Gargoyle: Kinswoman

Part 9

She woke six hours later on the sounds coming from the living room. It was faded, like something was pushed over on the table and for a moment she believed it was nothing more than a rat until it knocked over one of the cups. Her eyes opened slightly to check the window, but it was still closer to dark than daylight.

She should cover it up before Bascun woke, she thought for a second, but then the sound repeated itself and she pushed herself up on her elbows. If she didn't know the old woman moved as little as she possibly could, she could believe it was her, but she had problems to any other trips around the house aside bathroom.

She let out a loud breath and tugged Bascun's obscenely modern watch to check the time. It was close to eight in the morning. His hands were still fisted between them with the rope and he didn't seem to wake on the sounds, so she left him like he was. The knot seemed strong, but it wasn't hard to wiggle out of should he choose to do so. It seemed pointless to wake him up if all she did was check on the old lady and come back after she'd set her back on the chair with the glass of water she was probably hunting.

She kept thinking how fun it would be if he did break out of his constraints while patting over the floor towards the bedroom door. She hadn't told him to let himself out, so technically he wasn't supposed to do it, right?

Her heart throbbed suddenly as their previous night's conversation came rushing back and she felt ashamed. If the contract he held in that world of theirs was fake, that meant this one was fake too. And that meant he didn't have to expect to be punished should he break it. She looked back at where he still lay on his side. She couldn't see much, but she could make out the shape of his body and could hear his calm breathing.

There was another clink sound and she turned back to the door. She pushed it open, blinking against the sudden rush of light and closed it behind her before she quietly called out to the woman.

"Isilia?"

She rounded the small corner between the bedroom and the living room and froze as her eyes fell on Robert holding up one of the washed cups and observing it curiously. There were three of them instead of the usual two and he must have realized it, because his frown deepened and then his eyes hopped over to her, who was still standing there, frozen in place with nothing more on than a t-shirt and pair of sweat pants.

They stared at each other for a long moment and then he turned, setting the cup down.

"Robert!" She exhaled.

"Hi, darling." He murmured with a low growl.

They hadn't spoken since the divorce and she couldn't fathom why he'd suddenly showed up here. Had he been visiting his mother after all? Why hadn't she mentioned it to her when she came then? Probably, because she hadn't known he was coming. She couldn't imagine her changing her mind that easily when they'd spent the better half of their marriage trying to get away from the man. Had the neighbor called him?

He hadn't changed much. His clothes were new, but he still preferred long raincoats and business suits that looked straight from the rack his assistant bought them from, sagging on his shoulders. Bascun was the same hight with him, he'd always been a big man, but where he carried himself as a buffoon, Bascun was all ripped muscle and filled out every inch of his own velvet jacket, despite it's pompous first impression. His hair carried more gray and it looked like belly of an owl rather than nice peppered version a darker hair color would have. And his beard was gone. Probably because one of his new conquests preferred him without it.

His eyes fell on the chair pushed near the messed up sofa. Veronica gave it a quick glance and groaned. Bascun had set there his jacket and shoulder holsters which were now peeking out from under the hem. The velvet jacket had an odd modern style, yet there was no way to mistake it as woman's with it's broad chest which was far wider than hers. There was something amiss there, but she didn't have time to dwell on that. All her feverish brain was capable of at the moment, was figuring out how fast she could get him to leave.