Page 37 of Let Go My Gargoyle
As she helped herself to the bottle of rosé in the fridge, Sofia decided she needed to figure out how to pay Antoinette back for her generosity. She would start in the morning by getting up early and making everyone breakfast. A quick perusal of the kitchen told her there were ample ingredients to make omelets and bacon and toast, with a side of fruit.
Feeling less like a burden already, she stepped outside and gently closed the door behind her. There were no lights on, which was smart as it reduced the number of hovering bugs. The slowly swirling fans hanging from the porch ceiling helped too.
That was good, because the air was stagnant—hot and heavy, with no breeze to speak of. No doubt a fall thunderstorm was heading their way. Moisture was beading on her forehead, her upper lip, and her chest. She ought to go back inside where it was cooler, but she’d always been a sucker for the calm before a storm.
She’d need to shower before going to bed, but in the meantime, she wanted to sit in the gazebo under that imposing oak. Crickets and frogs calling to each other greeted her ears as she walked across the damp ground. She assumed the birds had all settled for the night, but then something scurried across her path and a great barn owl swooped down and clamped its jaws around the critter before flying up and disappearing into the darkened sky.
A wicker couch, two chairs, and a coffee table were positioned inside the gazebo, which also had mosquito netting that could be zipped closed to ensure the bugs stayed away. A Rubbermaid storage container sat off to the side, and that’s where Sofia assumed the cushions were kept to protect them from the sort of weather that was most definitely heading their way.
Placing her wineglass on the low table, she bent and flipped open the storage bin. Two solar-powered lanterns hung from the side of the carport, casting just enough light for her to make out two cushions.
When she turned around, a man sat on the wicker frame, one arm extended across the back, his right ankle resting on his left knee. Sofia gasped. “Darius. What are you doing here?”
In a swift movement, he stood and grabbed the cushions from her grasp, knocking over her glass in the process. It bounced against the wooden floor but did not break, although all the wine poured out and leaked down between the slates.
Darius dropped the cushions onto the couch and then sat again, appearing as if this were a casual visit. But Sofia knew better. When he gave off the most relaxed image was when he was most dangerous.
“Visiting my dear sister, of course,” he replied, inspecting his nails and not looking at her. “I think the real question is: what areyoudoing here?”
“I-I didn’t have a choice. But I swear, no one knows anything about me…you…our association.” Well, except for Griffin, but most of what he knew, he’d guessed, and that wasn’t her fault. Besides, Griffin had no idea of the implications of the limited facts he’d pieced together.
“I’m sure you remember what will happen if anyone finds out how you are connected to the former reeve.”
Yes, she was fully aware. He’d leave her alone if she swore to never go near their father, never attempt to lay claim to an inheritance that was rightfully half hers, never tell anyone what she knew about Darius and his drug business. And if she did not do all of that, he would kill her mother, who, for some unfathomable reason, he blamed for his own mother leaving his father.
Sofia had encouraged her mother to leave town as soon as the ink was dry on the contract. Just in case. Although now that he was sitting here making vague threats, she was suddenly afraid it wouldn’t be enough. Darius was clearly a resourceful guy; Sofia was now more certain than ever that he could find her mother.
As soon as she could get to her phone, she was going to call the woman and tell her to move again. Keep moving, just in case.
“I swear, no one knows. This isn’t about me. It’s-it’s…”
“About the child.”
She gasped. How did he know?
He unfolded himself from the couch and towered over her. And then he smiled. “I like this look on you. Fear.” He slapped her cheek harder than a friendly pat, but not so hard as to send her reeling. “You know what? I’ve decided to forgive this particular transgression.”
“Y-you have?”
He nodded, his beady eyes glittering in the dim light cast by the nearby lanterns. The wind abruptly picked up, catching the lock of hair that always draped over his eye and lifting it for a moment, giving him the appearance of wearing a toupee.
A branch snapped, and he whipped his head around to glance over his shoulder. “Time’s up. I need to leave. But I’ll be in touch. You living here could actually have its uses.”
And then he grabbed her neck, directly under her chin, forcing her to stare him in the eye. “Do not breathe a word to the old man, do you understand me?”
She gasped and shook her head as much as she could, given his grip. As quickly as he’d grabbed her, he let go, and Sofia struggled not to sag to her knees in front of him. She had only a shred of dignity when he was around, but she clung to it like a lifeline.
Another sound kicked him into gear, and he leaped off the wooden platform and ran toward the fence, shifting into his dragon form and soaring over the ten-foot tall barrier. A moment later, a dragon Sofia did not know stepped into a pool of light next to the carport. “Who’s there?” he demanded.
She cleared her throat and said, “Sofia. I-I’m Antoinette’s friend.”
She saw the guy nod. “She told us about you and your daughter staying here. Are you out here alone?”
Glancing at the spot where Darius had disappeared, she said, “Yes.”
“Storm’s coming. I’d consider getting inside before it hits.”
“G-good idea. Thanks.” She stuffed the cushions back into the storage container, her hands shaking. And then she snagged the wineglass and hurried toward the house, relieved that she could sense the other guy’s presence the entire time.
