Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“Don’t you need to collect the weapons?”
“The others will do that while we make our way back. It’s a bit of a trek, remember?” He brought up her hand to kiss her knuckles. “I keep my promises, babe.”
Ambrielle smiled at him. “You do. So do I. We’re in this together.” And she meant it.
TWENTY
“Um, Master.” Ambrielle couldn’t keep her eyes off Savage, who looked as if he might actually explode any moment. She’d never seen anyone so wound up. He was on the edge of the grass, pacing back and forth. “Savage doesn’t look too happy.”
Seychelle shrugged her shoulders, turned away from Savage and headed toward the two of them as they sat at their picnic table with Ice and Soleil.
Master and Ice exchanged a knowing grin, but when he looked at Ambrie, Master was perfectly somber. “He does look upset.”
Seychelle marched up to the table and took the bottle of water Ice held out to her. “That man is impossible sometimes.”
“What’s he upset about?” Ice asked.
“Apparently a text was sent to every member of Torpedo Ink, all the Red Hat Ladies, members of law enforcement and all the members of the various churches in the area that Savage and Seychelle were singing Mama Anat’s song today in an interfaith get-together. Everyone was invited and told to bring food. They would appreciate the support for Mama Anat. He thinks he was set up. This was supposed to be a small gathering of her church alone, which is usually just a few people.” Seychelle looked over her shoulder at Savage. He was still pacing. She sighed. “He’s really paranoid about this.”
Master stood up, looking resigned. “I’ll talk to him. It isn’t fair that he’s stuck singing with so many people around. He was taking my place because I’m supposed to rest my voice for a few weeks. I don’t think it would hurt for me to sing just this once.”
“You can’t.” Ambrielle caught his arm in a firm grip. “I’m sorry, Seychelle. You’re the best of the best, but I can’t let Master take a chance of hurting himself like that. He just had surgery on his throat, and he is not wrecking it. No one can sing, or you can sing alone if he won’t do it.”
“He’ll sing. He’s just so certain that there’s a massive conspiracy against him.”
Ice grinned at Soleil. “See, baby? I told you it would be fun to come and watch him lose his mind.”
Soleil shook her head. “He really did say that, Seychelle. He expected Savage to get upset when he saw that text. Who sent out the text in the first place? We couldn’t tell.”
“Savage even asked Code, and Code couldn’t figure it out. The sender bounced around from so many towers and even went out of the country.”
“That’s crazy. Maybe it is a conspiracy,” Ambrielle said. She looked around the park. The entire picnic area was taken. Every single site. Every place on the grass that could hold a chair had been claimed, and that section was massive. There was seating in the amphitheater. Every seat was filled. The low stone wall surrounding the park had people sitting on it, and in front of the wall, people had placed folding chairs and seemed prepared to stay, with picnic baskets placed at their feet. “Do you even know these people?” she asked.
Master shook his head. “No doubt Czar will see this as an opportunity to get to be really friendly with the community.” He sounded so mournful even Seychelle laughed.
Savage walked up to them. He glared at Master. “This is totally fucked.”
“These are churchgoing people,” Seychelle reminded him.
“And it is Sunday,” Blythe added, coming up behind them. She put several baskets of food on the table to add to what Soleil and Ambrielle had brought. Czar and Kenny carried a second picnic table to put with the first one to add more room.
“Do you see what’s going on here?” Savage demanded.
“Don’t whine,” Czar ordered. “It isn’t becoming. It’s a beautiful day, and people turned out to celebrate Mama Anat. She deserves it. Just think of it as paying tribute to her. You never say the L-word, but we all know you love her, so just think about that while you’re singing and nothing else. It’s one song.”
“You’d think I’d get a little sympathy,” Savage groused. He slung his arm around Seychelle. “Just you, babe. You’re the only one who knows I’d rather pull out my fingernails one by one than do this.”
Music reached them first. A catchy tune, the notes building in strength. Then the words sung next by the popular artist Rashad Perry, the singer for the Troubled Sons.
I’m a legend of a lover
A man for undercover
A thirst trap in disguise
The women see me comin’
That silver truck of lovin’
That no one can deny