Page 66 of Echoes of War

Millie jumped up, her tan face flushing under the scrutiny. “Father! You’re back early.”

Confusion pressed my brows together, not understanding what was happening. Shock seeped from her and my initial suspicions were confirmed.

“I am,” he said sternly. “Imagine my confusion finding out a group of Monterey arrived before I did.”

“Sir,” I responded, offering him a tense nod as I rose to my feet.

Moe and Abel shot up at my side. Moe’s hand moved behind her back. Abel brushed it away, pretending to be off balance in his step.

“Millie, please show our guests suitable arrangements for the evening.” Though his face remained kind, the command behind his words was clear. “It just so happens, I’m willing to entertain whatever this Moore,” his long fingers outstretched pointing directly in my face, “is here to spew. I’d like to settle in, my time beyond the walls was … exhausting. We’ll discuss it over dinner.”

Millie nodded, throwing an uncomfortable glance in my direction before gesturing for us to follow. We made it a few steps outside before Moe opened her mouth. For as long as I knew her, she had never been one to resist the urge to taunt someone that was already knocked far off their high horse.

“A woman in power, indeed,” Moe said, smirking to herself.

Similar to Monterey, the homes did not have individual rooms to wash up, but rather conjoined bathing houses shared betweena few homes. Moe and I shared one bathing pool while Abel lingered in one on the other side. His eyes flitted between the both of us, throwing a flirtatious smile and wave. I sent my magic over, splashing him completely, and water dripped from the small tight curls that had grown out during our travels.

“Hey! Just making sure everyone’s okay,” he exclaimed.

Moe waved him off, “We’re just fine, you would know if we weren’t.”

I was glad he was here, valued the new perspective he brought. At times, I wondered if he was brought into my life to remind me of who I was. I could finally understand what Amaia meant when she said Moe was to keep her honest and I was to keep her good. Maybe that was why she’d sent me off with them both.

When we made it back to our shared room, two dresses were laid out on one bed, a pair of slacks and a polo on the other.My kind of place, I grinned, running my fingers down the beautiful long black dress. The slit at the side and the thigh high cowboy boots to pair.

Moe grumbled at her similar apparel, not impressed by what it had to offer. Hers was gray, her least favorite shade to put on, and her boots were white. I’d offer to trade, but that would mean I’d have to sacrifice the outfit that brought the essence of home.

We got dressed, following a note on the door on the way out. It directed us to stop at the house at the furthest point in town, we’d be dining at Millie and her father’s home. A private location for what we’d planned to discuss. I didn’t know if that excited me or not. On one hand, that meant no audience and, thus, no need to hold back on our end. But that also meant the same for them, they could dispose of us with little resistance. It would be as if we never arrived, despite the few people who had watched our entrance.

They lived in a humble home, resembling the ranch styled abode I’d grown up in. I fought off tears that threatened to form in my eyes. The floral couch at the center of the living room wasnearly identical to the one passed on from my grandparents to my father. The one my momma had begged him to get rid of to no avail. She was desperate to bring a small remnant of her coastal lifestyle into our home.

The second we took our seats at the long, candle lit dining table, her father cleared his throat, calling our attention to him. “I’ve welcomed you into my home. Clothed you, now I’m feeding you. Here is your chance to convince me to not make my kindness come with a price,” he said, hazel eyes trained on me.

Millie’s gaze bored into my own as I nervously peered around. There was pleading behind her stare, like there was something she wanted me to refrain from divulging. She fumbled with the silverware surrounding the empty plates, her hands trembling with her own nerves. I couldn’t figure out what, I hardly knew her to have even an inkling on what she needed. But the way she looked at me, it became obvious that she would be the key to securing this alliance.

Reaching for the diced potatoes at the center of the table, I helped myself to the food when no one else dared. I cleared my throat, “Thank you for your hospitality, a nice dinner is quite the treat after our time out on the road. I’m famished.”

Moe followed my lead, reaching for the corn in front of her. Abel sat there, staring down at his lap unmoving. He felt my stare, reluctantly he grabbed the glass of red wine, taking a timid sip.

“Please, help yourselves,” he said, gesturing to the spread of food before us. “I’m sure my daughter made it clear that is our main prerogative here.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him skeptically, “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Helping ourselves,” the man doubled-down. “That’s what we do best, that’s how we’ve survived this long, and we intend to keep it that way.”

“What do you think we do out in Monterey?” Moe reached for the roasted chicken at the same time as him, pulling it toward herself without breaking her stare.

He gave her a polite grin, motioning for her tohelp herselfas an example. “Help everyonebutyourselves, from what we’ve heard.”

“Then you’ve heard wrong,” Moe countered, biting into a leg then offering him the scraps in challenge.

Millie coughed, drawing the attention to her. “Care to elaborate?” she asked, eyes set on me.

“I’m assuming you mean General Bennett?” I concluded, scrunching my nose at the bitterness of the wine. “If you’ve heard of The Compound, then I’m sure you’ve also heard how hard her and Prescott have worked to make it a welcoming place. Type of place where people can do exactly as you say, help themselves to the life they desire.”

“At a sacrifice to their own wellbeing, I’m sure,” Millie’s dad countered without skipping a beat.

“I don’t think I caught your name yet, what should I address you as? Surely, it’s not Millie’s father,” I extended my hand with a mocking grin.

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