“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “It’s…fine.”
I take a bite of spaghetti, willing my mind to focus on the food. I don’t want to think about how she has to go through all this because one bastard mentioned her name. I don’t want to think about her undecided fate.
Another fork full of spaghetti hits my tongue, and I revel in its taste. The last time I had good food was weeks ago. Russo and the recent happenings seem to have been consuming my time. Since the delays started, my attempts to buffer the situation have been successful but that will only last so long. Customers will start to grow impatient, and I’m not one to make excuses.
“Do you sometimes feel scared?”
I raise my head to find her staring at me as she pushes a strand of hair from her face. Furrowing my brows, I hold her gaze and search… really search her eyes. I’m wondering where her ridiculous questions are coming from. Is it the incident?
“No,” I press my lips into a thin line. It’s not a lie. The only thing that could cause fear for me is gone.
“Wow… that’s a first,” she mutters, before her eyes flit around the room. “Not even when you go on missions?”
“No.”
She seems to adjust her feet under the table as I hear her thick release of breath. “I used to think everyone has fears, you know. That one thing they’re scared of.”
Her gaze lands on me, and she continues, holding her fork again. “For you, I just thought it’d be…fear of getting killed.”
Of course. I used to fear for my life. Back when I still had my daughter to go home to. Life used to be worth living.
Clenching my teeth, I pick at my food. “Fear is nothing but an illusion.” I pick up my fork filled with a ball of pasta. “On the field, allow it to fill your mind, and you’re as good as dead.”
She nods and inhales a deep breath. I notice her grip around the fork loosen. Her back hunches a little as she slightly curls into herself before leaning against the chair. “I used to be scared of losing my father until it happened.”
I say nothing even though a forlorn expression settles on her face. Jeremiah Nightshade. The man who abandoned his daughter to do life on her own at eighteen. I wonder why he left.
“How about you?” she sighs, fixing her eyes on me. “Have you ever been scared of losing…anybody?”
As she says the words, I get flashbacks to that horrible night. My hand instinctively clenches into a fist, and my heart rate quickens. That was the last time I felt fear.
“No.” The words come out hard through my gritted teeth. I didn’t come to have dinner to relive what I wanted to forget.
My appetite is suddenly gone, and I instantly rise to leave. There are much better things to do with my time. Without sparing her a glance, I turn to the door when her voice stops me dead in my tracks, and my blood runs cold.
“Were they your family?” Her voice is a whisper, but it reaches me loud. I turn around and find a knowing look in her eyes. The tender expression is now replaced with sympathy– stupid sympathy.
“Who?”
She inhales, and I hope she’s not about to say what I think. “T-the woman and... and the girl.”
I feel my body tense. She’s trespassed.
“You’ve been to my study, Raven?” I demand, anger spreading through my veins as I take one step forward.
“Look, I’m sorry but... But I- I just thought to kno-”
Fuck.
“I allowed you to roam the damn mansion and you intrude on my private space!” I sneer, taking quick strides toward her. She has no fucking right to mess around with my past, nor to question me.
“I- I was just try–” Her words are cut off when I slam my fist against the table. She flinches, but it doesn’t bother me.
With short, quick breaths, I lean forward, a thick breath of tension the only thing that separates our faces.
“Don’t you fucking dare try to meddle in my business,” I spit. My nostrils flare with anger when she curls into herself. “Don’t you dare try to act like a therapist because you’re not…”
“You’re a hostage, Raven. Nothing more.”