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"Of course not," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Dead woman, tragic story. I know."
In any other situation, that would have drawn out a knee-jerk reaction. The wine I had consumed had to be to blame for not reacting, and I laughed instead.
"You sure know a lot, listening to you talk like that." Only she didn't know that there were two prisoners in the house's cellar, waiting for me to free them from their shackles and the feeding tubes so I could chase them through the forest and kill them.
I bit my tongue to keep from saying these thoughts out loud. That would certainly cool down the rather buzzed mood immediately and not necessarily ensure that we managed to settle the discrepancies between us.
"After all, I am capable of using Google. There's nothing I can't learn or know."
"The Internet doesn't tell you what Emilio is doing right now," I retorted, damned sure to draw her out with that one.
She shrugged. "If I had to guess, I'd say he's exploring places where the sun usually never shines."
Images flashed before my eyes that I wanted to get rid of immediately. Flavia and my brother having sex?Merda. No.
"Why did you have to say that out loud?" I reached for the wine bottle and downed the last of it without using my glass.
"Because you challenged me." With a muffled sound, she lowered her head against my shoulder, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The sun had set in the meantime. Only the last bright streaks indicated where it had just disappeared.
"I didn't want details about my brother's sex life," I hissed, a half laugh in my throat.
"Oh, come on, Enzo. Sex is not a bad subject."
"If it involves my brother, it is."
"Would you rather I tell you about my experiences?"
"Please don't."
"Then you can tell me about yours."
"No way," I growled.
"Why? You must have had a thing with more than one woman. You're too attractive for it not to be true."
I was sure she would never have said such things when sober. I stared at her head in amusement.
"If you're that passionate about it: yes."
"Before or after?"
"Before that."
"So you were a bit of a stud in your youth?"
I sounded as if I was as old as the hills. I'd probably aged at least seven years during the trip to the hut.
"That was Emilio's job, not mine."
"Did you pick up women together?"
I snorted. "I don't share."
"Not even with your brother?"
"Especially not with my brother." This conversation had gone in a direction that I had neither foreseen nor expected. What other questions would she ask?
"Boring. I once met two brothers who…"
