The King(161)

As they settled the woman into the passenger seat and her suitcase in the back, Sola searched the rear of the house. Just as before, she expected to see him, maybe running through the main room to get to her before she left. Maybe coming up from the basement and shooting through the mudroom to come out. Maybe skidding around the corner from having been upstairs …
At that moment, something strange happened. Every window in the house had a sudden shimmer to it, the glass panes between the sills and the flat plates of the sliding doors showing a subtle twinkle.
What the—
Shutters, she thought. There were shutters coming across the windows, the subtle movement the kind of thing you’d miss … unless you were looking in at the very second it happened. Afterward? It was as if nothing had changed. All the furniture was still visible, the lights on, normal, normal, normal.
Another of his security tricks, she thought.
Taking her time opening her door, she put one foot in and craned around. The two bodyguards had stood back and crossed their arms.
She wanted to tell them … but no, they didn’t seem like they were interested in carrying a message back to Assail.
They looked downright pissed off now that they’d gotten her grandmother safely into the sedan.
Sola waited for a moment longer, eyes fixed on that open rear door. Through the jambs, she looked at the shoes and the coats in that back hall. So ordinary-looking—well, ordinary for a rich person. But the house wasn’t Middle America anything, and not just because it was probably worth five million. Or ten.
Turning away, she slid behind the wheel, closed herself in, and got a good whiff of lemon air freshener. Under which was the faint stinky haze of cigarette smoke.
“I no know why we have to leave.”
“I know, vovó. I know.”
The tinny-sounding engine jumped to what little life it had and she put the car in reverse. K-turning, she gave that open door one last look.
And then there were no more excuses to linger.
Hitting the gas, she blinked hard as the headlights illuminated the driveway and then the one-lane road that would take them off the peninsula.
He was not going to come after her.
“You make a mistake,” her grandmother said on a huff. “Big mistake.”
But you don’t know the whole story, Sola thought as she came up to a stop sign and hit her directional signal.
What Sola was unaware of, however … was that neither did she.
Assail watched the departure from the ring of trees behind the rear of his home.
Through the windows of the kitchen, he saw her standing by the table, rifling through a suitcase as if searching for something she was leaving behind.
Out here, my love, he thought. What you have lost is out here.
And then her grandmother made an appearance with the cousins, and it was clear that the female did not approve of the leaving.
Just one more thing to adore about her.
It was also obvious that the cousins were against this. Then again, they had never eaten so well, and they had respect for anyone who would stand up to them.
Not a problem with Marisol’s grandmahmen.
As Assail played witness to his female searching about as if she were waiting for him to present himself, there was a small satisfaction in her sadness. But the overriding imperative was to convince his inner beast to let her choose the path she had.
He could not argue with the self-preservation—just as he could not vow to disengage from his business. He had worked too long and hard to fade into a lifestyle of sedentary nights … even if they were spent with her. Besides, he had the worry that things were not done with the Benloise family yet. Only time would tell if there was another brother out there, or mayhap some cousin with a greedy eye and a heart of vengeance for what had been served unto his blood.
She would be safer without him.
As Marisol put her luggage in the boot of the car, her grandmother was accommodated to the front of the vehicle. And there was another pause. Indeed, as she glanced around, he felt she must have seen him—but no. Her eyes passed o’er him in his shadowed hiding spot.
Into the car. Shutting the door. Starting the engine. Turning about.
Then all there was … were brake lights disappearing down his drive.
The cousins loitered only for a moment. Unlike his female, they knew exactly where he was, but they did not approach. They retreated into the house, leaving the door open for him to use when he could stand the rising sun no longer.
His heart was howling in his chest when he finally stepped free of where he had tucked himself.
Walking across the snow, his body was loose-jointed to the point where he wondered if he would collapse. And his head was spinning ’round and ’round—his intestines as well. The only thing that was solid were his male instincts, which were bloody incessant that he needed to go out to the road in front of her, brace himself before that cheap-ass car, and demand that she turn around and come back home.