Chapter 8. #2
It feels like I’ve done something wrong, but I don’t think I have. Still, I try to brace myself as much as I can before meeting his gaze.
Reuben’s eyes are cold, but there’s a scary smile touching his lips, “I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck—
Reuben steps closer and though I hold my ground, I can feel the tension in my back and shoulders. Tension that is somehow made worse by the scent of him, a soft, deep trace of woods and pine that makes my insides soften and those shivers start up at the base of my spine again.
Stars, that must be dread.
“Have you forgotten what I said already about flirting with our clients?”
Reuben, I think we had that conversation in a completely different setting.
But I can't say that. He's too close. His grey suit is tight around his body and his jacket is open.
The top buttons of his collared shirt are undone and I can practically see the toned muscle beneath the surface.
Dark strands of hair fall across his face, with stormy eyes hiding behind them and for the first time, I'm noticing the piercing on the edge of his right ear.
“Me estás mirando fijamente, estrellito?” Reuben’s eyes darken, his mother tongue tumbling from his lips in a low murmur that breaks me out of my ridiculous daze.
“I didn't mean to,” I speak quickly just in case he really does feel inclined to shoot Camille like he promised, “I just wanted her to feel more at ease.”
Reuben hums for a moment through disbelieving eyes and for a moment I can’t tell yet if he’s going to shoot me.
I suppose flirting with clients does make Christian look unprofessional. If I keep doing it then maybe it’ll hurt how he's perceived in the future.
My stance straightens, “I didn’t mean to be unprofessional. I’ll be sure not to get too close in the future.”
He barks a laugh and releases a stream of Spanish that’s too fast for me to make out before stepping back with an expression that is quite visibly ire, that strange expression from a moment ago so quickly gone.
“Just watch your checkpoints and keep an eye out for anything suspicious.” He doesn’t even wait for all the words to leave his mouth before walking away.
Music starts up across the deck, but there’s a simmering bitterness in my stomach that roots me to the spot, tension in my shoulders that wasn't there when Camille was here.
And the terrifying suspicion that Reuben sees through me.
It's like a nagging warning in my chest, even when I move from that spot at the edge of the deck and make my way to the first checkpoint, the gangway.
Xavier and Tobias are there, dressed in sleek black suits, but my mind is too muffled to give them any more than a nod of acknowledgement.
From what I understand, our team is responsible for the security of the event as Miss Dayton’s detail, so the boarding of the guests is our responsibility.
I’d made sure to create a mental checklist of what to look for, but the moment I stepped forward to do the usual body checks, Tobias was pulling me back by the collar with a forced professional smile.
“This is a high society event,” he’s practically glaring with his eyes as he talks through his teeth, “just make sure their invitation matches what's in the book.”
My eyes narrow.
You're kidding.
Tobias gestures to the deck with a sweep of his hand and the couple I was about to pat down waltzes through with grateful smiles.
“Some of the people here are serious hotshots, traitor-killer.” Tobias pats my shoulders reassuringly as he whispers in my ear. “If you touch them, you'll be sleeping with the fishes before the party even starts.”
I can’t say I understand the point of security then?
But I’m not exactly ‘people’ so no, no questions here.
Thankfully, the boarding of the guests goes smoothly after that, and before the party begins, the ship breaks away from the harbour and the guests linger to watch the sight.
When the mingling begins, Camille is the centre of attention, drawing everyone's gazes, both critical and congratulatory.
I’m sure to stay on the outer edge of the deck as I do my rounds, but once or twice a guest glances at me, and I nod my head in greeting.
Compared to most of the missions I’d followed Christian on, it’s a quiet job.
It’s kind of... nice, and for a moment, I allow myself to be swept up by it—the elegance, the decorations and fancy clothes.
The wine glasses and pool games, the sound of the waves and the rocking of the tide, the quiet stream of laughter over soft music.
.. It sucks me back to a past where people were only figures on a screen.
In a world where there was no such thing as beauty or laughter—colour or connection.
