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“When you turn down my request for help or when I’m forced to investigate you for your illegal acts?” He’s right. It is best I think the worst of him. But how can I when I’ve seen his worst and his treatment of me is the complete opposite? Well, minus my short stint in his dungeon.
Alister hesitates, clearly not ready to kill my hope of finding my mother’s killers. I, not yet ready to accept his denial, allow him to avoid my question.
“I survived those men. They were trained, armed. I was outnumbered and outweighed, and I survived with nothing more than my fists. Do you really think I couldn’t take you in a room full of potential weapons?” I ask. “The books on the shelves, the lamp next to your bed, even the sheet could be used to create a noose. All I’d need is the element of surprise and—”
“And when my men heard sounds of a struggle, they’d just think we were having rough sex,” Alister says.
“Exactly. But it doesn’t matter. I much prefer this turn of events.”
“You mean the one that resulted in you being beaten by two grown men, locked in a dungeon, and now held prisoner in my bedroom? You prefer that than a simple seduction?”
“Well, according to you, it wouldn’t have been so simple.”
Alister nods and moves his eyes from me to the table before us. As he does, I take note of a new feeling, one not grounded in attraction, awkwardness, or fear. One that I can’t remember the last time I felt, and yet one I do recognize. Sitting here with Alister, talking, it feels…normal. Not normal in that it’s what I’m used to. Normal in that it’s what relationships should be—honest. I don’t have to keep the truth of my mother’s murder from him like I do Ray. Or the truth of my job from him like I would a random encounter. I don’t have to lie to him, which relieves me of the heaviness of my past. It feels…easy with him. And yet, the ease and honesty between us makes me want to put my guard back up higher than it ever was before. Not because I can’t allow him to know me. But because I’m scared he will get to know me. Maybe I’m even scared I’ll get to know him. I’ll get distracted by his mystery, manners, and, let’s be honest, his physique, and I’ll never get what I came here for. Maybe that’s what this impromptu slumber party is all about. He wants me to get comfortable with him. And yet, I can’t. I can’t lose focus. Just as I plan to redirect the conversation to my mother, Alister surprises me with an admission of his own.
“You said my lifestyle must make me desperate for a release. Kudos, by the way, for finding a polite way to call me a man whore. That took skill.”
“Wait. Did you just crack a joke? Did I detect actual humor? My, my, you keep surprising me, Mr. Amato. Here I was thinking you were all doom and gloom, death glares, and bulging muscles.”
“More like I keep surprising myself.”Yeah, maybe I do too.“The truth is…” Alister shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest, the laughter between us now followed by thick silence. “My life isn’t suitable for any kind of relationship, not even a casual one or a friendship.” I nod, knowing exactly how he feels. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You and Gio seem pretty close. Or is that just when you’re planning the demise of your enemies?”
“Gio is family. He may not be blood, but he’s my brother. The structure of our world doesn’t allow us to cross certain lines. He is and forever will be my subordinate. But I’d die for him, just like I would Sophia, just like I would any of my family. It’s just…Sophia is the only one left.”
“I get it,” I say. “It’s hard to let people get to know you when you don’t know your own self. Or, in your case, maybe you do know who you are. You just can’t let anyone see it.”
“You mean the Blood King.”
I shrug my shoulders. “In my short time with you, Alister, I’ve seen a man capable of more than torture and mass murder. You’re more than the Blood King. Just like I’m more than an FBI agent or even a girl who lost her mom in the most horrific way. And yet, like you, I keep myself closed off, all of me, because I can’t,wecan’t segment out the parts of ourselves that we don’t understand or like or want.”
I shake my head. I shouldn’t have said that. The lines between us are too blurry. It’s just— I tug my T-shirt over my knees as my honesty leaves me feeling exposed.
“Are you cold?” Alister asks.
“Um, yeah, kind of,” I mumble. Alister stands and grabs me a spare blanket from the foot of his bed. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I wrap the blanket around my legs as Alister settles back in beside me. Despite his relaxed position, tension keeps his facial features tight. Clearly, our topic of conversation still weighs heavy on him, though he doesn’t say anything more on the matter. Perhaps he’s feeling the lines between us blur as well.
I know I shouldn’t say anything more, and yet, as I look at him, I can’t help but see the worry etched in the wrinkles on his forehead, the sadness in his eyes, the exhaustion in the way his lips droop. It’s a feeling I know all too well so I can’t stop myself from—
“Alister,” I say.
“Yeah?” he asks, turning back to me.
“I, um…I can imagine trust is hard to come by in your line of work. Hell, it’s hard for everyone. But for you? Me sitting here tonight is proof that you have reasons to be paranoid, to keep people at arm’s length. But, if you found a way to trust Gio, someone who isn’t your blood, maybe that means you can learn to trust someone else too, someday. I just…I know I don’t know you. In fact, I’m pretty sure we’re mortal enemies in more ways than one.” At that, we both smile. “But I know as well as anyone how it feels to be alone—to feel like you are the only person in the entire world you can count on.”
I lower my eyes to the blanket in my lap and brush my fingers over the tufts of softness, giving myself time to fight off my emotions and the memories of my past. Finally, I say, “No one should be alone forever. Not even you.”
As the words cross my lips, Alister’s eyes don’t leave mine. His brows furrow as if he’s wondering if I’m telling him the truth. Or perhaps, it’s not the truth of my words he questions. Rather, he wonders why I’ve chosen to say them to him. Maybe he thinks I’m playing him. Still trying to seduce him or worse, manipulate his emotions to get the information I want from him. But I’m not. I’m—
“Ariana, you should know, I looked into my father’s records for the year you said your mother was killed.”
“You did?” My eyes widen with surprise. Hope rushes through my veins like heroin as I sit up straight, waiting for what he’ll say next. And yet, as the wrinkles on his forehead deepen, my heart sinks.
“There was no record of a hit matching the details of your mother’s murder for that year. I didn’t even plan on looking, but your persistence was evident. I knew you wouldn’t stop pestering me if I didn’t give you something. So, I…I hoped I’d find enough to get you off my tail and onto someone else’s. But…”
