Chapter Nineteen #2
Damon chuckles, bringing the older man’s gaze to us. “She had us all fooled. She very much knows how to sign; she just kept it to herself for years. Cunning little thing.”
Enrique smiles at Raven adoringly and puts a hand over hers, squeezing it and she smiles back at him as though her grandfather hung the moon.
“That she is. There was many a time when she terrorized the staff here as a child, playing pranks. Sneaky little fox.” He shakes his head.
“And yet, I could never bring myself to discipline her.”
I almost blurt out for him not to worry, that I do a pretty good job of disciplining her, but I bide my tongue.
It is also incredible to see my usual dark and dreary siren so lit up by someone that loves her so unconditionally and I wonder if this is how she was before her attack.
I once likened her the Persephone to my Hades, and the more I am around her, the more I want to see my woman happy.
Although I do love the darkness within her and the fishnets… they make pink fishnets, don’t they?
Fuck, I’m getting hard under the table thinking about her wearing pink fishnets and little fairy wings, how delectable she’d look hanging from the ceiling at Inferno.
I almost miss the entire conversation. Damon squeezes my shoulder, standing from behind me and I tear my gaze from Raven, so pretty in pink. “Hmm?”
The handsome psychiatrist grins, “We’re no longer needed.”
“Oh,” I stand, stretch out my hand to shake Enrique’s hand, which is firm and lightly calloused, thank him for the amazing breakfast and then grab the plate of sweetbreads and refill my coffee mug, and that causes him to chuckle.
“My kitchen is always open to my granddaughter and her… friends.”
“We aren’t her friends , sir. I’m going to marry her.
” Jonas says matter-of-factly, and this makes Enrique give Jonas a double take and he stands as well, uncaring that his chair slightly screeches as it pushes back with his legs.
“We all are, if it’s possible. We love your granddaughter, Mr. Paloma.
We will do whatever we can to protect her, do whatever we can to make sure she’s happy and we’ll do whatever we can…
to make sure the people that did this to her are brought to justice. That’s why we’re here.”
Enrique eyes Jonas, taking an unusually long perusal of him from eyes to toes and back up, only to look at Raven who gets to her feet, a lot more graciously than Jonas did and threads her fingers between his, obviously letting the older man know it’s true, and when his gaze meets mine and Damon's we nod.
Enrique surprises me by simply nodding his head in understanding.
“Then we must talk.” He replies to Jonas.
Damon once again squeezes my shoulder and jerks his chin to the door. “Come on. We're not needed. This is between them.”
________
The flight back to Massachusetts the next morning is serene.
Jonas and Siren are sleeping soundly in the pod-like chairs, not even the slight turbulence we encounter wakes them, letting me know they’re so used to this, boarding private jets and taking off on a whim to not just a different time zone but an entirely different country and I can’t help the small feeling of envy that eats at me.
Damon is on his tablet, entranced by whatever he's doing that he pays me no mind. It’s quiet, save for the low whirring of the plane's engines and Jonas' soft snores.
My thoughts go back to walking the historical paths of Barcelona while Raven and Jonas spoke with Enrique behind closed doors and then left to God knows where.
We're casually walking through the throngs of tourists and townsfolk in the Spanish square, the old cobblestone streets beneath our feet a visual and physical reminder of how much history was around us when Damon stopped in front of an old boutique’s window, looking at the Christmas display.
“What are you getting Raven for Christmas? ”
“Uhhh…” what an asinine response, I know. “I hadn’t really thought that far into it, yet.” I reply honestly. “What does one give someone that can afford the world?”
Damon looks over at me as though I’m the world’s biggest idiot. “Something from the heart.”
I roll my eyes. “Christ you sound like a jewelry store chain commercial.”
“And yet she’s anything but a plain, white diamond, isn’t she?” He said, moving toward the next window. A full display of little marionette dolls hang loosely in what looks like sixteenth century fashion.
I grunted at him in agreement as we stopped at a Café, ordered a strawberry smoothie and kept walking. “What are we doing here that we couldn’t do in back home?”
“Getting supplies so they can’t be traced back to her.”
“Guns?” I asked and Damon threw his head back barking out a laugh.
“Christ, this isn’t a mafia movie. No . Not guns. Just something that’s in still in season here.”
I grunted again as Damon hailed a taxi to take us back to a different part of the city and I threw away my plastic smoothie cup in a recycling bin.
Jonas and Raven were gone with Enrique for almost six hours by the time we got back from touring, having had a delicious crustacean dinner by the sea, and returned barely four hours before we boarded the jet with a new briefcase holding something inside that clinked just a little every time it was moved.
My knee bounces as I stare at the thing, feeling like Poe in The Tell-Tale Heart, hearing the clinks every time the turbulence is subtle but there.
“Quarter for your thoughts?” Damon says and I snap my sight to his silver stare. I know his little joke is from when I once told him my thoughts were worth more than a penny.
“What’s in there?”
“Vials. ”
This vagueness in his tone irks me. “Of?” I practically snarl.
“It’s not drugs.”
“Oh, what a fucking relief.” That one is a snarl.
Damon sets down his tablet and focuses solely on me, interlocking his fingers together and settled them on his abs. “We will tell you it all once it’s done and over with, Maverick.”
I take off my glasses and pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m honestly surprised I haven’t had a migraine since we’ve all come back together, but that doesn’t mean being out of the loop grates on my nerves at times. “Could you just give me peace of mind?”
“It’s strawberry extract.”
“We flew across an entire ocean for strawberry extract?” He has to be lying to me. he probably should be lying to me.
“No. Raven and Jonas flew across the ocean so he could meet her grandfather, where he took them to Huelva by helicopter to see where the strawberries he pays good people to tend year-round for his hotel grow and they brought back samples of the extract they use for their desserts.”
“You and I both know she doesn’t bake. Our little heiress can barely make the bagel toaster function properly.”
Damon bites back a grin. He knows I’m right. Our girl is beautiful, but she can’t cook worth a damn. “Be that as it may, that’s all you need to know.”
“And if they ask why we were all together?”
“I’m her counselor and was asked or paid to come along just in case. You and I saw this as an opportunity to have another mini vacation as a couple .”
I need a fucking drink.
By the time we land, it’s barely two PM our time and fatigue is settling in my bones. Jonas is playing tonight, which is why we’ve let him sleep so much during our flight and in two days, it’s Sofia’s extravagant holiday party.
Something Damon is invited to, and I’ll be going as his plus-one.
I’ll be meeting the great, John Weston Monroe and his wife, Sofia Paloma-Monroe, my girlfriend’s parents… as her doctor’s boyfriend .
What the fuck have I allowed my life to become?