Page 12 of Night So Silent
Sergei
I do see Barrett later, just like I said. Two more times, to be exact.
But the next time, Lutz and I look much different, dressed in black pants, black boots, and black shirts with my company, Volk’s, gold logo on the chest. Brett asks me about Christmas plans while the mini-Lutz gazes up at me from her fuzzy blanket on the floor. She is very cute, and is shockingly calm for a baby. As if I know much about children.
I’ll probably come here for Christmas, like last year, because I’m not one for celebrating holidays. Brett gets on me for not even having a Christmas tree, but why should I when I can come to their house and look at theirs without worrying about pine needles all over my floor? Pine trees are for the forest, and I have plenty of them on my property.
Besides, now, I have something even prettier to look at.
While I speak to Brett, Barrett eyes me from her spot on the sofa. She’s stunning, with her long, dark chocolate hair and ash eyes filled with a deadly combination of intensity and suspicion. Oddly enough, Barrett reminds me a lot of myself back when Lutz and I spent weeks in the tundra scanning the snow for predators. She has the same look—watching to make sure nothing comes too close. But not scared. She doesn’t exude fear. It’s something else.
It's probably the same reason that people prefer to speak to Lutz rather than me. I’ve never had one of those welcoming faces. But he never seemed to mind, because both of us together are pitch black. I’ll never tell him because it’ll just go to his head,and he’s cocky enough, but I credit him with convincing me to move down here and set up shop in the private security sector.
It was always the plan, but he let me try out my new equipment to keep an eye on Brett while he strung that asshole, Garrison, along. I’m glad Colorado was his ultimate plan, though. For all intents and purposes, Lutz is my brother, but the mountains sealed the deal. If he still lived in the Midwest, I would’ve refused. Living on land that flat freaks me out.
Too much exposure.
I didn’t plan on staying at Lutz’s as late as I did after fetching Barrett from the airport. I like being home much earlier than that, if for no other reason than I feed Edie at 7:00 every night. But I never turn down Najat’s for dinner, or anything else that Brett asks of me. And, more importantly, I wanted to find out more about Barrett after she tried to body slam me at baggage claim. Apparently, I caught her off-guard, both at the airport and in the kitchen last night, and she seems dead set on not letting that happen again.
I’ve already learned a lot about her, though. With a simple search on the way to the terminal, I found out she’s 26 years old, lives on Hibernia Hills, just west of Columbus, works for the medical center as a therapist, has a younger brother named Clay, she likes home renovation shows, Greek food, beets, reading mysteries, and has an outstanding parking ticket from a year ago that she refuses to pay because, according to the officer who took her call to the university’s department of public safety, she stated:
I’m not paying to park a mile away just so I can go to work in a building from the Soviet bloc with so much fungus growing on the walls that I could open my own pizzeria because the new university president needs to be paid $1.3 million to appoint another senior vice provost of ass-kissing and excellence.
Even I had to laugh at that. I could tell her about Soviet bloc architecture if she just asked. I spent my childhood playing Hide-and-Seek in the crumblingKhrushchyovkason the edge of town. But maybe later. We just met, after all.
Aside from her uncouth introduction, she seems like someone who prides herself on having tact. It’s why I left her standing in Lutz’s kitchen that first night because I knew I wasn’t going to get much out of her after she nearly bit my head off like a fucking Venus flytrap.
My kind of woman.
I’ve been attacked by worse things. But I wasn’t lying; I plan to do exactly what I said. And maybe she’ll try to snap my head off for real next time.
The wind is whistling off the metal roof of my building, signaling an impending storm. And it’s a big one, heading over the mountains and straight toward Gunnison. I’ll tell everyone to take their equipment home in case we need to shut down for a few days. I’m almost done making the rounds when Lutz returns from his consult for an aerospace startup, a gust of wind blowing in behind him.
“Serg!” he calls as he crosses the concrete. “I need a favor.”
“You expended your allotment two days ago.”
“I think you’ll like this one.”
I look him up and down, waiting for his mysterious proposal. Just then, another gust hits the side of the building, making the beams creak.
“I need you to make friends with Barrett.”
I blink and say nothing. But he’s unfazed by my lack of response and continues.
“Brett and Barrett have nevernotlived in the same city. And Brett has Dallas here, but it’s not the same. Barrett is her best friend and I know how much she misses her, especially now that Ev is here.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“I know Barrett well enough to know that even though she wishes she lived close by, she won’t just pick up and move all the way out here. But maybe she would eventually if she got to know more of us and she could see herself belonging here, too.”
“Again,” I ask, “what does this have to do with me?”
“Don’t think I don’t know what time you left our house the other night,” he smirks.
I hold his eyes as he tries not to smile.
“I sat on the sofa, reading.” I shoot him a sardonic grin. “Very relaxing.”