1,323 days. And finally I’m a part of it. Finally, I’m not the one looking in from the outside—
The light joy in my chest is immediately extinguished by a sharp and painful reminder.
I only exist right now for Christian.
I’m not here to play around in Christian’s body or dig myself too deep into any of these new connections.
This life isn’t mine.
But maybe… after... maybe I won’t have to sleep on the curb anymore.
Maybe I won't have to steal food, or make my bed in the dark and the rain, or go back to watching from the outside.
Maybe I’ll have learned enough to become something of my own.
“Never thought I'd see one of Reuben’s men zoning out on the job.” A small voice breaks me out of my thoughts, feathery and melodic, and my eyes are pulled towards a woman's bright brown eyes.
She's my height with lush lips and freckles across her cheeks, and her long black hair is woven together to fall across her chest. I'm not used to beauty standards, but even I can tell she's adorable.
Maybe that's why she has a tattoo snaking up her chest—a skeleton’s fingers cupping her throat.
“… I'm not,” I say finally.
She hums, but there's a gentleness to her eyes as she places a round glass in my hands, filled with brown liquid. “Well, you should. You look like you need a drink.”
“Why would I need a drink?”
Her eyes soften, and her next words are quiet, “You looked like you were remembering something painful.”
I’m opening my mouth to refuse her but memories of rainy alleyways and cold pavements are still close to the surface. My mouth closes soundlessly.
“If Reuben spots me with this in my hand I'm as good as dead,” I mumble but the mysterious beauty only smiles cheekily.
“Then take a quick swig, silly. I won't tell. Hurry up before he really comes over.”
I’m sure there's a rule somewhere about accepting drinks from strangers, but one moment I'm eyeing the glass suspiciously and the next, I'm bringing it to my lips quickly, before my bravery runs out.
I'm not sure what's come over me—maybe those lonely memories resurfaced a bit too close to my heart.
The moment I swallow my stolen sip, my face contorts and all I feel is regret.
“Fuck. What is that?” It tastes like—like—I don't even know. It's bitter. Sour? Fiery?
Why would they make drinks fiery?
The lady who I'm certain just made an attempt on my life is giggling at my reaction, “It’s a dirty viper.”
Before I can stop myself, the new fire settles in my stomach and drawing my brows together, “You drink snakes?”
The woman’s chuckles become more uncontrollable, completely unaware of my rapid descent into panic.
“Oh, you're a sweetie.” Her smile is bright. “Is this your first drink?”
What’s a sweetie? I have to bite my tongue to keep from asking. What the fuck is in this drink? I squint into it as though it'll tell me the answer. I’d seen people go for drinks in movies and it always looked so fun…
Alas, it was another lie.
She takes the glass back from me, barely managing to stop her laughter, “That’s just how they’re named sometimes, silly. To make it more fun.”
New rule.
No drinking.
“I’m Lucia.” The woman holds her other hand out for a formal handshake, “Lucia Ambrose. Camille’s plus one.”
The name is barely familiar after hearing it only once, but I'm able to put two and two together enough to shake her hand, “Christian.”
“Camille told me you might want some company.”
A small smile touches my lips, “I'm sorry to tell you, but Camille’s real mission might've been to rescue Tobias.”
Lucia's eyes widen with visible horror, “She said that?”
“No, just Reuben.”
Lucia flushes even as she glares, “Tobias hasn't turned me away outright just yet. I can keep trying until I get a for sure red light.”
“Are you trying to convince me?” My smile is growing.
She’s practically pink with embarrassment, “Why—Why would I convince you?”
She's trying to play it cool but to me she just looks like an anxious cat, with all its hairs on end.
A small sound bubbles up in my throat, and it takes me a while to realize I'm chuckling. Her eyes widen slightly at the sound before her shoulders relax and a small smile touches her lips.
And it's a strange feeling in my chest.
A new feeling.
“How long have you known Camille?” I ask, but I’m stepping away to continue my rounds just in case Reuben appears out of nowhere like before. And Lucia comes into step right beside me without question.
And I lose track of time as she accompanies me like that. I'm not sure why she stays with me, but I don't mind it. The company is... nice. Genuinely nice.
