She folded her arms across her chest and blew out a long breath.
He sipped his coffee and then continued, “No men in your life, Kyla? Did you leave Ottawa with a broken heart? Or did you break someone else’s heart?”
She closed her eyes tight and shook her head slowly, pain etched on her face.
“Ah; bingo. Well, no one is worried, Kyla. I was convincing. Just relax and enjoy my company for a little while, like I’m enjoying yours. I’ve done this so you can let all that stress you’re feeling go.”
“Like you know or care how I feel.”
“You might be surprised how much I do. I know I’m surprised,” he said softly.
“My life might not be ‘all that’,” she gestured with mock quotes, “but it is mine! And whatever I do make of it, I’ll do it on my own. I owe nothing to nobody. No help, no DNA, no support, nothing will get me ahead but me, and I’ll do it, too.” He looked at her with pity.
She folded her arms even tighter across her chest. Screw him and his pity. She didn’t want it, “Why would you bring my things here? Just how long are you planning to keep me here?”
He shrugged, “We’ll have to see what happens.”
“What about when I go back to my life? I won’t have a paycheque, any place to live? I have bills to pay. Like… bills that are due in a few days! I have responsibilities. They’ll fire me. Daisy’ll find a new roommate.”
“Don’t worry about any of it. You don’t have to worry about anything. Not a thing.”
“What does that mean? The only way I have nothing to worry about is if I’m dead. You are going to kill me, aren’t you?”
“No. All you need to know is that I’m taking care of you for the foreseeable future. That’s all.”
“What the heck do you mean foreseeable future?” She glared her ugliest, nastiest, meanest look she could muster at him.
“Just what it sounds like.”
She had no words.
He smiled at her warmly, “Don’t go detonating on me, cherry bomb. Let’s just take it a day at a time. Don’t stress. I’ve taken care of everything. When we get all this figured out, you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Clearly you’re thinking more than a few days ahead. And why should I trust a kidnapping raping vampire who can’t handle the word No and eats virgins for breakfast?”
He leaned forward and planted his chin on his palm and stared, smiling. She glared harder. He chuckled. She wanted to throw something at him.
“Have some coffee, Kyla. Lack of caffeine is making you grumpy.”
“You’re making me grumpy. Just who do you think you are, anyway? What kind of an egotistical megalomaniac just scoops someone out of their life and keeps them prisoner for his own amusement?”
He didn’t answer.
“I don’t wanna be here. I want you to let me go.”
He blinked at her and said nothing.
“Seriously!”
“I know you’re serious.”
“But you don’t care?”
“I care. Surprisingly.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Drink your coffee, Kyla.”
Kyla let out a little “grrr” and took a sip of her coffee. She didn’t expect it to taste so good. She quickly took a second sip and then took a deep breath and closed her eyes, in coffee ecstasy. This was some seriously good coffee and she knew her coffee. She quirked up her brows.
Wait a second…
It tasted like the coffee from the shop down the street from the diner she’d worked at. Gramps’ diner had lousy coffee so every morning she’d sneak in a cup from the café down the street and pour it into the diner’s branded travel mug. Moe, the owner, knew all about it but let her away with it. It was a little joke among a few of the morning regulars who had seen her in the other café before her shift.
“Coffee’s terrible today, Kyla,” one patron would say almost every day.
“Coffee’s lousy, Moe,” she’d shout back over the counter at him.
“Ack!” He’d always say, waving his hand at her.
“I don’t know why yours is? Mine’s fine,” she’d wink at the regular and they’d share a knowing smirk.
This was the good stuff. It had to be the house blend from the Bohemian café.
“Where did you get this coffee?” Kyla asked Tristan, eyeing him suspiciously.
Tristan was studying her quietly, still smiling. He didn’t answer.
She avoided his piercing gaze and looked down into the courtyard. It was landscaped beautifully around the perimeter. Climbing vines with colourful flowers scaled the wall opposite her and there were baskets along the railing of the balcony filled with various ivy plants and flowers. She inhaled and her nostrils filled with scent in layers. Fresh coffee, the floral aroma, plus that Tristan smell, that desserty--- her breath caught for a moment and her train of thought halted. How could she even notice the beauty around her when everything was so messed up? Maybe avoidance was helping her cope. The coffee orgasm was screwing with her common sense, perhaps.