Chapter 16 #2
“Only child,” she said. I couldn’t say I was surprised.
“Did you ever want siblings?” I asked, curious how many texts I would have waiting from my sisters.
How hard they’d laugh when I told them I got trapped, since they knew how much I hated this piece of shit.
I definitely wouldn’t tell them who I was stuck with, that would lead to endless nosy questions.
“That’s two questions,” she said, accompanied by a know-it-all grin.
“That’s a reasonable follow-up question.”
“Your questions should be more strategic,” she made a magnanimous hand wave. “Would you like a do-over?”
“Did you ever have or want siblings?”
“Better question,” she said, uncrossing and re-crossing her ankles. “Not really, as a kid. I didn’t want to compete for my parents’ attention.”
I tilted my head. That’s how she would see a sibling, as competition instead of a playmate?
But something about her answer caught my attention. “Sure, as a kid. But as an adult …”
Her lips pressed together.
“That’s not another question, just waiting patiently for you to finish your answer.”
Her lips pressed into a firm line. “In law school, when Alexander’s brother Nick lived with us, they rolled me into the fold, three peas in a pod.” The pointy toes of her heels tapped against each other. “When he asked me to move here, he said those summers were the happiest he’d been as an adult.”
Her forlorn expression revealed she felt the same, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Damn, it was harder to see her sad. I found myself wishing for her icy glare again.
Wanting to get back on the solid ground of disliking Alex, I impulsively asked, “So why’d you dump him?”
She ran a finger over her mouth in a ‘lips sealed’ gesture. “Truth or dare?”
I knew if I said Truth, she’d ask about my criminal record. She knew I knew. I worried what she would think. Plus I wanted to see what happened if I said … “Dare.”
“I dare you to be silent for one minute straight.”
I silently started the timer on my phone. Our eyes met, her gaze challenging me. I licked my bottom lip, and those intense silver eyes tracked it as her neck flushed.
After about 20 seconds, I let her win our staring contest, sliding her heels off.
“What are you …?”
I recreated her ‘lips sealed’ motion, then started massaging the ball of her foot, pressing my thumb into her arch.
Her teeth scraped over her bottom lip. My hands explored her heel, her sole, her toes … even a ticklish spot and she pulled away as the stopwatch went off. I clicked off the timer and reached for the other foot. “Truth or dare?”
Knowing I’d ask that lingering follow-up question about dumping Alex, her chin lifted defiantly. “Dare.”
“I dare you to sing me a song," I said without a moment's hesitation.
“No.”
“Then I dare you to answer the question about why you dumped Alex.”
“That’s not a dare.”
“Then I dare you to take off your shirt,” I said cheekily.
Her eyes widened. She scowled at her silk blouse. “It’s truth or dare, not strip poker.”
“I'd never go up against Lil Miss RBF in poker, you’d destroy me,” I said and she chuckled appreciatively. “I’d be naked in a few hands. I mean, I’m already halfway there, and we haven’t—”
“Cruz? You still there?” Tracy’s metallic voice clanked.
I knelt close. “Still here.”
“I called Ms. Blackstone’s partner, he said he’ll reschedule the meetings,” she said. Victoria exhaled in relief.
“Any update from the fire department?”
“They’re 25 minutes out.”
I thanked Tracy and settled along my wall. Victoria wiggled her toes with a hopeful lift of her eyebrow.
I took her foot again. “Where were we?”
“Truth or dare.”
“Nope, you were about to sing me a song,” I said, feigning nonchalance but dying to hear anything she’d give me. “The alphabet. Mary Had a Little Lamb. Copacabana.” I looked around our mirrored jail and sang a line from Aerosmith’s ‘Love in an Elevator.’
She picked at a cuticle. “Three years ago he was my date to a family wedding. After meeting them, he dumped me on the flight home. Truth or dare?”
Her eyes glistened with veiled pain. She’d given me more than she needed to as a gesture of goodwill … and to earn my answer. “Truth.”
“Why did you have to choose between military conscription and juvenile detention?”
I pressed my knuckles into her sole. “Aggravated assault, second degree.”
She stilled. Her usual coolness felt like a reprieve, giving me the benefit of the doubt.
“Second degree,” she repeated. Her gaze rolled to the ceiling, probably drudging up long-buried criminal law lessons. “What was your weapon?”
I held up my hands, balled them into fists and feigned a punch, then returned them to her feet so she wouldn't notice they were shaking.
“Who?” she whispered.
If I didn’t answer, she would respect my boundary … but it might worry her. Right now her foot was pliant in my hands, but I didn’t want her to pull away.
“I got into a lot of fights in school. Harmless shit, playground scuffles. I could usually charm my way out, but sometimes they came to blows.” I chuckled nervously.
“Hard to believe, but sixteen-year-old Cruz was a bit of a lady’s man.
I hooked up with girls, then got challenged by their brothers. And boyfriends.”
Her cautious expression lightened.
“Usually the fights broke up quickly, until one guy threatened to do to my little sister what I did to his, whether she liked it or not.” I met Victoria’s eyes. “She was eleven.”
She gasped.
“He spent three days in the hospital. His lawyers argued that since I had my brown belt, my attack could be classified as assault with a deadly weapon.” I cleared my throat, stretching out my fingers.
“My stepdad made a deal with the judge that if I kept my hands clean until I was 18, my records would be expunged and I’d join the military to get out of town.
He was a karate sensei, so to keep me out of trouble until I could enlist, I spent two years apprenticing at his dojo.
Before I left, I made sure my sisters could protect themselves. ”
I saw respect in her eyes. “That’s why you teach self-defense?”
“If they ever feel threatened, they can kick ass.”
“How many sisters do you have?”
“Two. Adriana is 21, she’s a hair and makeup artist,” I wiggled my chipped purple fingernails at Victoria. “And Luisa is 19, the first in our family to go to college.”
She shifted like her ass was falling asleep. I slid my hand up to her ankle, pulling slightly to loosen her hip, and the tension in her face softened.
Then I made the biggest dare of all. “You want me to teach you?”