Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)

I swung back my leg to kick the buffet table, but I caught myself, stopping. It was, like, expensive, and an antique and shit, so…

Pulling the curtain back again, I kept an eagle-eye out, making sure she didn’t try to run off with them or something. The passenger side window rolled down, and I spotted the younger one with the black Mohawk in the seat.

She slipped the bowls in through the window, and the kid sniffed it, looking pleased. She spoke to them for a few minutes, sparing a few glances back at me, and I finally let the curtain go, leaving her to it.

I didn’t like how they looked at her. Like they had more of a right to her attention.

But I guess, who wouldn’t want her attention? Nikova Banks was a beautiful woman.

Seeing her in that dress today in the church was as close as I’d come to losing complete control. I was at war with myself the entire ceremony. She hid so much under her clothes, but that dress certainly brought it all out. The smooth skin and incredible curves…

Her hair, her make-up…. I didn’t know why she’d gotten herself done up—I didn’t for one moment think it was for me.

The front door opened, and she entered the dining room, seeming a little calmer.

We held each other

’s eyes, and I felt a pang of need for her. For a chance to salvage what this day had turned into and treat her well.

But I didn’t deserve her. No matter what she’d done or how her choices had hurt me, I’d taken her hand today with as much force as I’d taken her innocence in that room in The Pope. She needed to be left alone.

I gestured to the table for her to sit and eat.

She sat down and placed her bowl in front of her, picking up the fork. But she stopped, noticing my bowl with a set of chopsticks laying across the top.

Finding a spare pair on the table, she put her fork down and picked up the sticks. Of course, she probably had no interest in using them. I’d just given her a fork, and it was her stubborn nature that you didn’t tell Banks what she could and couldn’t do. It was the problem of me assuming she’d want a fork.

She tried to fit them in her fingers, but they kept slipping.

I walked over to her right side and reached out. “Like this.”

I took them in my fingers, ignoring her scowl as I fit both between my forefinger and middle finger, using the latter to steady and the former to control movement. I bobbed my pointer finger up and down, showing her that was the one that moved. Opening it wide, I picked up a piece of cabbage and closed it, securing it between the sticks.

“I can do it,” she said, snatching them back.

And she did. Within a few more tries she had the hold right and was able to pick up her food and get it into her mouth, albeit shakily. The platinum band on her finger gleamed in the soft light of the chandelier, I felt a pang of guilt now that I’d calmed down. She should have a diamond on her hand.

“They’re called hashi,” I told her, gesturing to the chopsticks. “In Japanese.”

Rising, I picked up a small, ceramic chopstick rest and set it in front of her. “And this is called hashioki. When you’re not eating, you rest the ends of your chopsticks on here. Or,” I pointed out, gesturing to my bowl. “You can lay them across your dish. But not in the food and never crossed.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s…rude,” I told her. There was another reason having to do with deceased people and offerings and traditions, but I had a feeling that would only incite her rebellion.

I sat back down, letting her eat. My head was swimming. I’d be lucky if I got any sleep tonight.

I had to get the guys who were outside rooms in here and get them on payroll. As well as figure out what they hell they were going to be doing for me.

I had to get back down to Sensou and meet with the insurance adjuster. Figure out what the next step was. Would we reopen?

I needed to see my parents, too. I was surprised I wasn’t getting calls tonight, in fact. If they hadn’t heard yet, they would soon. Surprisingly, I wasn’t really sorry. I just didn’t like explaining myself. Probably because I couldn’t.

And tomorrow was Devil’s Night. We still hadn’t found where Damon was hiding out, so he might be on us before we were on him. Or maybe nothing would happen. Maybe Rika was right, and he was fucking with us.

I still needed to deal with him, though. I couldn’t keep going, having things hanging over my head. Maybe we’d just bring everyone here for the night. Put the place on lockdown.

She finished her bowl and looked into the larger one, seeing if there was any left. I smiled, liking that she clearly enjoyed my cooking. Steaks and all.