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“Your safety is of paramount importance,” she told me, in ringing tones.
Aw. Her zeal was actually kind of touching. “I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly, you can. But safety is more important than your duties, or your convenience, or your pride.”
“Or my freedom?”
“Or your freedom. Ethan is trying to help you, and…well, honey, I hate to be rude, but I think, in modern parlance, that you are being a whiny little bitch.”
I was so startled by her choice of words, I almost laughed out loud. I stopped myself just in time. My mama taught me better than to be rude to a grandma-figure, even if she was lambasting me. Here I spent all this time and energy at the martial arts school, teaching girls and women to speak their truth, to not be hogtied by having to always be nice, at all costs. I’d be a real hypocrite if I didn’t accord Angela the same privilege. I respected a woman who just let it all hang out.
Angela’s chin was up, arms wrapped across her considerable bosom, braced for a rude retort, but I just nodded. “I guess I may have been guilty of that, a time or two,” I conceded. “Thank you for sharing your honest opinion. I’ll search my conscience.”
She let out a small huffing sound, mollified. “Well, in any case. I am very grateful for what you did.”
“Anytime, ma’am.”
“Angela, please.” she said.
“Okay, Angela. By the way, your breakfast was absolutely divine.”
“Yeah, not too bad for prison fare, hmm?”
That made me snort coffee out of my nose, which spattered all over Freya’s baby blue cashmere sweater. “Oh, crap,” I said. “Sorry, but you made me do it.”
“Looks as if you’ll need to change. Just leave it in the bathroom. Which reminds me, I got a few more things from Freya’s closet, and put them in the bedroom I assigned you yesterday.”The one you didn’t sleep inwas the silent subtext.
“You’re sure she won’t mind?”
“Once I get them cleaned, she probably won’t even know,” Angela said. “So, you have the run of the place. Take a tour. Poke around. Freya’s and Shane’s apartments are locked, but you can wander around anywhere else, in Ethan’s place or any of the common areas. Use the TV in the den, use the computers, and Ethan’s library is full of books. There are gardens, a pool, a hot tub. I serve lunch at one, but there’s always coffee, tea, juice, and snacks in the kitchen. Make yourself entirely at home.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep your generous hospitality in mind when I start feeling sorry for myself.”
That earned me a smile. I refilled my coffee mug, and took off to follow her advice, and tour Ethan’s luxury lair. Or else do recon of enemy territory, depending on my mood. After being subjected to Angela’s cooking, I was inclined to be a tiny bit more positive about my plight. A full stomach could have that effect.
I started with Ethan’s apartment. First, I peeked into what turned out to be a little girl’s room, and felt a sharp pang, thinking of my sister Gabri. How she would have loved a room like this. The fanciful wood molding, the big, long windows with a view of mountain peaks, the shelf upon shelf of books, the dresser covered with dolls. One shelf had a big headshot portrait of her dad, like a shrine. That made my throat catch.
The next spot I lingered was the corridor and the living room, to study all the photo galleries. I could tell who the Masters siblings were from family resemblance. The sister was a beauty, but she looked like trouble. It took one to know one.
Shane, the middle brother, was likewise a top-of-the-line hottie. Tall, dark, and handsome, as muscular as Ethan, cheekbones that would cut glass, sexy lips, smoldering dark eyes. The good fairies definitely got invited to the Masters’ christenings.
Though come to think of it, considering current events, and the stories Ethan had told me, the mom and dad killed by the drunk driver, the evil aunt and uncle, the reformatory, the time spent running, poor and desperate…well. Maybe it wasn’t just the good fairies that came to their christenings. The Masters kids had rated a few nasty-hell-bitch fairies, too. We had that in common.
It felt odd, feeling sorry for someone so stinking rich, but I genuinely did. Money wasn’t everything. In fact, money wasn’t really much of anything. That prick Tony had piles of it, and it hadn’t done him any good. I was sorry about them getting targeted by these bloodsucking assholes, whoever they were. Sorry that Shane had been taken from them. I knew exactly how that felt, God knows.
I was so glad the sister had survived, and even found love. Good for her. There were lots of wedding photos. Freya and her guy, also four-alarm-fire handsome. Them in a clinch, kissing passionately, dancing. Very romantic. Her, with her head thrown back. Him, laughing. Bright moments, in the midst of the darkness. Very nice.
Then I saw pictures of the little girl, and I froze, my throat clutching painfully. Oh, God, Ethan’s niece looked so much like Gabri. She had that wide-open, bright-as-the-headlights-of-a-car kind of eyes. So pretty, with all the long blonde hair. Gabri’s had been lighter.
My throat tightened until it felt as if something in there was going to snap.
My anger was gone. Most of it, anyway. Not all, because he had behaved like a real prick to me this morning in bed, and that bit was inexcusable. But for the rest of it, I could sense how desperately this guy was trying to keep his family safe. Somehow, he had started lumping me into that category of people he was responsible for. Most likely because of the elevator escapade. He couldn’t help it. It was hardwired into him.
That, however, did not help me in my quest to come up with a plan of action. Sadly, empathy never did. The minute you let yourself see from someone else’s point of view, you were in serious danger of losing a firm grip on your own.
I sat at one of the computers, typing in the password “trusted visitor” with grim irony. Trusted, my ass. I was anything but. I sent emails to my student volunteers who helped teach classes, telling them I was stuck out of town for the next couple of days, that I’d explain when I got back. Best I could do. I drained my coffee, left the mug in the kitchen sink, and went to change that coffee-spattered sweater.
It was as embarrassing as hell, but even as pissed as I was, I still wanted to look nice when he got back.
