CHAPTER NINE

ALICIA

After our almost kiss, followed by holding hands as stunning fireworks popped in the sky above us, Nick had said nothing to me. Nada.

He’d muttered something about the perimeter, which we’d already cleared earlier, and in the two days since that night, zilch. Not a thing outside of “good morning” and “good night.”

Fun times.

I was so sure that we’d been making progress that night, that he was finally going to give in to the insane chemistry between us. I knew that he felt it, too, but the man was locked down tighter than Fort freaking Knox.

He had pulled away from me completely, the perfect professional. It shouldn’t have surprised me that he reacted this way, but it did. The second he’d let me hold his hand, I’d thought that I’d broken through those walls he’d built around himself. That whatever it was that sparked like a live wire between us whenever we were in the same room had convinced him to break his stupid rules. Just once.

Apparently, it hadn’t. Not in the slightest. If anything, it seemed to have had the opposite effect. He was more determined than ever to stick to them.

Hello, square one. It’s so not good to see you again.

Nick was standing in the corner of the dining room, his eyes firmly on the horizon beyond the wide windows. I would kill to know what was going through his head, but I’d probably be disappointed to find that he wasn’t thinking about me the same way I was thinking about him.

I sighed softly, reaching for the mashed potatoes on the plate in front of me. “Could you pass the gravy, please, Daddy?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” My father picked up the gravy boat with a smile and set it down next to me. It was kind of weird that we were eating dinner while Nick was just standing there.

“Would you like to join us, Nick?” I asked. “There’s plenty to go around.”

As always, Emilia had gone all out and cooked enough food to feed an army. Which was kind of good, since there was one around. They just didn’t eat with us.

“That’s not appropriate, Alicia,” my father admonished, shooting Nick an apologetic look. “She doesn’t know the proper protocol. I’m sorry.”

I rolled my eyes. “Proper protocol? What’s improper about inviting a human being to eat at dinner time? The food’s right here, and I’m sure Nick is hungry.”

“I’m not,” he said curtly. “Will you be needing me this evening, Mr. Graystone?”

“No, we’re staying in. Thank you, Nick. You’re dismissed.” My father didn’t even look at him as he spoke.

Nick was gone the next second, as if he’d vanished without even the puff of smoke that should go along with that kind of tricks.

“Really, Dad?” I scoffed. “That’s inappropriate?”

“It is, Alicia. Nick is hired help. You don’t sit down to dinner with the help.” His sky-blue eyes fixed me with a stern gaze.

“Seriously? The fifties called, they want their attitude back.”

My dad just chuckled and shoveled a bite of chicken into his mouth. “Say what you will, young lady. Nick agreed that it wasn’t appropriate. That’s why he declined.”

“He declined because you said it wouldn’t be appropriate for him to join us.”

Dad couldn’t possibly really think otherwise, could he?

Another bite of chicken, then a sip of wine. “He already knew that it wasn’t. Why do you think neither him nor the other guards have ever joined us for dinner?”

“Because we haven’t asked.”

“No, it’s because they know their place,” Dad insisted, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Gah! Do you even hear how pretentious you sound right now?” I stabbed at my chicken, lest I give in to the urge to stab my father in the finger to make sure he was actually a human being living in this century. I cut a bite and swallowed the juicy meat while staring daggers at my dad.

He shrugged, not in the least bit affected by my words. “It’s not pretentious. It’s simply the way the world works. You know this, Alicia.”

I held up a hand before he could continue with his lecture. “I don’t know this, actually. There’s no rule that says he can’t sit with us. That’s just your opinion. And that’s not okay.”

My father sighed, shaking his head as he took another sip of wine. “It’s an unspoken rule that’s been observed for centuries. I haven’t seen you taking up this cross for Emilia or any of the others. So why now?”

Crap. I had to backpedal. Fast. I shrugged, flicking my hair as if I were annoyed. “Because Nick just so happened to be standing right there, about to watch us eat. It seemed like it was rude not to invite him to join us. That’s all. It’s weird having someone just stand there and watch you eat.”

“It’s not weird. It’s his job. Do you think the rock stars and dignitaries and god only knows who else that he’s protected have invited him to sit at their table?”

“I hate to break it to you, Dad, but we’re just regular people,” I said, then cocked my head at him. “Unless you’ve taken up the drums or bought a country to reign over without my knowledge?”

“No, I didn’t,” my dad snapped. “Enough. I’m not bickering with you about this anymore. There’s nothing to talk about. None of the guards are eating with us. The end.”

It was the first time he’d snapped at me, ever. Dad’s posture was tight, and his eyes were hard, glaring at me.

“You’ve changed,” I said. “Do you know that, Dad?”

