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Central International Airport This choice: Justin calms Kanya down with soothing and understanding words • Go Back...Chapter #6Justin calms Kanya down with soothing and under... by: Moonlight Mile   "Kanya! What the hell are you doing?"
Kanya struggled to slash the portrait again, but Justin's grip on her wrist was unyielding.
The blind rage in Kanya didn't subside. She shifted her weight, and tried to push the knife into Justin with both hands. Her eyes were slits, a furious snarl came from her throat.
"No,you don't," Justin said calmly, conversationally. He pulled her arms apart, but Kanya's right hand still kept its grip on the handle. Deftly, Justin twisted her arm, and drove his thumb into the underside of her wrist. Kanya's fingers spread in reflex, and the knife fell to the floor.
She screamed in anger and pain. Justin shoved her into an overstuffed chair. It slid backwards, but but otherwise afforded her a soft enough landing. She was breathing hard, but the ache in her wrist seemed to cancel the rage within her. She was on the verge of frustrated tears, and she hated to cry. More than anything, she hated to cry.
As Justin bent down to pick up the knife, Kanya spoke.
"What did you call me?" There was no emotion in her tone. Her voice was hoarse.
"Kanya. It's your name, isn't it? Much prettier than Abby, by the way."
"How did you know?" she asked as she rubbed har aching wrist.
"You pretty much told me so yourself, back at the airport. 'Those men work for my father.' He sent them there after me, not you, Kanya. Your father knows who you've been working for, and what you've done. But he hasn't got a clue about where you are. At least he didn't. You think those two guys recognized you?"
"Tony and Lamar? Oh, yeah. They worked for my father since before I was born. Live-in bodyguards. You fixed me real good," she finished in that same flat tone. She fixed her gaze on the portrait, her eyes sad and cold.
"You have your father's eyes. And I guess he has hers," Justin said, gesturing toward the painting. "When we moved you to the limo, I knew for sure. You have a scar on your forehead. Your dad told me how you got it. Bicycle accident."
A tiny laugh escaped Kanya, "Is that what he told you? Did he tell you what he did to the other kid on the bike? Dear ol' daddy broke his wrist." Anger crept back into her voice, "We were eleven years old, for God's sake! We wiped out. It was my fault! Daddy yanked him off the ground and threw him through the air... I thought he was going to kill him..." she trailed off, her eyes wide, lost in memory.
Justin was silent. He knew all too well the kind of man Luthor Lereaux was, he didn't need to hear any more horror stories.
"Why here?" Kanya asked. "Why did we have to come here, of all f***ing places?" The question didn't seem to be directed at Justin, but at fate itself. Then her eyes fixed on Justin's. "I had forgotten this place even existed. Which was just fine by me."
"I'm sorry, Kanya. I... we needed a safe place to hide. This was all I could think of. It's the last place he'll look. I burned your father, Kanya. Burned him bad. Now he'll think you're in it with me, that I've turned you against him-"
"Ha!" Kanya interrupted.
"Or, he might figure I'm with Raul, somehow. If that's true, Raul is dead meat. He'll never know what hit him, or why. Jesus, what a f***up."
Kanya's eyes turned cold as she spoke, and Justin saw the resemblance more than ever. "Well, every dark cloud has a silver lining. No loss, really."
Her response chilled Justin. "I need a drink," he said, changing the subject. "You?"
"No, I don't drink. But I am starving. I can't remember the last time I ate."
"Or slept, I bet. You were out like a light for a while."
"Yeah, things have been a little crazy, lately."
"Tell me about it."
At that, Kanya did laugh, and Justin joined her.
"OK, smart guy, show me how good a cook you are."
"I will," he said, smiling.
The went down to the kitchen without another word. The smile didn't leave Justin's face, she noticed. Funny thing was, her smile didn't go away, either.
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