Chapter 6 Falco
FALCO
Aerin glares at me with understandable hatred and confusion burning in her eyes.
I crossed a line.
A line that will cost me my life the second she tells someone what I did.
What was I thinking?
One second I was glancing back to make sure she wasn’t trying to leg it out the window, the next I was staring at her somewhat pathetic attempts to finger herself.
Alcohol was clearly hindering her, and she was most definitely trying to get a rise out of me with those moans.
It was like something uncontrollable came over me and I couldn’t resist.
She looked so beautiful, all flushed and dewy under the shower and the angle she was pleasuring herself just wasn’t right to give her the touch she deserved.
It was a terrible moment of weakness.
And yet those ninety seconds where she stared into my eyes while my fingers were buried deep inside her cunt was the most peaceful I’ve felt in years.
Everything stopped.
My rampant thoughts, the prickling at the back of my neck from being in a new place, even the restrictive tightness across my chest born from always being on edge.
All of it faded in a similar fashion to when she locked eyes with me at the restaurant.
I don’t know what it is, but I do know it’s dangerous.
Aerin is off limits. Totally and completely.
She has every right to be angry with me, and I’ll take the bullet between the eyes the moment she tells her father.
That doesn’t mean I’ll stop protecting her, though.
“You really have nothing else to say?” Aerin’s face softens as the hurt overrules the hatred.
She crosses her arms over her chest, bunching up the fabric of my hoodie while her lower lip disappears into her mouth.
“I don’t cook,” I reply flatly then return to my tablet even if every fiber of my attention remains locked onto her.
I await her accusations, her fury, her disgust.
Nothing comes.
Instead, she stomps past me to the counter and quickly pours herself some coffee with a groan, then she trudges back to the bedroom and collapses onto the bed in a heap.
She didn’t say a word.
Am I wrong?
I’m certain I didn’t sleep, but maybe I passed out at some point and let my thoughts run away with themselves.
My hand pauses across the screen, and I stare at my fingers.
Was it a dream?
There’s little time to dwell as a call rings through a second later.
“Pidge?”
“How did you know it was me?” comes Pidge’s lazy voice.
“You’re the only one who has this number.”
“Damn, bad news. I signed you up to so many marketing emails,” Pidge snorts.
“What do you want?”
“Damn. You called me last night, remember. Are you done with my help?”
“No. Pidge…” I sigh deeply and glance at Aerin’s unmoving mound on the bed. “I can’t exactly talk.”
“Then I’ll talk. I cleaned up your mess at the warehouse. The woman is a nobody. Bit of a sad story. Looks like they picked her up a month or so ago and after—”
“I don’t care.” A sob story isn’t going to help me right now.
“Right. Forgot you were fucking ice cold,” Pidge mutters with an amused snort.
“I’ve got the financials for the other two.
Shouldn’t take me long to track down who paid them, but they were definitely mercenaries.
It’s no accident they came after Aerin. Luring her out to kill her and make it look like a drunken accident is one hell of a way to secure a paycheck. ”
“Were they local?”
“Out of state. One had an L.A. driver’s license. The other had a fake from Ohio. A bad fake, by all accounts.”
“When you have a name—”
“I’ll call you,” Pidge replies. “Don’t worry. You’re racking up a debt here, Falco.”
“You know I pay my debts.”
“Sure. A reminder here and there can’t hurt. How’s the girl?”
I glance back at Aerin, who is now sitting up on the bed with her hands wrapped around her mug. “Hungover.”
“Lightweight,” he snorts. “Anyway, that’s all I’ve got.”
“Right. I’m switching numbers. I’ll be in touch.”
As soon as the call ends, I break down the small black phone into multiple pieces, snap the SIM card in half, and dump half of it in the trash here. The other half goes in my pocket and I’ll toss it later.
From inside my bag, I pull another phone and fresh SIM card.
Setting them up takes less than thirty seconds, then I text Pidge’s number about the weather.
He replies with a thumbs-up emoji.
The next few hours pass slowly. Giacomo’s still missing, which could mean any number of things.
He’s either dead or he’s up to something.
The eldest child of Guido and a bit of a black sheep by all accounts.
