CHAPTER 18: MORINA
1315 Words
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you leave?”
“I came to say I'm sorry for your loss.” He didn't attempt to come any closer.
He didn't even take his hands from his pockets like he wanted to give me a hug and share his sympathies. We weren't friends. We didn't know each other. My grandmother had wanted us to meet again after she passed away—she’d given me that information at least. Bastian said he would be in touch. But this was not the time or the place.
“I appreciate that. But the wake is only for family and friends.”
“I understand. The reading of her final will’s tomorrow. It seems we’re both on it. I thought I would stop by to let you know it’s scheduled for ten.” Final will? Both of us? None of these words made any sense.
“Isn't it a little soon?”
“I requested that we get business taken care of as quickly as possible so I can get out of your hair and everyone else's. I need to confirm partnerships with the ports will stay the same and that she honored her side of our arrangement.” He shrugged like his callousness was completely warranted.
“My grandmother just died,” I practically hissed as I glared at him, the crack in my voice a surprise to even me.
He jerked back at the fury and pain that laced my words.
“My condolences, Morina,” he said softly.
His hand lifted a little like he was about to pat my arm, but then it dropped just as suddenly.
“She will be missed.”
“Not by you,” I threw back.
“You’re here to circle like the shark you are. I’m not in the mood to be accommodating to that.”
“Morina, come on now.” The gentle coaxing from him wasn’t going to work.
"‘Come on’?” My hands went to those beads on my wrist that I could pull energy from.
Courage. Poise. Strength. Maybe the black held fury too.
“You need to leave,” I almost shouted.
“Don’t do that. Don’t make a scene with me.” He said it quietly, like he had the audacity to try to calm me with a smooth command.
“Or what?” My eyes widened at my own boldness.
“Or you’ll learn who owns this little town and the whole state very quickly. Don’t disrespect me, especially in public, unless you want the punishment to be served in public just the same, piccola ragazza.”
The name flew from his mouth like a menacing laser, not at all a sweet term of endearment anymore.
“Is that so, daddy?” I shot back.
Maybe I wanted a reaction. Maybe I was spiraling. Because I wasn’t stopping.
“You wouldn’t know the first thing about punishing me and getting me back in line.” I always was one to go where my emotions led me, but this was different.
This was taunting a dragon full of fire, one that everyone thought was asleep, but I’d seen the spark behind his eyes. Bastian had smacked my ass in the dark of the night like a man who owned the world even if he stood here now trying to appear docile.
Rage coiled around him. Every feature on his face hardened, ready to strike out at me.
Still, he murmured, “Not here. Not today. You get this day, Morina.”
I bit back a retort, not wanting to make more of a scene than I already had. He sighed and pulled a little glass bottle from his pocket. When he held it out to me and I didn’t move to take it, he gripped my wrist gently and set it in my hand.
“It’s a mix of rose, lavender, and chamomile oil for healing and comfort.”
“You … where did you get this?” I stuttered.
He’d only seen me use the oil on my food truck the one time, but he’d remembered like I mattered to him.
“I believe the oils are from Europe. They use sustainable operating procedures and it’s organic.” He cleared his throat and glanced around.
“I researched it to be sure.”
“For me?” I squeaked out, completely confused.
“For your grandmother passing, yes.” He straightened his tie as if he was uncomfortable.
“Anyway, I want to make sure this town is taken care of. Please don’t fight me on it, Morina. I’d like to see you at the reading.”
“This town can take care of itself. It isn’t ruled by anything but the people in it,” I said as I pocketed the oil, trying to forget our odd exchange.
“It’s a small town surrounded by a lot of big ones, piccola ragazza.” He rocked back on his heels, the name he called me in his native tongue suddenly felt like it was filled with condescension.
“Honestly, Bastian, I don’t care about this at all right now. I don’t care about the date or time or the will in general.”
“I think the will is a little more important than your grandmother made it seem.” I stepped up to him fast, my boots clomping on the cement.
“Are you calling my grandma a liar on the day of her funeral?”
“I’m calling her a caring woman who wanted to protect her only granddaughter a little while longer. There’s a lot of responsibility you’re about to take on.”
People didn't listen to their gut instinct when biology and nature tried to tell them something. My heart pulled to Bastian in a way that it didn't with most men. I couldn't figure out if it was simply attraction or something more.
All I knew was that, although my heart was gravitated to him, my gut screamed for me to run the other way. The sun shined on him like some higher power knew he held more authority than the rest of us.
This man walked in a dimension I was not familiar with. And I didn't want to be familiar with it. I wanted to move with the wind and water and leave the convoluted dimensions to men like him. “
"You and your suit, along with your security team”—I looked at Dante who was still in the car but stared at me with a look of remorse—“and your Rolls-Royce, can go to the will reading without me. Or shove the will up your ass for all I care.”
He started to say something, but my body veered off its natural course.
“I don’t want any part of the will. I don't want anything. All I want is the food truck and for you to leave.” I waved my arms about like a child, my bracelets jangling as I did.
“This is completely unnecessary. They can mail me the information for all I care, Bastian. But the only place I’m going is home. I’ll be there for days. I don’t think I need to do anything after losing the person I love most in this world. So, you can expect whatever you want, but I’m not going to that will reading.”
“Morina.” His voice came out low and menacing, not at all gentle like it had been before.
It was a warning, meant to snap sense back into the chaotic blood running through my veins. His eyes darkened, his face changed. Gone was a man willing to negotiate.
“Get your ass to that will reading tomorrow. Or I will personally be at your home to drag you to it"
- Writer
