Chapter 86 (1/2)

”So let's talk,” Anastasia Summers announced, taking a seat on Dan's living room couch. Her elbows rested on her knees, with her hands loosely clasped together in front of her. Her body sank slightly into the couch, forcing her to lean forward slightly. Despite her hunched posture and seated position, she seemed to loom over him.

Dan's ass planted itself in the closest chair. Abby followed behind him at a more sedate pace, rather more inoculated to the fearsome gaze of her grandmother. Rather than sitting down, she moved into the kitchen, fetching a cold bottle of water and shoving it into Dan's hands.

”It helps,” she said, patting him affectionately. Across the room, Anastasia rolled her eyes.

Dan gulped down the cool liquid, his automatic motions somehow calming him. He wiped a hand across his mouth and asked, ”Talk about what?”

”You.”

”Sorry but I'm spoken for,” Dan's mouth replied before his brain could filter it. The room's silence spoke for his error, and he stared at his water bottle, aghast. His eyes flicked to Abby. ”Did you give me vodka?”

Abby's hand slowly covered her face. ”That was all you, Danny.”

”Moving on,” the elder Summers commanded. The both of them instinctively snapped to attention. Cold eyes met Dan's. With a languid motion, she pulled a bundle of folded papers out of her pocket, and dropped it on the coffee table. She unfolded with a few flicks of her finger, then held up the first page.

”Daniel Newman,” the Summers' matron read aloud. ”Born January 14th, 1993, St. Joseph's hospital, Austin, Texas. Parent's unknown. Former guardians unknown. Former residences unknown. You have one bank account, opened slightly under a year ago, and a private delivery business without any listed clients nor any way to contact you. Purchased a short-hop upgrade from Terzo International at the same time, which mutated on the distance variable. No real digital footprint before that point in time.”

Dan coughed awkwardly.

Anastasia dropped the page and raised her eyebrow, glancing between Dan and Abby, whose hand was now threaded through his.

”I knew all of this the last time we met,” Anastasia admitted, confirming what Dan had strongly suspected. ”I didn't much care at the time. Whatever you were hiding was no business of mine, and I'm not so blind as to miss the growing,” she gestured between the two of them, ”infatuation between you and my favorite grandchild. So long as you stayed out of trouble, I had no issue leaving the two of you be.”

She slowly straightened, her shadow casting itself across the table, her presence seeming to engulf the room. Her words were slow, measured. Precise. ”That is no longer the case.”

Abby's hand tightened. She started to stand, but Anastasia halted her with a gesture. ”Settle down my dear, I'm not going to hurt the boy.” She paused, then shrugged. ”Probably. But I do need clear, concise, truthful answers from him. My tolerance of this situation has reached its limits.”

”Ahh,” Dan's voice slipped out before he could help himself.

Both women focused their stares upon him, and he only barely withheld a shiver. Even so, he couldn't help but speak. This was his home, his life, and nobody got to dictate terms to him about it.

”I'm sorry,” he said, his voice gaining confidence that he didn't quite feel, ”but how is this any of your business?”

Abby sucked in a sharp breath, but said nothing when Dan glanced to her. His girlfriend's gaze was pinned on her grandmother, whose face was completely still. Dan ran his last statement back through his head, scrutinizing it for any possible insult, before giving the mental equivalent of a shrug.

Fuck it. It was a fair question.

Anastasia seemed to sense his resolve, her stony expression dissolving into something lighter. She regarded him like one might a particularly eloquent, if unruly, toddler. He could feel her lack of acknowledgement like a physical force. He was alotted only just enough autonomy to receive an answer.

”My granddaughter is romantically involved with a man who appears to be a fugitive of some kind,” the older woman stated blandly. ”How is it not my business?”

”That's an awfully loaded way of phrasing it,” Dan pointed out. ”Just because you haven't found my personal information, doesn't mean that it doesn't exist.”

”My people are very good at what they do,” Anastasia countered with amusement.

Dan shrugged helplessly. ”That's nice. Doesn't really affect my point. And who Abby sees has nothing to do with you.”

Abby watched their back and forth with a bewildered expression, her head snapping back and forth between them. Dan wanted to make a joke about whiplash, but this was hardly the time.

Anastasia crossed her arms and leaned backwards, assuming the aura of an adult humoring a child. The makings of a smile danced across her lips. She wasn't taking him seriously. He could practically hear her thoughts. Spunky. That's the word she'd use.

”Perhaps,” the absurdly dangerous woman acknowledged. ”She is her own woman, I'll grant you. But I'd argue that, as a concerned family member, it's still my responsibility to report my suspicions to the proper authorities.”

Dan grimaced before he could stop himself. ”Suspicions?”

”That your identity is, in fact, a forgery. That you've been sent to seduce little Abigail by old enemies of mine.” The amusement was gone, now. Her voice slowly grew in volume and intensity. ”That you've been lying about yourself this entire time. That you have foul intentions towards someone whom I love very much. That you are false.”

Abby's hand practically crushed Dan's as she shot out of her seat. ”You're wrong!” she shouted, her face fierce. Her free hand jabbed towards the door. ”And if you believe my judgement is so flawed, then you can just leave grandma!”

The elder Summers only blinked at the sudden verbal assault. She seemed taken aback, waving a dismissive hand. ”Of course I don't believe that, dear. It's just what I'll tell the police.”

The frank admission took the wind out of Abby's sails. ”What?”

”It's what I'll tell the police,” Anastasia repeated. One hand tapped an easy rhythm against her thigh as she smiled at Dan. ”I've often found the simplest threats to be the most effective. Don't you agree?”

”I really wouldn't know,” Dan said, his mouth going dry. There weren't really any options left for him here.

A thought occurred to him.

”Why do you need me to talk? You've clearly been bugging Abby.” He gestured to the phone that she had lobbed across the room in the aftermath of Anastasia's phone call. What seemed like years ago had barely been half an hour.