Thankfully, it’s on the other side of the house, so even if Mama and Papa go for round two…
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
Maybe while I’m in the shower, I can scrub away the mental images of Mama tying Papa up.
I shudder and nearly throw up.
It’s going to be hard to get those pictures out of my head.
???
I wake around eleven to an empty house. I have no idea where my parents went, but they might answer me if I start asking questions. I’m pretty sure I don’t want any of their dirty details.
Celia texted while I was asleep, inviting me to lunch, and I decide to take her up on the offer. It’s also an opportunity to see Saber Security again.
The last time I visited the company Luke built, it was right after he opened. The five-story building sits at the back of the Legacy Lakes Retirement Community. Luke built both. The retirement neighborhood is a cover for what he then called LSS - Luke Saber Security. The community also served as a secure place for our parents and other folks who needed a one-foot steel wall between them and the rest of the world. Over the years, Luke also turned some homes into high-tech safe houses, complete with panic rooms and armories.
Let me tell you, if there’s a zombie apocalypse, this is the place to be.
Earlier this year, Luke stepped back as head of LSS and turned over the reigns to Celia and Flint, renaming the company in the process.
Luke gets to be a stay-at-home husband/dad and reap the profits while Celia and Flint work together.
He’s a genius.
Don’t tell him I said so.
I pull up to the gate and pause for the facial recognition screen. It scans my face and beeps with the opening of the gate.
I haven’t even stepped out of the car when a tatted-up motherfucker stands right beside the driver’s window. He scares the ever-loving piss out of me.
“Shit fire and save matches!” I holler at him while pushing open the door. “You nearly scared two years off my life.”
This guy simply smolders at me while simultaneously staring a hole through my forehead, as if he’s trying to place me from somewhere.
I narrow my eyes at him. He’s about a head taller than me with shoulder-length midnight black hair that’s so glossy. I wonder if it’s natural or if he uses product. He wears a stern expression on his face as if he’s afraid to smile, and the best description would berugged. He’s ruggedly handsome, in a motorcycle club/dirty hot warrior kind of way - especially when I spy the extra-large Bowie knife strapped to his thigh.
What did I tell you about the zombie apocalypse? He understood the assignment.
His skin is dark, likely from Native American ancestry, but it’s the eyes that stop me cold. Ice blue. And staring daggers at me.
I raise my eyebrows. “You got a name, or should I call you Casper?”
He crosses his bulky tattooed arms across his chest. “Casper?”
“Like the ghost.”
“That’s a little off the mark, honey,” he motions to his dark skin.
“What. Ever. I’m not your honey.”
The side of his mouth quirks up. “I know,Camellia. I’m here to escort you to Mrs. Saber-Mendota’s office.”
“My sister,” I offer.
Now why in the world did I tell him that?
