Page 7 of Hidden

“You’re revolting,” Gabriella said. But she was smiling. A real, genuine smile that brought the colour back to her cheeks.

“After I just tipped my hat at you all gentlemanly and all… you’re a cruel woman.”

“And you’re bizarre,” she laughed. A full belly laugh that made her eyes sparkle.

And I wasn’t quite sure how that made me feel.

What I did know was that it made my stomach flip in a way it hadn’t before.

I wasn’t sure that I liked it.

“Well…” I said to cover up my awkwardness. “This has been a pleasure. Hate you both, you disgusting Riders, but it was a pleasure, nonetheless.”

“Feeling’s mutual. We mustn’t do this again sometime,” Gabriella chuckled back.

“Indeed, we must not. Good morrow and sorrows. Adios,” I called, still running for the other end of the park, Macbeth hot on my heels.

Chapter 4

Vienna

Now

Groaning, but pulling the pint glass closer to me, I took a sip and slammed it back on the bar with more force than was necessary.

All it succeeded in doing was making my head throb worse than ever. But it seemed a fitting punishment.

She flicked the light, though. And that’s all that matters.

I’d lose all the sleep in the world, so long as she was safe.

“Uncle Vienna!” a soft but excited voice called out, and the next thing I knew, Bee was rounding the corner of the bar and throwing herself at me. Her nanny, Heather, was hot on her heels, scolding her under her breath.

“There she is!” I grinned at her, lifting her onto my knee. “The light of my life. How was your morning?” I asked her, knowing I was unlikely to get a response.

Words still failed her sometimes, but that was okay. I’d accept Bee in whatever form she chose to give us.

Silence was usually her go to, and I was getting better at the sign language—despite what Rachel had to say about it.

But instead of silence, she shocked the hell out of me by saying, “You smell like beer.”

“Better to smell like beer than to smell like a horse,” I replied, not making any sense, but that didn’t matter to a seven-year-old.

“Your beard makes you look like a horse,” she whispered with a giggle.

“You’ve been spending too much time with that mother of yours,” I replied, pushing my beer out of the way and sitting Bee on the bar in front of me. “You like Rachel better than me?” I asked her, a pretend threatening tone in my voice.

“Rachel is agirl,” she replied, as though that answered everything.

“Rachel is a—”

“Is a what?” Rachel replied, coming into the garden.

“Fucking hell, we’ve turned her into Beetlejuice. Quick, Bee, run!” I said, grabbing Bee’s waist and placing her on the floor. “Run far and run wide, I will slay the beast!” Pushing her back, I nudged her towards her nanny, and she went running with a squeal.

“Have you really just encouraged her to call me Beetlejuice?” Rachel asked once Bee had left the room, raising her eyebrow at me.

“I’m sure you’ve been called worse.”