“I’m not amused,” Alessio says, “I want to know where my sister is.”
“Val doesn’t want to be found,” the man says, and stupidly, I nod.
Alessio narrows his eyes. “You stalled in the bathroom so Val would have time to sneak out and take my plane.”
“He’ll know if you lie,” the man says while Alessio grabs whipped cream and moves to the bar. Leo throws his head back, and I stick my hand out to catch him in case he leans too far back and falls. Alessio inverts the can over Leo’s mouth. He fills it with whipped cream, then offers me some.
His proximity makes me nervous, but still, I nod. I’m sure I’m red-faced, and I wish I wasn’t so he won’t notice how attractive I find him even after he put me through the wringer.
Alessio stretches out his hand and puts cream into my cup. Without a word, he moves on the other side of the island, telling me in no words he is disappointed, and I’m being punished. For a people pleaser like I am, that stings. And he damn well knows it.
Alessio leans against the stove, and I watch his prominent Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the whipped cream he’s spraying down his throat.
“My turn, my turn,” the boy shouts.
Alessio tosses the bottle of whipped cream to Leo, who doesn’t even flinch at Alessio’s aggressive energy. The boy finishes the cream and hops off the chair.
“Can we eat burgers later?”
“Mmhm,” Alessio says.
“With greasy, disgusting fries?”
“Mmhm.”
“And a full cup of carbonated soda?”
“Every day, if you wish,” Alessio says.
“I wish,” Leo says, then salutes Alessio (oh, how appropriate!) before leaving. “I’m off to nap. See you guys later.”
Alessio hurls the whipped cream can into the trash and resumes brooding on the other end of the island.
“What’s he doing now?” the man on the phone asks me.
Alessio’s watching me, blue eyes narrowed. “I feel like an insect on a tray in a biology class.”
“Good,” the man says. “Relay the conversation you had with Val from start to finish.”
I tell the two men everything. Every single thing I recall from our conversation, and while I speak, Alessio is like a statue. He doesn’t nod or shake his head, and he might not even be blinking. I’m unsure if he’s breathing, actually.
Once I’m finished talking, he stares at the floor.
This gives me an opportunity to watch him, and I have to say, he looks mighty fine in this suit. Sharp. Like the edge of a blade. If one touches him, one will bleed. And it’s not a paper-cut kind of a bleed because Alessio can’t be bothered with tiny cuts. If he’s determined to cut you, you’ll bleed to death.
I wonder when I’ll bleed.
Tonight, maybe. Tomorrow, next day, next month. How long can I keep doing this? Will it be him or the sadist who’ll kill me?
The man speaks something in a foreign language, to which Alessio replies, and they hang up.
“Was that Russian?” I ask.
“No.”
I lean in, expecting him to follow up with which language they spoke, but Alessio slams his palms on the kitchen island and spreads his fingers. His long fingers he uses to do whatever he wants to do to my body.
“Val left you in charge of my nephew. This is highly unusual and unsettling, as I know nothing about you beyond the ordinary background checks she ran before hiring you.”
