bored of that and my dadhad nothing left to teach me about fighting, I went into martialarts. I’m sure you can already tell I was a bit ofatomboy.”
“Yes, I can see that.” He almost chuckled. “And what aboutyour parents? What were they like?”
And now I’d hadenough.
“Why are you bothering to ask me this? I thought you didn’twant me thinking about my past life.”
Darren respondedwith a no nonsense glare and I felt myself growagitated.
OhGod, how dare I question him?
“Your childhood is different, and besides, I’m trying to learnas much as I can about you.”
“Why? So you can attempt to manipulate me somemore?”
“Jaden, just answer the goddamn question. Don’t ruin the nicetime we’re having.”
Yes,because we were having such a grand oletime.
I released my sighthrough my nose and glared at him.
“My mom is ahairdresserand my dad died when I was twenty-one.There, happy?”
I looked away fromhim now, pissed off I had given him that little bit of information,even though I was sure he was already aware of it. It was hard forme to talk about my dad, since the wound was still fresh. Evenafter four years, I had never really gotten over his death, and Iwasn’t sure I ever would.
“I know,” Darren said softly. “And I’m sorry. That must havebeen hard for you.”
Yeah, heknew.Of course,he knew. Heknew everything about me that was on paper. But thepaperdidn’tgive away shit when itcame to the real deal. My fingers fidgeted with the glass and Ikept my eyesfromhis. Ineeded to change the subject.
“What about your dad?” I asked a little more angrily than Ihad meant.
“He’s gone, too,” he replied casually, shrugging his shoulderslike it was no big deal. “Died lastyear.”
Good,Ithought.But instead ofsaying that, I just nodded slowly.
“So where did you develop your love for motorcycles?” heasked, thankfully changing the subject.
