Chapter 114 - 116
Avara Du Pont
I stand behind Simon, watching his laptop screen from over his shoulder. I can’t make out what program he’s running. Or how he’s sifting through the mounting data on a black digital spec.
"How long will your contact make... contact?"
"Depends, could be an hour, could be several more," he says with his fingers darting over the keyboard.
"I can’t wait that long," I say uneasily. "I have a thing tonight. Gala dinner."
"Have to play dress up for daddy dearest?"
"Something like that," I reply bitterly, expunging what I can from my tone, when I say, "But I do need another favour."
"At this point do you even need to ask?" he says with his still fixated on the laptop screen.
"I need you to pin me down."
His fingers freeze over the keyboard.
"In every way you can think of," I say, the vagueness in the suggestion only implies the worst. "Let me explain. Just like how you taught me to handle a gun. I want to learn how to handle myself. Especially in a position when I’m pinned down, and the guy is obviously stronger than me. If not twice my size."
With the back of his head facing me, I can’t see his face but the fierce haste on how he launches to his feet tells me enough. I step away to avoid the chair as he pushes past it. A haze of anger clouding his eyes as his focus fastens on my wrist. I thought for sure he was about to grab me and examine it for himself. Instead, he lifts his hand with his palm exposed, a silent, pleadful and respectful request. The thoughtful sensitivity implores my instinct to yield and I lift my hand to place my wrist on his palm. His fingers cradle the delicate weight as his other hand tugs down my sleeve to reveal my bandaged wrist.