Fiction at Courage, my friend

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Winter Rain, part 36

The gates are open as we pull up to Aiden’s mansion on The Hill.  Brennan stops to let me out, then moves the car into a parking space to wait.  I nod to the security guard as he steps out of the booth and approaches.

“Tiergan!” he exclaims and smiles.  “Here to see Miss Keaira?”

A flicker of a sad smile crosses my face before I can do anything to stop it.  It does seem strange, though—I would have expected the news to be out, already.  I wonder why it isn’t.

I shake my head—as much to clear it as to signal my answer—and say, “No.  I have business with Aiden, today.  He’s expecting me.”

He runs his finger down his clipboard, then nods.  “Oh, yes, here it is.  You know the way?”

I nod.

“Go on up, then.  I’ll let them know you are coming.”

The house is just visible from here, halfway up the Hill, all horizontal lines of stone and wood, nestled on amongst casual gardens and mature trees.  So many people with their kind of money would have built something to impress, to intimidate visitors.  Theirs just ignores them, as if they don’t exist.  It’s a private house, built for family.  The only people who matter.

And I’m not family.

“Is she here today?” I ask, without looking back to him.  I grind my heel into something I can’t be feeling.

“Miss Keaira?  Yes, sir,” he replies. 

Yeah, well, that was to be expected.  Better just deal with it.

I glance over to him—“Thanks, Mick.”—and head up the drive.