Page 22 of Veiled Vows

“You don’t say,” Jasmine snorts. “So, I’m marrying a guy with anger issues. Cool.”

“I don’t have anger issues.” Turning to face her, I’m surprised to see her standing so close with several books in her arms.

“Could have fooled me,” she replies, her eyes darting quickly around my face.

“I have Alto issues.”

“Aren’t siblings supposed to grow out of the loathing stage?”

“Fuck knows.”

“Hm. Glad I’m an only child.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I don’t care.” She shrugs one shoulder. “You don’t scare me.”

In an instant, my anger starts to dissipate. “Oh really?”

“Really.” A hint of a smile warms her lips. With a toss of her head, she turns and crosses the room to the wooden ladder that grants access to the higher shelves.

“I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”

“Do you want to scare people?”

“No.”

“Good, because you’re not scary.”

“I can be.”

“Maybe.” She glances over her shoulder and looks me up and down. “But not to me.”

“Ouch.”

“Don’t take it personally. I’m sure to countless others you’re terrifying. But I know I could kick your ass so I’m not worried.”

“Hold on.” It’s impossible not to follow her. “I’m triple the size of you. There’s no way you could kick my ass.”

“See, that’s where big guys like youalwaysfail. You think size wins every time, but really, it doesn’t.” Balancing the books in the crook of one arm, Jasmine begins climbing the ladder. “I’m small, sure. But I’m fast. Scrappy. And you, Gigantor, have one low center of gravity. When you go down, you go down hard, and it’s really not that difficult to bring down a giant.”

She really knows what she’s talking about. I noticed the muscular hint of her build back when we were locked in that closet, and in this day and age, it’s impossible to exist in this world without some kind of skill. I just didn’t know how much, and now I want to know more.

“I feel like you’re threatening me,” I say as she gathers her skirt close to her knees with her other hand and loops the fabric around one of the ladder rungs.

“Does that scare you?” She smirks down at me.

“Scare isn’t the word I would use.”

“Interesting.”

“What were you reading anyway? I didn’t think anyone gave a shit about these books.” Certainly not Alto.

“I bumped into your brother and he was asking me about the meeting, so I laid out a brief version of how we could bottleneck the Yakuza into a better deal. The threat of cutting them out completely only works if they believe we have the power to do it. I just don’t know much about the Mexican drug trade where the Yakuza get the majority of their supply, and Alto claimed you had books on it.”

“And did we?”

“Sure,” she scoffs, sliding one book back onto the shelf. “If we were still navigating the nineteenth-century drug trade.”

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