Gargoyle: Kinswoman

Part 10

"Where are my guns?" Bascun's voice rose in panic.

He'd let the gargoyle go only quarter an hour earlier after the alarm began buzzing on the wrist pressed against her back. It had been a rude wakening to face whatever the day would have and she sincerely hoped it would be him getting back home to deal with his mess and she going back to the routine of books and visiting Isilia every other day. And maybe finally changing her apartment, because having Robert's surprise visit to his mother made her suddenly very kiddish on the information he could bribe out of the neighbor.

She turned around, still holding the butter knife and frowned as he kept sweeping through the area, tossing and shaking the blanket, pillows, going as far as to raise the edge of the sofa with shocking ease to peak beneath it.

Isilia had dried her eyes and by the time they emerged from the bedroom, she had already gone back to being serene and quiet, though she could still sense the uneasy truce behind her smile. That's how it usually went. Sometimes she wished the old woman would act on her anger or at least yell at her couple of times to clear the air, but it seemed she was a river instead – you tossed something in it and she carried it away, keeping her usual flow of life.

"Do you have to make such noise?" Isilia exclaimed, when he pushed another chair from place. "Your guns are safe!"

The crash that followed the statement was deafening, but surprisingly all the flooring was still intact after Veronica shouted. After Robert left, her adrenaline had run dry as she basked in Bascun's warmth and now all that was left, were her nerves. Not a good way to begin the day, she understood that, but there was nothing she could do about it. Nor how her eyes kept trailing back on the front garden in unmistakable flashback of fear of his reappearance. She had to constantly remind herself it wasn't his pattern to return immediately and she didn't have to get to her car and backpedal her way out of the place on the moment's notice.

"Where are they?" Bascun's voice fell low. The gun he'd had earlier was tucked visibly in the edge of his pants. There was a small holster for it on the back of his belt, but he hadn't put it back there yet.

Isilia keened on her right, dug beneath herself and produced his shoulder holsters and two other, which were probably hidden somewhere on his body together with two folded knives.

"His headlights are always so bright when he parks. I thought to warn you, but you were not there, so I grabbed them." She complained while she piled the findings on his stretched out arms. Then her eyes darted up at her scowling guest and she smirked. "You really think I'd leave your guns out there so he can shoot me? Not a chance, angel boy!"

Isilia's eyesight wasn't good enough to see, but Veronica's breathing stopped on the words. Bascun's eyes went wide and his eyes snapped on her, the question clear without words. His fingers tightened around the leather and the moment he got the last of his gun, he came straight at her.

"He only beat me, he never -" She tried, but stopped, when she realized she was apologizing for his actions.

"Did he threaten to shoot you?"

"No!" She shook her head.

"You're lying!"

She looked away, the tip of her tongue making circles over her teeth. She hadn't even told Isilia about this, or that it had been her reason to buy one herself.

"Veronica!" He pulled her attention back, but she still wouldn't look at him. "Did he try to kill you?"

"Not exactly." She whimpered, not wanting to remember it.

Her eyes went on Isilia. She was listening in, disguising it badly to cleaning her glasses.

"When was it?"