Chapter 8.
‘Christian’
Reuben's been avoiding me for days.
But this is different.
The only thing that makes sense, is that I upset him in some way.
I’d asked Xavier about it—my only option really, because Gabriel's an asshole and Tobias is always busy managing Reuben’s affairs—
But Xavier said Reuben’s just being a bit strange right now. It happens sometimes and he’ll go back to normal eventually… whatever ‘normal’ may be for Reuben anyway. There’s no sense agonizing over it, so I can only hope he’s right.
I throw a new shirt over my head right as my eyes snag on my reflection in the mirror.
It’s both calming and painful when Christian’s eyes stare back at me.
It’s been forty-four days since I lost the Adler Squad. But the visions of them are still as clear as though they were right in front of me. Mitch’s voice. Max’s scowl. All their drunk faces after a successful op… but my reflection is always the worst of it.
When I mimic his smile, I swear he’s there, smiling at me. When I close my eyes I’m surrounded by his scent, his soaps, his colognes, his clothes. Some nights I shift into a cat and make a bed of them, because I can almost feel he’s there beside me when I close my eyes. Like old times.
My reflection keeps me from breaking but at the same time, it shatters me…
Because he’s nothing but a spectre.
Would you have accepted me in a different form like Reuben did?
“Christian.”
The spectre releases me from its grip and I can finally pull my gaze away. Once again grateful to be released from the nightmare but still itching to take another look. To have the ghost of him close again.
Instead, I meet Reuben’s eyes in the open doorway. It never seems to matter how quickly I can pull my inexpressive mask on. I know by now that Reuben sees everything, and by the quiet blaze of fire in his eyes, I know that he's seen through me too.
It makes my insides itch, but at the same time, it feels like I’m taking in air for the very first time after suffocating underwater for the last 802 days.
Reuben makes me feel seen.
And it terrifies me.
“We've got a job.”
My heartbeat spikes nervously, but I keep it off my face. “Briefing?” I ask.
“Kitchen.”
“Coming.” I look away from him to take a look around the room.
That's the extent of our conversation but I can feel him hovering in the doorway as my fingers curl around the ring on my dresser. I throw the thin chain over my head, allowing the feel of the metal against my chest, to settle the nerves and nostalgia.
“?De qué huyes, estrellito?” I hear Reuben’s voice in the doorway, muttered mostly to himself, and once again, I make a mental note to find a dictionary somewhere, just in case he’s insulting me.
Maybe he regrets asking me to join the team.
I steel myself. I can’t allow that.
When I turn around, Reuben is gone. I can hear his footsteps receding down the hall, and I pedal quickly to catch up to him before following him down the stairs.
The first day of training with the team had been the worst, but since then, I’ve gotten used to moving Christian’s body and executing his sharper movements. If anything, I made Christian Adler even better, a force to be reckoned with in Reuben’s squad, and I was proud of that.
Now, I just need to make sure I perform the same way on the field.
My heart lurches into my stomach at the memory of the last operation—at the memory of Geoffrey Nash—and my hands immediately become clammy.
I shake my head to blot it from my mind quickly, surprised at myself for being so uneasy, as I hover at the threshold of the main kitchen. But within moments, I’ve pulled myself together and am stepping in line with the rest of the team at the bar.
My window to run away closed the moment I crossed the border to Seattle.
My only option now is to see this through to the end.
And to make it the most magnificent end possible.
If anyone had told me how the next twenty-four hours would go, I would've ignored them. But ever since Reuben explained the job, there has been a consistent crease between my brows.
It was there when I left the kitchen—actually when the team left me in the kitchen because I was still so impassively confused—
It was there when I went to sleep and woke up the next day.
It was there when Xavier dropped off, and fitted me into my new suit with the biggest grin, around noon.
And it remained when Wesley drove the lot of us to the nearest port—where I saw the sea for the first time.
When Reuben dragged us onto a cruise ship—the first I've ever seen in my life, with five decks and the most dazzling facilities I’ve ever seen—though the only facilities I've ever seen, so we're starting with a low bar really.
When he introduced us to the client—because apparently we have ‘clients’?
And it remains now when a petite beauty with hazel eyes and jet black hair flashes me a smile and holds out her purse.
“Hold this for me?” she asks sweetly.
Reuben’s client. Camille Dayton.
I take the, likely expensive violet purse without a word as she bends to adjust her heels.
