Sabin, A Seven Novel (8 page)

When I check the place out, I recognize nothing. No microwave, no stove, no oven, no coffee maker, not a damn thing. There isn’t even a refrigerator. How the hell am I supposed to find something to eat in here? There are a few cabinets so I rummage through them, hoping to find something. My dreams of an Eggo with butter and syrup quickly fade away. There are a few items in here, but I don’t have any idea what they are. The packages have writing on them but in a language I can’t read, exactly like the toothbrush I found. There is some kind of strange machine standing next to the sink, so I check it out. It’s large, about the size of a refrigerator, and has a number of different looking panels with glass buttons on it. I don’t know what they say, because again, they’re in that foreign language. It looks Greek to me. Who the hell are these people? I hunt around for a glass so I can at least get a drink of water, but I can’t put my hands on one of those either.

Now I’m aggravated on top of being super hungry. I keep checking out that machine. Maybe I should just take a stab at some of those buttons and see what happens. So I give it a try, and nothing. There are several panels in groups, so I tap out a series of things on each of the panels. Again, nothing. I probably should go back out there and ask that Edge guy. But then he said I wasn’t supposed to be in there. All I want is a damn waffle. So I yell at it.

“Can you just give me a fucking waffle with butter on it and syrup? Please?”

And then I point my finger and really poke those buttons. Suddenly, the thing starts making a loud buzzing noise. Stuff starts shooting out of this hidden door, which I didn’t see because it was hidden, of course, and I don’t know how to get it to stop. It’s a full-fledged five-alarm disaster now. The room fills up with seven men as they try to get the damn thing to shut up while it still spews goop all over the place. Someone finally shuts off the power, and then all sets of eyes turn to me accompanied by accusatory scowls. I know they’re going to give me hell.

“I didn’t know how it works. I was hungry. All I wanted was a damn Eggo.”

Sabin gets in my face and asks, “Who brought you in here?”

I learned early on that pointing fingers only makes enemies. There is no way I’m getting anyone in trouble and have them hate me even more than they already do.

“No one. I stumbled upon it myself.”

His glare burns through me. “And you didn’t think to ask anyone how to operate the damn thing?” he asks in a scathing tone.

“I thought I could figure it out. I’m not stupid.” Well, most of the time, anyway.

Edge steps forward and says, “She’s lying. I brought her in here. She woke up and came into the sec center. She said she was hungry so I brought her here and left her. Clearly, I was not thinking.”

Now his burning glare is redirected on Edge. “Clearly.” He turns to the others and says, “Get back to work. I’ll handle this.”

Then to me, he says, “Henceforth, you will no doubt discover there are certain things you are unfamiliar with. Please ask before you destroy them.” I help him clean up the mess.

“I’m sorry. I’m so hungry. I just wanted an Eggo.”

“What the hell is an Eggo?”

“A waffle.”

He expands his hands and tilts his head like he has to think for a second. “Sorry, we’re fresh out of Eggos.”

“What about pancakes?”

“Nope, we’re out of those, too.”

And it’s then with a crushing realization that I know Serena is not in Kansas anymore.

In a small voice, I say, “If I ask, will you tell me?”

“Probably not. But you’re going to ask anyway.”

“Where am I?”

“Beaufort, South Carolina.”

“Please don’t lie or patronize me.”

His voice becomes very soft. “I’m not, Serena. Right now, that’s where we are, in a warehouse in Beaufort. Soon we go to North Carolina to find the necklace. I will strive to be as forthcoming as possible with you. Now, what may I fix you to eat?”

“What do you have?”

“First let me see if this is even functioning.” He fiddles around with it and announces that it’s fine.

“What’s on the menu?”

He eyes me for a second and then says, “Trust me?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m starving. I’ll eat anything.”

I watch his fingers tap the buttons. A few seconds later, a piping hot meal that smells yummy appears on a plate, along with the utensils. He sits with me while I eat and the food is tasty. I have no idea what it is, but I can’t complain.

“Mmm. This is better than an Eggo any day.”

He smiles.

“Do you eat like this every day?”

“Yes.”

“What language is on that machine? That’s why I didn’t know what to do.”

His eyes bore into mine.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He gives no indication he heard me. He only continues to stare at me.

Time to change the subject. “So is it true? Am I not allowed to go into the room with all the computers?”

“Yes. It’s true.”

“Your men—they’re not happy I’m here, are they?”

“Not one tiny bit.”

“Yeah, I could tell. They about froze me out of the room with their looks. So what happens next?”

“Like I said, we go to North Carolina to find the necklace. We have to find it, Serena. It’s a matter of life and death.”

“Are you going to tell me why?”

“Eventually.”

“I have a feeling that I’m never going to get my life back. Is this true?”