What little I know of him involved drink, drugs, and a lot of bad decisions, but Aerin clearly idolizes him.
He’s her only comfort in what appears to be a very cold life.
She takes another shower in the late evening and starts an argument when I refuse to let her close the door.
This time when she showers, she pulls the curtain fully closed around the bath and eventually starts humming to herself.
Another argument later ensues when she tries to pee and I still refuse to let the door be closed.
“Pervert,” Aerin snaps at me, her eyes glowing with anger.
“You lost your privacy privileges,” I remind her. “You’ve made it clear that if I take my eye off you even for a second, you’ll create a mess I have to clean up. So the door stays open where I can see and hear you.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“That’s life.”
“Is that how you got your rocks off in the army?” Aerin demands.
My jaw tightens. “Door. Stays. Open.”
She looks ready to fight me, but it seems her urge to relieve herself is stronger and she stomps back into the bathroom, cursing me out even while she does her business.
I lean against the wall, watching her shadow move across the tiled floor rather than her, and when she’s finished, her anger has further ignited with embarrassment.
“You’re fucked up,” Aerin mutters as she stalks past me to the kitchen.
I don’t reply.
Once inside, she busies herself making a cup of noodles from the small box under the sink.
I remain in the doorway, watching her while keeping my eye on everything else around me.
When she’s sleeping, it’s easier because I know where she is and only have to worry about myself.
When it’s me, it’s different.
I’ve been over this house from top to bottom and secured every window and door.
Loose floorboards were removed and inspected, lights and electronics were all unplugged, pipes were examined, floor was ripped up in the hallway, and the locks on the door were triple checked.
It doesn’t stop my back from twitching at every sound, or how even the subtle shift of my eyelashes when I blink sends my attention darting to every corner seeking out a threat.
Aerin’s not the cause.
She’s oblivious.
It’s just me.
Spending almost two decades of your life permanently on the line in a war zone leaves its mark.
“Where did you sleep?” Aerin asks suddenly, slurping up a mouthful of noodles while leaning against the kitchen counter. “I didn’t see another bed.”
“I didn’t sleep.”
“At all?” Her brows lift. “Damn, no wonder you’re so twitchy.”
I glance at her. “Twitchy?”
“Yup.” She refuses to elaborate and I refuse to ask.
“How’s your head?”
“Fine,” she replies. “Look, don’t pretend you care. That makes everything else really fucking weird.”
“Everything else?” My thoughts immediately turn back to last night, and my heart gives an unexpected lurch. Is she finally about to mention it?
“Yeah,” Aerin snaps as if her point is obvious. “You watched me pee like a creep, you won’t stop staring at me, and you’ve literally followed me around even though we’re in this tiny, three-room apartment. Literally where do you think I’m going to run off to?”
“A warehouse,” I reply immediately.
Her eyes narrow, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “Whatever. I’m going to sleep.” She sets her noodle cup down on the counter and stomps past me but pauses before she’s all the way past. “Is that okay with you?”
“Be my guest.”
She rolls her eyes and heads through, crawling under the blanket.
Her noodles are only half-eaten.
Is this a loss of appetite or an act of defiance?
As I debate it, my second phone finally blares to life not long after darkness falls.
It’s Guido.
“Sir.”
“You told me not to call,” Guido says, his voice strained. “But I need to know. Is my daughter safe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“She is unharmed?”
“Physically, yes. Otherwise, I’m not qualified to tell.”
“I need details.”
“Not over the phone.”
Guido is silent for a moment, then his exhausted sigh betrays his age. “I’m fighting my best over here, Falco. I’m trusting you, do you hear me?”
Trust. What a fragile concept. I’ve already broken his trust, and he doesn’t know it yet.
Pushing Aerin could make her reveal the truth to her father before I successfully get her back into the protection of her family, but it’s odd to me that she hasn’t mentioned it.
Maybe I really did dream it.
“Falco?”
“Sorry, sir. I was thinking. I swore to you that I would keep her safe, and I will do so. Has there been any news about your son?”
“No,” Guido replies tightly. “But no news is good news.”
“Yes, sir.”
Guido hangs up without a word, and a cold silence envelops me as darkness fully falls outside.