Turns out, the job is to protect Miss Dayton, the heiress to a supposedly important, chain of clothes and perfumes, and granddaughter of one of our Don’s closest friends, while she celebrates her 21st birthday.
It’s nothing like the jobs I went on with the Adler Squad.
They were mostly exterminators… ‘enforcers’. Anyone who stole money or broke the rules, that was when you called Christian’s team.
‘Bodyguard protection’ on the other hand... It’s cute... but it’s not the magnificent end I envisioned. Not at all.
I don't see how it contributes to extending Christian’s legacy.
“You’re so much more polite than that airhead Reuben,” Camille’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “I ask him to hold something for me and it’s like beating a dead dog. There’s nothing wrong with helping a girl out.”
I'm sure there's an unspoken rule about using your bodyguard as a hanger, Miss Dayton.
“Maybe Reuben doesn’t want to risk any distractions while he’s working,” I guess, but she only scoffs.
“Oh, please.”
She stands from adjusting her shoes and passes her hands along her dress to brush out the creases, a violet material that wraps around her body tightly before flaring out at her heels, with matching long gloves and white hair accessories.
All the guests on the deck of the ship are dressed similarly, in the finest gowns and suits I’ve ever seen, but the moment I allow myself to linger on their forms, a familiar sensation pulls at me. One I can’t realize fully… but by instinct I know that it is both familiar and unwelcome.
So I drag it deep down inside me and shut into a box where it doesn’t exist.
“He charged me $150,000 for holding my purse last time, you know,” Camille’s voice breaks my gaze away from the guests.
I blink.
“I know you’re new to the team, so let me tell you now,” Camille huffs, “Reuben won’t do a single thing unless it’s for money. He’d sell his soul, buy it back cheap, and flip it for profit.”
I tilt my head. I haven’t had enough contact with him to realize it, but maybe if he hadn’t started to avoid me, I would’ve noticed it sooner.
It’s a different feeling having heard it from someone else, instead of seeing it for myself.
“Does your grandfather hire Reuben often to protect you?” I don’t know why I’m asking.
“Only once every few months.” Camille combs her hair behind her shoulders.
“Grandfather rotates all of my bodyguards for the events in high society. He’s somehow deluded himself into thinking that someone will hurt his family to get to him.
Everyone knows our net worth isn’t that high, but he gets so proud.
” A gentle smile lights up her face, “There’s nothing wrong with leaving him to his delusions for a little while. ”
It's cute.
Still, all it does is confirm that this job is a complete waste of my time.
“You’re polite but you’re not much of a talker, are you?” Camille tilts her head to look up at me curiously and I shuffle my feet uncomfortably.
Christian was a talker.
I admit, I haven’t been emulating him very well in that regard, but I’m 100% certain that if any conversation goes on too long, they’ll notice I don’t know anything.
Short conversations are the only way to keep up the act as Christian.
The sadness I usually keep boxed up, breaks out of its cage momentarily to prick painfully at my heart.
In the new legacy I’m trying to create for Christian, no one will ever know how easy he was to get along with. How natural his smiles were. How easy it was to lower your guard and feel safe.
Have I ever smiled as Christian?
I try it now, relaxing my shoulders and releasing my tension.
Emulating the smile in the mirror I’d been selfishly keeping to myself in an attempt to keep Christian close, “It’s my first mission as part of Reuben’s squad.
I don’t want anyone to say I lowered my guard too much for a Dayton beauty.
” I throw in Christian’s wink and a piece of the sorrow inside me lightens when Camille chuckles with genuine joy.
Yes, that was the effect Christian had on others.
“Camille, your guests are waiting,” Reuben’s voice cuts through the air so suddenly it leaves me staggering mentally, and the impassiveness has returned to my face once more in an attempt to hide it.
“I think Lucia was searching for you too.” He comes to a stop by my side. “She’s distracted by Tobias right now, but I’m going to need your help saving him.”
Camille barks a laugh, “Alright, alright. I’ll go tear her away. Keep me updated, will you?”
“Will do,” Reuben nods.
He doesn’t look at me and I’m sure to avoid his gaze because remembering Christian has left my feelings bare. I’m scrambling to put them back in the box before he sees them, but the moment Camille is gone, he’s turning to step in front of me, right into my space.
It takes every focused effort I have to not step back.
“Christian.”