Baking With Boys |✔

48. Malpua

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*****

"You were expecting me?" I stepped out from Brandon's shadow, no more cowering, though still suspicious. The idea that all the drama we had put ourselves through, from the bus to the bodyguard, was in fact redundant-- because the man who we were trying to find, was himself waiting for us? What sort of bullshit was that.

Alard smiled. "Of course."

I made a face, not able to believe him. "You're lying. You hate us."

"I do?"

"Yes. You hate our guts, don't you? I bet you wanted to get rid of us the moment you saw us." I didn't know where the bitter words came from, but I believed it to be true. They were as good as facts. "So, tell me, were you expecting us?"

He wiped the smile off his face, his true demeanor appearing. A single eyebrow went up to make an arch on his inanimate face. "Someone else was."

The back room opened, catching our attention, and Bella stepped out. She was frowning, unwilling to move from her position as the door closed behind her. Her head was bent down, like she had taken an oath to not look up or something. Or maybe she was crying behind the veil of her hair. I couldn't tell.

"Bella?" I said, unsure if I could or not. It was better to play it safe in the enemy territory. Certainly better than ending up as a pitiful sacrifice otherwise .

I wasn't sure if she had heard me or not. But Alard didn't stop me, so I took her name again.

This time, upon my calling, she looked up, startled. Her eyes shone bright. Unshed tears threatening to fall. From her expression, it was clear that she hadn't expected us to be standing here, inside her father's makeshift den.

I expected her to come forward, greet us, or at least acknowledge us. But she did nothing. Instead, in a cool and calm voice, she spoke to her father. "Papa, did you bring them here?"

Her voice quivered. With surprise, I noticed that her cheeks were sunken in, as if she was trying to hold her emotions, her hand hovering beneath her cheek, checking for any spill over tears. She despised showing weaknesses. That much I had learned about her. Rather than gaining pity, she preferred ignorance. As much as I hated to not to do anything, I did just that and didn't acknowledge her emotional state.

When an answer from Alard didn't come, she grew impatient, her eyes boring into the back of Alard's head. "Did you bring them here?"

This time, he chose to answer.

"No, Isabela," Alard paused, turning to give her a look, and then back, the corner of his mouth twitching up, "They brought themselves here."

"Is that so?" She looked straight at me. There was surprise in her eyes, and... affection? It was gone as soon as it had flickered awake. "And what business do they have here?"

Bella's mouth, posture, body and then her eyes, both sent mixed signals. Was this an act? She should know why we were here! Her body screamed hostility, though her eyes told a different story. It had to be an act. But whatever the motive was, I wasn't playing along. I stepped forward, not letting Alard answer first. "We have a reason."

Alard raised his eyebrows. "Let's hear it then. What reason do you have, Tyler Anderson?"

At the mention of my full name, my stomach twisted. The words dancing on the tip of my tongue vanished at his demeaning command. As if my words were not worth listening to. Brandon, ever so perceptive, tried to ease me by patting my back. It worked- until another terrifying thought assailed me. Alard Rousell knew my full name. He was interested, no, annoyed enough, to find out my name. There couldn't be any reason besides.