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We come up to a small white house with barred windows. A chain link fence surrounds the little yard.
Gabriel goes around the back of the house. He tosses his duffle across the chain fence. It hits the ground with a thud. He then turns back to me expectantly. Without a conversation, he swoops me up in his arms as if I weigh nothing. He cradles me like a bride, lifting me up over the fence. He doesn’t let me go until my feet hit the ground.
He then places one hand on the metal rail and then easily leaps over the fence.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing his bag and leading me to the screened in back porch.
“What if someone is home?” I ask, even though the house is pitch dark and silent.
“The owner isn’t due to get home until another two hours. He’s on a red eye flight right now.”
I don’t know why I even second guess this man.
Gabriel uses two skinny pointy tools to get into the locked door. Instead of walking right in, he stops and listens to the empty house for a moment. I assume he determines the coast is clear because he enters the home. I follow behind him, shutting the door quietly.
We enter through what looks like a kitchen, and then cut through the dining room. The house smells fresh and clean with a lemony scent as if someone recently mopped.
We walk into the living room, but Gabriel stops abruptly causing me to bump into his back.
“Gabe, what’s the deal?”
A light comes on suddenly and I’m forced to close my eyes at the sudden change of brightness.
“You brought company on a menu?” An unknown voice says from in front of Gabriel.
Glancing around Gabe’s wide back, I notice an older gentleman sitting in a wooden chair. A shot gun is across his lap, and a cool demeanor is painted on his face. I squeal before burying my head in Gabriel’s back.
“Who’s your friend?” The older man asks.
Gabriel doesn’t respond. That doesn’t shock me, the man hardly ever speaks. However, he isn’t the one with a shotgun. We can’t ignore this man.
“I’m Summer,” I say, still hiding behind Gabriel.
The man chuckles. “Hello, Summer. I’m John Smith, but you can call me by my code name, Gambler.”
The name meant nothing to me, but from the way Gabe’s back stiffens more, it definitely hit home with him.
“You can relax,” Gambler says as if anything about this situation is relaxing. “I only want to talk, Beast.”
I let out a deep breath, feeling slightly better about the situation. He only wants to talk. Besides, if he wanted us dead, he could have shot us when we walked in. Stepping away from Gabriel, I go to walk around him. He quickly steps to the side placing himself right back in front of me.
“If you only want to talk then put down the gun,” Gabriel says, making a good point.
That’s why he’s the killer and I’m just the unfortunate victim.
The heavy silence circles the room once again. It feels like two large predators are sizing each other up before they strike. Finally, the silence is broken when the stranger speaks.
“I think we both know why I can’t put this gun down. Not only are you part of the Church, but you are the Beast after all.”
Beast? His brother called him that name too. I’m assuming it’s a nickname or codename like Gambler. Wait, do they work for the same organization? Damn, my brain is working slow as hell tonight.
They have another one of those silent standoffs. I take the opportunity to move around Gabe again. Before I can get too far from him, he grabs my arm pulling me back to his side. The action is quick, and no words are spoken, but I know it’s him telling me to stay close.
The older gentlemen’s gaze falls on me. A small smile turns his lips up. The lines around his blue eyes are prominent and tell of his age. He looks to be in his sixties although he’s in great shape. The black fitted T shirt he’s wearing stretches across defined muscles.
“That’s how it started for me too,” Gambler says before putting his attention back on Gabriel.
Gabe doesn’t respond even though the man pauses for him to ask the question.
