Page 58 of Ravaged From Fate

“You can help yourself to another beer while you wait,” Elsa replies as she saunters – irresistibly naked – towards the bathroom. I really can’t peel my eyes off her body, and she clearly likes it. “And you are going to have to wait. Don’t you dare get any ideas. I want to shower alone.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I do what she suggests as I wait for her to finish her shower; I get myself a beer. I walk around her house in nothing but my shorts and a cold bottle in my hands, re-admiring the photos on her wall.

I can hear Elsa in the other room, singing her little heart out under the spray of the shower. I recognize the song’s Hold My Girl by George Ezra.

Damn, she’s so adorable. My little tireless nurse.

How did I find a girl like her in this small town?

I turn back to the photos as her muffled voice rings out through the house.

I chuckle to myself as I spot Cyrus in the photos. In one, he and Elsa are both very young, around ten years old, and he’s got an arm around her. They’re both smiling.

So… brother and sister. Of course, I should’ve guessed they were family by the loving way they’ve interacted.

A knock on the front door jolts me out of my thoughts. I turn towards the bathroom. The shower is still running. Elsa can’t hear and nor is she in the position to answer the door.

There’s another knock.

I sigh. I might as well answer. I’ll just tell them Elsa’s busy.

“Coming,” I mutter.

I open the door to a man I recognize. It takes me a second, though, to place where exactly I know him from.

And then it hits me.

The grey hair. The flannel shirt. The piercing eyes on the face that’s definitely seen some things in his time.

This man is the mysterious guy who confronted the gang members on the road out of town, and now he’s at the door.

What the hell does he want with Elsa?

26

CASPIAN

There’s complete shocked silence for a moment until the man speaks.

“You? What are you doing here?”

I don’t like his tone. He’s accusing me of being here, at Elsa’s place?

No one talks to me like that.

“Can I help you?” I ask, trying to ignore his open hostility.

“You’re the stranger on the road out of town, aren’t you?”

“Can I help you?” I repeat, trying to keep my anger at bay.

“I would hope so,” the man replies, trying to duck his head so he can see inside the house. He’s just as I remembered from the time he chased off those gang members on the road and then offered me a lift. I didn’t trust him then, and I certainly don’t trust him now as he stands at Elsa’s doorway and responds to me like this. “Where’s Elsa?”

“She’s in the shower right now,” I reply, standing tall and protective in the doorway so as to not give him a view beyond. “Why do you want to know?”

If looks could kill, then this man would be a murderer. He glares at me in derision. “I would like to know, considering I’m her father.”