The Guardian Demon [A Taron Egerton FanFiction]

11: A Wicked Game

[A/N] WARNING!!! Mentions of drugs, slight mentions of violence.

"So, is this is your idea of a private place? I thought you were going to lock me up in a warehouse or something," Masha mocked, looking around her as both she and Taron walked into the small coffee shop that located in a secluded corner of a generally quiet street. The place was almost empty, save for a couple of waiters who were moving around the unoccupied tables, cleaning up.

"We don't do that gang shit here," Taron disdainfully replied, leading the woman by the arm toward a table by the corner.

"Okay, relax," Masha countered, raising a hand, "I was just joking," she added as she sat down, watching him as he took the opposite seat, looking around him like an eagle searching for prey.

"Good evening," a waitress came up to them with a smile, "what would you like to have?"

Taron glared at Masha, silently telling her to act normal. She, on the other hand, raised a daring eyebrow at him.

"Ice cream," Masha told the waitress, "three scoops, please, vanilla, strawberry, and lemon," she added with a smirk.

"Black coffee, thanks," Taron calmly said as the waitress turned to him to ask about his order.

"I'll be right back with your orders," said the waitress as she strutted away, leaving the due glaring icicles at each other.

While waiting for his coffee, Taron pulled his cellphone and checked the tracking application, he let out a small breath of relief as he saw that Mallory was at home, at least, he wouldn't worry about her for the time being as the house was guarded and there were people to control her unreasonable behavior if needed.

Placing the cellphone down on the table, he turned his attention to the waiter as she arrived with their orders, Masha instantly started digging excitedly into her ice cream bowl.

"So," Taron started, "where's your husband?" he asked, stealing Masha's full attention.

"How do you know?" she whispered with wide eyes, a spoon full of ice cream hung up between the bowl and her lips.

"That you and Boris are secretly married? Or that he's ashamed of showing you to the world as his wife? Anyways, does it matter?" he defied, looking straight into her eyes.

Starting to feel the tension of the situation she was in, Masha grew uncomfortable, Taron could notice the way she tapped her foot on the ground as she avoided any eye contact with him.

"He's out of town," she replied after a second, pushing the spoon into her mouth, "business."

"What do you want from Mallory?" Taron sternly interrogated, leaning forward.

"Other than her money? Nothing," she plainly answered through a mouthful of ice cream.

"Her money?" he queried, a crease of confusion appearing between his eyebrows.