Page 30 of Find Me

“Give me a name, and he won’t be bothering you again.”

I laughed this time, searching for any hint of teasing in his voice, but finding none.

“You don’t mean that,” I say, the words a whisper as they pass through my lips.

His steel gaze focuses on me as he leans in, and I still at the closeness of our bodies.

He doesn’t respond but gives me a smile instead. Try me. It seems to say.

My mouth opens, and quickly closes again, and I’m suddenly unsure of what I should say. Red’s warning comes to the forefront of my mind.

I shouldn’t be here with him, he’s dangerous. I think to myself quietly.

But he’s trying to protect me. I argue with myself, somehow finding solace in the idea of someone being in my corner.

I lean back in my chair, trying to appear nonchalant as an internal debate rages inside of me. “I guess that’s why they told me not to get involved with you, Mr. Turner,” I say as lightly as I can.

“I see someone has been talking.” A hint of a smile appears, and his eyes glimmer, the playfulness in his eyes inviting me in.

“They didn’t say much,” I muse. “Just a brief warning not to converse with criminals.” I take another sip of my drink, emptying it.

A chuckle escapes his lips before he falls silent as the bartender appears without being asked, carrying another set of drinks in his hands. He sets them down in front of us, clearing away our empty glasses, before disappearing to his post behind the bar without a word.

With the bartender out of earshot, he continues talking.

“Just because I’m not always the friendliest, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to play nicely sometimes.”

I soak him in as I hold my drink, and I can’t help but wonder just exactly how he would be willing to play nicely with me. I shake my head, banishing the inappropriate thought.

“So, you’ve heard all about my life… tell me a bit about you?” I ask, trying to change the topic.

His lips curve up again, as if he can read the thoughts passing through my head.

“There’s not too much to know about me, love,” he starts simply. “I grew up in London and it was your basic ‘grew up on the wrong side of town’ story. My family was always up to no good, and as a result, both of my parents died when I was young. I bounced around from one foster family to the next until I was eighteen and joined my uncle and cousins in the family business, that was ten years ago now. A few years ago, my uncle got put away for life, so I ended up taking over the business with the help of my cousins. My cousins would be the ones running the business now, but they followed in my uncle’s footsteps and are currently serving some time.”

“And have you been to jail?” I ask with genuine curiosity.

“I was also in and out of jail a lot when I was younger, but that stopped for the most part,” he responds casually.

“Because you stopped doing anything… wrong?” I inquire.

He smiles, his green eyes sparkling. “Because I stopped getting caught.”

I can’t help but shake my head at him.

“And what did you used to get caught… doing exactly?”

He raises an eyebrow at me, laughing quietly.

“Sorry, am I not supposed to ask that?” I say, suddenly self-conscious.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that I’m not used to people asking me so much about myself… your boldness is a refreshing change of pace.”

I pause, trying to figure out what I’m missing, why people wouldn’t be bold enough to ask him about himself. There’s something about him that feels familiar, something outside of meeting him. I rack my brain, trying to figure out how I feel as though I know him already. I watch him closely as he brings his drink up to his lips, lips I’m having all sorts of inappropriate thoughts about. And then it hits me.

“Oh my god. Turner,” I say out loud, as the realization dawns on me. “Like The Turner Family? That’s you?”

He nods, confirming my suspicions before setting his glass down on the table.

---