She and Camille met a few years ago at an art gallery. Their lives are so busy they don't get to see each other often but they are very good friends; her eyes brighten noticeably when she talks about her.
But the moment I step towards the east side of the boat, towards the pool and across from the bar, Lucia grabs hold of my arm with a strange light in her eyes.
“Um, Christian, I think I need another drink,” her voice wavers slightly and I can't help but pause.
The change in her is almost... visceral. A sudden tension in her shoulders, an awkwardness to her smile… but I’ve never been known for tact. Failed to blend in because of it, actually.
“What's wrong?” I’m alert as I scan her for obvious signs of distress. Maybe her tall shoes have finally started to hurt and she needs to sit down.
She tries to relax her smile but it only comes off forced and we know it. I don't think she's aware of how tightly she's gripping my sleeve, or how much deeper she's suddenly stepped into my space…
She can’t help it, she’s so flustered that her eyes dart behind me, and I turn to follow her gaze.
“Christian,” she tugs me back with a soft warning, but I ignore her until I see him. See them. Hidden in the shadows of the hall that leads down to the lower decks, like spectres.
Two men in crisp suits. Not yet adults. Not still boys.
I've seen the eyes of lecherous men before. In the alleys and backways of Portland. Christian wouldn't have hesitated to kill men with those eyes in those alleyways.
Suddenly, I am understanding better.
Lucia had been sticking close to Tobias the moment she boarded.
And now she's sticking close to me.
I don't take my eyes off the two men in the dark. “You are frightened,” I realize quietly.
“I’m not.” She's still trying to convince me with her false smile, and steps into my line of sight in an attempt to break my gaze. “Come, let's go for another dirty viper.”
“Why don't you tell anyone?” I ignore her words to hold her gaze with creased brows, “If you'd told Tobias, he would've—”
“He would've killed them,” she finishes for me with a piercing look. “You have no idea who they are. Their family is not to be messed with.”
“Reuben’s family isn't to be messed with,” I remind her sharply. “Are you really going to cower from them all night?” Before she can respond, I'm stepping away from her and towards them, pulled by a familiar simmering in my blood.
She blocks my way with a hiss, “Christian, stop.”
“I'm throwing them overboard right now.” My eyes lock with hers in silent promise, but there's only shock on her face.
“You—You can't—”
“I can.”
“Well, you shouldn't,” she snaps. “You have no idea what you're getting into.”
I never have, honestly.
“Maybe your team is used to killing people,” her voice falls to a hissed whisper, “but just because it’s your job, doesn't make it normal. And it doesn't make it right.”
“Those aren't people, Lucia. Eyes like theirs,” I look back at them, “they're monsters. And I may not know much,” my eyes meet hers, “but I at least know it takes monsters to kill monsters.”
Lucia’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly, her stare even more piercing than before, until she gives up with words and rests her drink down on one of the open tables with a firm sound that makes my brows furrow.
“I thought Reuben fell out of touch by reaching his hand out to you.” Disappointment dims her eyes and her nose wrinkles with new distaste, “But you're right. You’re just another monster.”
There's an immediate sting in my heart.
“You're no different from them. So do whatever you want. But leave me out of it,” she turns away.
“Lucia—” I step forward, but she’s already gone, weaving away from me and into the crowd.
There's a spark of self-loathing in my stomach, because I still don't understand. She wanted protection but not violence? But in the world I've seen up close, the world Christian and Reuben are a part of, violence does solve everything. You're only safe when you get rid of your enemies...
But even so, the warmth of another person is gone again...
And it feels like a glimpse of the past, and a vision of the future phasing into one.
A future where I remain constant and everyone disappears. Leaving me cold and alone at the side of a rainy road, tucked into my own wet fur.
“Christian.” Reuben’s voice is sharp in my ear, on the private line on the comms, and the sinking feeling in my chest can’t possibly sink any lower.
His command is sharp, but there’s an impatience in his voice that sets a new wave of exasperation across my spine as he speaks.
“Come here.”