His Twisted Queen

Chapter 3

Alaina.

.........

Uncle Dom knows what he's talking about. He was my mentor, taught me everything I know.

Starting from changing a flat tyre, shooting a gun, fight like actually throwing hard-core punches to archery. Shooting a bow and arrow has always been my favourite skill.

"For one thing, it's easy. And another, it keeps me busy. Anyway, who would ever suspect the former and deceased VP's daughter of working at a coffee shop?" I say, bitterly.

I slip him a coffee even though he doesn't ask for one.

He analyses me. "You weren't at the funeral?" He brings up, hoping I give a good reason for missing the funeral.

I'm wavered to have this conversation with him. I haven't seen him for so long. Times have changed, I...changed.

"Didn't get the invitation." I retort, giving little so he doesn't make the whole thing a reunion topic. Or is this even a reunion?

I know he will disappear again, people don't stay. They never do.

He remains quiet, probably regretting his decision to drop in to see me cause it was a dumb idea. You don't come barging into your niece's life after so many years and expect her to be cool about it.

I don't even know when I've been cool about something, lately.

"Your father's lawyer called me. Said, you refused to sit in for the reading of the will?" He raises a topic.

I inwardly scoff. Of course, how can I for one second believe that he popped in because he cared about me. He is after that big fat inheritance on my name.

I'm not trying to be an asshole--Uncle Dom is a good man, he took me in--but come on, everyone's got a price.

The lawyer called me a few days back with the information and prior expectation to be present at the will reading. I was saddled up with the responsibility to decide what's to become of dad's money, assets, houses...everything. And I refused, denied it all.

I don't want anything from his dead ass.

"Yeah," I shift my weight to the other leg. "I have thirty days and if I don't make the claim within that period, everything goes to an organization. Or, any other family member." I add, hoping he catches on.

Dad had no other family except for mom and me so that leaves uncle Dom from mom's side as an option.

He laughs. "Isn't it ironic that your stingy asshole of a father actually wanted his money to be donated to some organization?"

I fully back his thought. Gosh, my father was selfish and a miser. A dollar out of his wallet for his daughter was like a million dollars out of his bank account. I literally had to do odd jobs to get money out of him.

And then of course, I met my ATM. No matter the day, the hour, the reason, I could simply make a loan from uncle Dom and it came through. He knew I'd never pay him back but he simply didn't care.

"Probably his idea of giving back to the world, he greedily took from. You interested?" I ask, and at that exact moment Jenna slide in next to me.

I move to the side, offering room to her.

"Hi, hello." She greets.

"Hi. Where did you find this girl? She makes a pretty bad coffee, I'll tell you that." Dominique says with a straight face. And even I couldn't decipher whether he's being serious or not.

"Uh," Jenna throws me a glance before looking back at the man. "That's strange, she's my best barista." She carefully defends.

"You clearly haven't drank a coffee prepared by her. I'm not paying for this." He raises the cup. And I figure he is putting up an act, the cup is pratically empty.

Jenna offers a smile. "Sure, it's on the house." She nods at me before leaving again.

I turn to uncle Dom. " You will get me fired with your lame jokes." I scold, actually annoyed.

"Don't care, still got a free coffee." He's proud. "You asked me if I'm interested?"

"Yeah. In the money, I mean. If I don't--"

"You think, I'd ever be interested in your father's money?" He interjected. "Kid, you seem to have forgotten that I wanted to kill that son of a b***h every time I saw his face. Why would I take the dead fucker's money?"

For some reason, I felt relieved. Maybe, even hopeful. Does this mean, he actually came in...to see me.?

"Then I guess the money goes to the organisation."

"You sure that's what you want? You can do a lot with the money." He tries to convince me. But, my mind is made up.

"I'm sure."

"You still shoot?" He unexpectedly ask.

"You mean, a bow and arrow or a gun?" I ask, wondering if it's necessary for me to feel so weird about this...him being here. But, I can't help it.

He scoffs. "I mean, both."

"Sure, but it's been awhile." I quietly say.

"The family and I are going to the woods this weekend. How about you join us? The hunting is good this time of year."

I shallow hard. How can he sit there and ask me such a thing as though it's a normal thing to ask. Nothing of this is normal...not him being here...not the invitation to go hunting.

And yet for once, I don't want things to be normal.

My normal means I don't allow people in my space. My normal is building walls around myself.

My normal is staying hidden, out of place. Smart about, who I let in.

I look at him. His face is hard to read but there's something in his eyes that leave me rattled. It's like he cares about my response. Care? I'm not familiar with that sort of thing.

"I didn't know a man like yourself have himself a family." I say and was stunned that I could make such a light statement considering the gravity of the situation. Am I making a big deal out of nothing?

He smiles. "This man got himself a beautiful wife, three annoying kids and a rude niece. Ever thought of respecting me, kid?

I heard him. And all I can take in is that he added me to his family tree. Am I really still family to him?

"I did, but then you stopped sending me money and I thought, to hell with Dominique Roman." I say it as a joke, but it hits me hard.

It hurt me so much when he vanished out of my life. Or rather, I ran away from him and his world. Because I was scared that he'll eventually become fed up with me like my parents did and send me to the closest hole that wanted me.

I didn't want to build hopes. Hope that he'll take me in and make me, his own. I wanted to spare myself, the inevitable pain so I ran.

He doesn't chuckle, he doesn't smile. "You stopped asking for money, Alaina. You stopped hitching rides." He conveys, his voice low.

I tore my gaze away from him. I know I have to say something, anything but what? It's no use gossiping about past mistakes, wishing things worked out differently.

"What do you say about the trip?" He thankfully erases the awkward silence.

He slips off the stool, waiting for my response. A response, I couldn't give cause I still need need to overthink it and come to the inevitable conclusion: it's a bad idea.

"I'll think about it." I give him something to work with and not a straightforward no because I so badly want to refuse, deny.

He leans over the counter, snatch the pen out the pocket of my shirt and scribble his number down on a white napkin. "I'll wait for your call." He shoves the pen and paper over to me.

He remains in place and I proceed to nod.

Uncle Dom dramatically drums his hands on the counter before he turns around and head off. "Be good, kid."