His brow furrowed, a deep line forming between his dark eyebrows that were only just starting to be flecked with gray. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve changed since this whole thing started. Since the night I was attacked.” I just hadn’t realized it before.

“Of course, I changed after your attack. You’re my daughter, and someone tried to kill you. Any dad who’s worth the title would change after something like that.” He raised his voice more with every word. There was an anguish in his eyes that I didn’t quite understand.

“And yet, you still won’t tell me why I was a target, or what happened to get us caught up with it in the first place,” I gritted out, cutting straight to the heart of why I was feeling so antagonistic toward him.

“I told you, Alicia. You don’t need to know. I’m handling it. It’ll be over before you know it.” My dad’s tone was the same as it had been when he’d been explaining to me why I had to eat my vegetables as a child. It was infuriating.

“Yeah? And when will I know it, Dad? It’s been weeks. I’m basically a prisoner here, and I don’t have any idea why, or when I’ll be able to go back to my life. Stop treating me like I’m five, and tell me what’s going on. Why are there people after us, and why won’t you tell me who they are and what they want from you?”

My dad raised both of his eyebrows and threw his hands out to wave around the room. “Prisoner? Does this look like a prison to you?”

“It may as well be one. Except prisoners at least know what they’re in for and how long they have to stay there. I don’t even have that luxury.” I slumped back in my chair.

“Luxury? Look around you, sweetheart. You’re in the very lap of luxury. You have a personal bodyguard making sure that you’re safe. Emilia to cook for you. What more could you possibly want?” He was making me sound like a spoiled brat, completely evading my questions.

“Oh, I don’t know, Dad. Maybe none of it? Has it occurred to you that I was perfectly happy in my apartment, surrounded by my friends, instead of someone who has to be paid to be here, and cooking my own food? Don’t make me out to be a brat when you’re the reason I’m stuck here, needing a guard in the first place.”

Dad’s face paled a little at my outright accusation.

There was a tick in his jaw and a vein threatening to pop in his forehead as he digested it. “You’re right. I am the reason why we’re here, but why do you need to be so moody about it? Here isn’t all that bad.”

“It’s not that, Dad. I’m not being moody. I’ve been cooped up here for weeks, and you won’t answer any of my questions. I have half a mind to just go home. I’ll take Nick with me if it’ll make you feel better, but I’m tired of this.” It wasn’t a half-bad idea, actually. And I was definitely taking Nick with me.

My dad’s face went completely red before he slammed his fist on the table, causing the silverware Emilia and I had set out to rattle. “You are not going anywhere, Alicia. Not until I say so. The city’s not safe right now.”

“If it’s not safe, why do you keep going back there? You’re there more than you’re here, and you seem perfectly healthy and alive.” I crossed my arms. He was being ridiculous.

“I go back there because I have to, honey. Not because I want to. I’d much rather spend the time here with you than—” His eyes widened as he caught himself, and his rant immediately cut off.

“Than what, Dad? What’re you doing in the city?” I leaned forward, hoping against all hope that he was finally going to give me something. Anything.

Big surprise. He didn’t. “I’m doing what needs to be done to get you home safely,” he said.

“And what exactly is that? Are you seriously going to make me ask you all this again?”

This wasn’t the first time we were having this argument. I couldn’t understand his complete refusal to explain the situation to me. We’d always had such an honest relationship, so having him ice me out like this hurt. And even worse, it scared me. Whatever was going on must be gravely serious.

My dad pressed his fingers to his temples and screwed his eyes shut. “We’re just going around in circles here. It’s not doing either of us any good. Just let this go, please? Drop it, and trust that I’m doing everything in my power to keep you safe and to make sure that you stay that way.”

“I do trust you, Dad,” I told him, my voice softening. “I really do. I’m just really confused as to why you won’t tell me anything. I don’t even know if it’s personal or business, and yet, my entire life has been uprooted because of this. Can you honestly not understand how frustrating it is?”

My dad sighed, his eyes suddenly tired. “I do understand, really. But me understanding your frustration about the situation doesn’t change the situation itself, I’m afraid. Did you mean it earlier when you said that you trusted me?”

I nodded, knowing that I’d lost the battle before he even said anything else. I wasn’t getting any answers tonight.

“Then trust me when I tell you that it’s better this way. Now, your food’s getting cold, and Emilia spent hours preparing this delicious meal for us. We shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

The rest of our dinner was strained. My dad kept talking about menial things and asking me pointless questions, but I wasn’t really listening. Although, when he asked me if anything interesting had happened while he was away, I told him about the incident with the fireworks.

The news that we’d thought we were under attack caused him to blanch and mumble under his breath.

The problem with not knowing what was really going on, was that my mind kept conjuring up the most disturbing reasons I could imagine. The more my dad refused to answer my questions, the more my suspicion that he was involved in something nefarious was being cemented.