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Her eyes take on a faraway look. Swirling with some emotion I’m too young to understand. I sense it though, and it terrifies me down to my soul. Suddenly, she gasps and thrusts the book toward me, and I grasp it from her fingers.
Her eyes are clear, and she pins me with her gaze. “Sometimes, wolves will look like lambs. You must be smarter.”
I clutch the book to my chest, and my lip quivers as I leave Miss Lulah and walk to Mama, where she waits at the door for me. I straighten my back and smile as she grabs my hand.
“Tell Miss Lulah thank you for the book,” Mama says, and I look toward the lady I now feel a tinge of fear for.
“Thank you,” I say obediently, my voice almost a whisper.
Mama opens the door, and we step outside. My fingers bite into the edges of the book where I grip it tightly. I don’t think I’m going to read it.
Mama and I wait for a lady to pass before we step off the stoop. She’s wearing a black coat, which is strange since it’s so warm out. She must be really sweaty in it.
Then, I hear screaming.
Where is it coming from?
The book falls out of my arm, and it hits my toe. It really hurts.
More screaming.
I reach up with shaky fingers and realize my mouth is open. It’s me. I’m yelling. Miss Lulah is outside, bending down beside me. There’s red everywhere, like the color of Miss Lulah’s tablecloth.
Did she bring it outside? Why is it wet?
My legs collapse, and I’m sitting beside Mama.
Why is she lying down?
“Mama?” I say when I finally stop screaming.
“Get back, boy. You shouldn’t see this,” Miss Lulah says as she presses her hands to Mama’s stomach.
I look back at the sidewalk, but the woman is gone.
I think she was a wolf that looked like a lamb. I must be smarter. I could have prevented this.
1
CONNOR
Irub a line through the condensation of the glass I’m holding, the single cube of ice making it sweat in the muggy atmosphere of the club. It’s one in the morning, and we are at capacity. I’m too old for this shit. At twenty-eight, I don’t feel old until I’m put in one of these late-night situations. I make a mental note to suggest more air units to my father.
Swipe, swipe, swipe.
My finger does it without me thinking about it as I stare out over the throng of people dancing, drinking, and probably having sex in the restroom.
I drew the short straw tonight, getting roped into checking out the newest addition to the Soltorre businesses. It seems to be thriving, but I can’t help but feel an undercurrent of something. It feels ominous. It makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle, and I sit up straighter, eyes narrowing. I throw back the contents of the drink and set it on the table beside me, where it’s whisked away by a nondescript waitress who waits in the shadows until I need something.
I shouldn’t be sitting in the VIP section. I should be out among the people, getting a feel for things, but tonight, I’m tired. I want to sit here until two, do my duty, and return home to my bed without having to think about anything.
“Sir?” My bodyguard is at my side, ready for whatever happens. He’s loyal, trustworthy, and also my best friend.
“Geo, nothing is wrong. Just had a … feeling.” I almost hate to admit it, but usually, my feelings are spot-on. “And I told you not to call me sir unless in public.”
“We are in public, sir,” he says, and I can sense the snarky tone in his voice as he melts into the shadows behind me.
I ignore him, sitting back.