Giacomo’s disappearance irks me.
Given Aerin’s rather hermit-like existence, having mercenaries target her on the only evening that she leaves the estate is suspicious.
Is Giacomo also a target?
He didn’t hide the fact that Aerin was his sister, which means they could have chosen to target her instead as some kind of power move.
The night passes slowly, and I don’t sleep again.
This place is too unfamiliar, and I keep most of my attention on Aerin as she tosses and turns in the bed.
Sleep appears to escape her too for most of the night. When she wakes the next morning, she’s extra irritable.
“Noodles again?” she grumbles, staring down at the noodle cup in front of her.
“It’s all we have. Eat.”
“I don’t want noodles again. It’s all I ate yesterday.”
“We’re out of caviar. Eat.”
“I don’t even like caviar,” she snaps. “You think because my family’s rich, all we eat is fancy, disgusting food that costs a kidney?”
“I don’t think about those things,” I reply over my own cup of noodles. “Noodles are what we have so eat. It’s all you’re getting.”
“Fuck that,” she mutters. “If I have to put up with you hanging over me like a gloomy shadow and no privacy even when I pee, then I deserve something nice to eat.”
Watching her, I slowly push her noodle cup toward her. “Eat.”
“Stop saying that! Fuck! I can’t stand this. How long are we supposed to stay here?”
“Until I decide it’s safe.”
“Safe? Of course it’s safe. I want to go home.”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
My teeth catch briefly on the inside of my cheek. “Because your father hasn’t given the all clear.”
“Giacomo’s not back yet?” Her voice is suddenly different, slightly softer, and her brows pinch together. “Why does that affect me going home?”
I chew slowly on my tasteless noodles. “Your father’s rules. I follow them.”
“Is that all you do?” she remarks bitterly. “No. I can’t do this. I can’t do open doors and noodles. Fuck this.”
The moment she shoves back from the table and stands, I’m on my feet and my hand catches her forearm. “Sit. Down.”
“No! I’m going home.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes I am! And you can’t stop me. You’re just…you’re just a bodyguard, okay? I’m the daughter. I’m the heir and I can do whatever I want to do!” She jerks away from me but is unable to dislodge herself while her hair cascades in a wave down one shoulder.
“You seem to think you have a choice here,” I remind her. “I work for your father, not for you.”
“Oh really?” She jerks herself away from me again but is once again unable to free herself. “Let me go! I can’t stand this, I can’t stand it here. I want to go home and you can’t stop me.”
“Aerin!” I snap suddenly, raising my voice and using my grip on her arm to pull me closer. “This isn’t a punishment, it’s to keep you safe! Don’t you see that? You almost died in that warehouse. Doesn’t that scare you?”
“No,” Aerin snaps, jutting her chin out. “It was fun.”
“You’re lying. I can see it in your eyes. You’re scared. And I understand that.”
“Understand?” Aerin laughs bitterly. “What do you know about fear?”
My grip tightens faintly around her arm, then I release her.
“Acting out gets you nowhere. You can’t beat me in a fight, and I’m not letting you leave until we get the all clear.
You want to yell about it and act like a child?
Fine. You’ve already shown you can’t be trusted, so this makes no difference to me. ”
Aerin stares at me with wide eyes and her mouth falls open. “Wow.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know you were capable of more than one sentence at a time.”
If I weren’t so annoyed by her attitude, I’d be amused. “Eat your noodles.”
As I turn back to the table, Aerin suddenly slips her hand into mine and my heart jumps right up into my throat.
That touch, soft and warm, immediately silences the rampant hamster wheel in my head and my stomach flips.
Until something hard and cold locks around my wrist with a sharp click. I whip around immediately.
Aerin has locked us together at the wrist with the handcuffs from my bag.
As I stare down at them, it clicks in my mind why she suddenly stepped forward so willingly while I was talking.
She baited me.
She distracted me into lashing out so she could get to my bag, likely looking for my phone. Instead she found these.
“You’re going to see what it feels like to have someone hanging over you twenty-four-seven,” she snaps. “And then you’ll—”
Her words are stolen from her as an almighty explosion rips through the front door and sends us both crashing back into the table with the force of the blast.