Deception

Chapter 10 - A Little Death

Someone pushes past me and I drop my churros, and like I'm reaching for the same happiness I felt seconds ago, I turn to the fallen packet before Silas tugs on my hand.

"The car Catalina."

I look at the shiny black SUV I never noticed a minute ago, parked at the side of the street. Once I get into the back of the car with him, I try to ignore the way his presence soaks up every inch of my attention.

His watch shines against daylight as he rests his hand on his leg. His eyes, knowing, like he's aware of my motives. He just wants to hear them.

Looking around, I see there's only the driver in the front. "Where's...where's Milo?"

"Where did you go without him?" Silas asks, ignoring my question.

"To eat. Its something people do to stay alive."

"I told you to take him with you."

I look out the window as the car starts driving off.  "I've been around enough guards to know I don't need them."

"Yeah? Are you trained?" He asks. He knows damn well I'm not.

"You want me to show you?"

His eyes narrow by an inch. I slowly release a breath as the car turns the corner, hoping I don't look so nervous. But I am, and for all the wrong reasons.

I feel him still watching me, running his eyes from the tapping fingers against my knees to my face, and my body lights up into a flame.

"If you're trying to avoid answering where you were, it's not working."

That's exactly what I'm doing, but I don't know how long it'll last.

His stare hardens from my answering silence, and his assumption comes out rough and low. "You were with a guy."

"I was at a churro stand." I correct.

The mixture of shock and relief in his eyes is priceless. "Without the guard."

"I wanted some fresh air alone."

"You could have been kidnapped."

"Well-"

"If you wanted to get held in a cell and tortured to death you should have fucking asked me. We have men for that."

Irritation bubbles beneath my skin. "Why don't you just do it yourself?!" I burst.

A cold flash passes through his eyes. "Ask me and I will."

Frustration hits my cheeks. Asshole. I bite my tongue to stop myself from responding to him, and force myself to look out the window again. I'd never met a man who made me this angry, and I hate him for it.

I hate sound of my pulse. I hate when I take a deep breath to try and slow it, but end up taking in a masculine, forresty scent.

And then, I wonder how much he puts on everyday. He doesn't drench himself in cologne like the other men in my life, he's not an attention seeker. But he puts enough of it on so anyone up close can smell it.

I blink away the haziness the scent gives me, but then I see a churro stand pass by...

Silas pulls a pack of cigarettes out, the rustling of his shirt the only sound to be heard before my sniffling replaces it. I can't help the tears forming in my eyes, damn my emotions.

His head slowly turns to me. I keep my eyes out the window but he grabs my face, making me face him.

Vehemence flashes through his gaze, but it disappears within a second. "Why are you crying."