Page 99 of Unraveled

“Open the door.”

A heavy sigh followed the request, but she heard the latch on the door unlock. Cara opened the door herself, stepping in to find Gian stripped down to his boxer-briefs as he scrubbed a bar of soap up and down his arms with forceful strokes. Bloodstained clothes rested at his feet, forgotten beside a waiting trash bag.

Gian picked up a cigarette from the counter, and took a drag, exhaling thick, white smoke to the ceiling. That was a new thing.

“Since when do you smoke?” Cara asked.

“Not very fucking often, that’s when.”

Gian continued his work like Cara wasn’t even in the room, dragging the bar of soap against his fingernails until he seemed pleased that it had done its job. On the counter beside his burning cigarette, a Berretta sat dismantled, as though it too were waiting to be cleaned.

He was almost mindless in his task, barely paying her any attention. Scrub, wash, dry. Scrub, wash, dry. He scrubbed parts of his body that Cara was sure had nothing on them. Occasionally, he’d glance into the mirror for a moment, or lift up his burning cigarette for another drag, but then he was right back at his task once more.

Cara had a million and one questions to ask. The part of her that hated these sights, and knew good and well what they meant, wanted to demand answers so she could confirm what she already understood.

The bigger part of her that loved Gian, didn’t say a thing. It was a choice she had to make. So she made it. Cara found it surprising, how easy it was to make that choice.

“Do you need something?” Cara asked.

“Not at the moment, sweetheart.”

“Okay.”

Cara turned to leave the bathroom, deciding it was best for them both if she left him alone to do his business. She didn’t need to be there to see it, and she didn’t think he needed her there, watching him like a bug under a microscope. Plus, the longer she stayed there, the more curious she became and was liable to start asking questions she knew better than to ask.

Neither of them needed that.

“Wait,” Gian said quickly, “there is something.”

Cara spun around to face him slowly. Gian had rinsed all the soap off his arms again, and was now patting them dry with a towel that he dropped onto the pile of bloody clothes once he finished with it.

“What is it?” Cara asked.

“Remember when I promised you that we would do that trip to Quebec again sometime?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking I could extend it a couple days, if you don’t mind taking a couple of days off school. You head out tomorrow, and come back Sunday evening.”

Cara’s gaze narrowed, as she was not a stupid woman, and she had not missed how he posed his words carefully. “Me.”

Gian stood firm, his gaze never wavering from hers. “Only you, Cara.”

“No.”

“Chris would be happy to accompany—”

“Gian, that was supposed to be a trip for us, not just me. And no, I am not taking someone else—especially not another man—on it with me!”

“Technically, it was a trip for your birthday. So oui, it was only for you. I was going to tag along.”

“You’re playing word games to distract me from what you’re not saying.”

Gian’s expression hardened as he replied, “Fine, then I’ll say what I mean. It would be best if you got out of the city for the remainder of the week and weekend. It will give me one less thing to worry about, as I do some digging into some people and business that I should have done a long time ago.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Gian.”

“Cara, now—”