He takes a deep breath and steeples his fingers. It’s then I notice how scarred his hands are. My eyes ping back and forth from his face to his hands. He observes. “I’ve been in my share of battles.” I suppose that’s his way of explaining. “Those things that tried to kill you yesterday? They’re going to keep trying. So right now, you have to decide what’s more important. Staying alive or going back to what you knew as your life.”

He makes a good point. Going back to my life wouldn’t be worth a damn if I’m dead.

“Serena, I need to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Do you have any family? Family that you wore the necklace around or might know of it?”

Shaking my head, I say, “No, never. Why?”

“Because if you had, they would be in danger, too.”

I rub my forehead. While I have no great love or fondness for my family, I certainly don’t wish them harm.

He takes my hand and I feel a zing all the way to my toes.
What the hell was that?
My head jerks up as I look at him and wonder if he feels it, too. But he only stares at our joined hands. He’s silent for the longest time. “I’m sorry your family is the way they are. They don’t see what everyone else does.”

“And what’s that? What does everyone else see?”

His dark eyes pin me and then he’s on his feet and out of the room before I can comprehend what happened.

Now what am I supposed to do? He left and I have unanswered questions. What am I to do all day? Which rooms are off limits? What do I do with the dirty dishes? Talk about a fish out of water. But like he said, I’m better off this way than dead at the bottom of the ocean.

Where did they put my things? I need to catch up on my emails and correspondence. I find my way back to the bedroom I woke up in. There’s a wall switch, so I turn it on, and the room brightens. Door number one was a closet so I open it up and see if my things are in there, but I only find men’s clothing. So whose room is this?

“It’s mine. Well, ours now. We thought it best to put you in here. There are only a few bedrooms and this is the only one with a bathroom,” Sabin says from the door. He walks in and closes the door behind him.

“I’m sharing a room, and a bed, with you?”

“Yeah.” He grins.

Um, no. While he is more than appealing, sinfully sexy even, this won’t work.

“Why not?”

“How do you do that?” I ask, referring to his ability to dig into my mind.

“I can do a great many things. You’ll find that out as you get to know me.” The inference isn’t lost on me.

“Look, Sabin, we can’t share a room. It’s too awkward. I just met you. Sleeping with you isn’t in the cards. You know?”

He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I agree; this is not ideal. And if this were any other place or time, this would not be happening. But the fact is, Serena, it’s not. We’ve been sort of thrown together without much choice. Now I believe we can act as adults and treat this as the situation calls for.”

He makes a solid point. “Okay. You’re one hundred percent right. We can do this. But can you promise me something?”

“What?”

“Give me time in the bathroom and warning so I’m not naked or anything.”

“What if I like you naked?”

“Don’t practice assery around me.”

“Excuse me?”

“An ass. Don’t be an ass.”

He laughs. “Serena, I’m an ass on most days. You’ll have to get used to it.”

“Okay, maybe I should stay with Rafe.”

“Be my guest. But I should warn you, he shares a room with Verus and there is no
en suite
shower. You’ll be sharing a community bath with six men. How do you think that will go?”

Hell to the big no I am not doing that. I’ll put up with Sabin’s assery before I share a community manroom. Not happening. The idea even grosses me out. Ew, I bet they
never
put the toilet seat down. And who knows how often their aim is off. Nope, my ass is staying right here.

He smirks. “Thought you’d see it my way.”

“What the fuck is up with that?”

“Up with what?”

I put my hand on my hip and tap my toe. “You know what. You always know what I’m thinking.”

The left corner of his mouth curls up, which I’m finding is common for him. But again, he gives me no answer. This is not a good thing for me. By nature, I’m a very curious person. I like to uncover things I don’t understand or don’t know the answers to. Living in ambiguous or unknown circumstances does not sit well for me. My brain revolts against this.

“This is not going to work. The better part of my brain is giving me hell for this. You have to understand something about me, Sabin. I’m a research scientist. Or at least that’s what I’m hoping to become. I uncover things. My life’s goal is to seek out answers to previously unknown questions. When you leave me hanging like this, it’s like sticking bamboo under my fingernails.”

“Why would I want to stick bamboo under your fingernails?”

“You wouldn’t. Or at least I hope you wouldn’t. It was an analogy. My point is I hate to be in the dark about things. Can you not understand this?”

“Yes. But there are certain things I am unable to tell you. It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s that I cannot. I wish it were different, Serena. At this point, you’ll have to trust me. Please trust me.”

He’s so sincere, I find myself nodding, even though I don’t want to. Gone is the irreverent ass that I’ve seen and now this soft-spoken, genuine man stands before me offering me this half-assed explanation. No, it’s not the best, but it’s the best he can give me, so I’ll accept it.

“I will, for now. I imagine you could’ve killed or raped me if you had wanted. But you haven’t. While I don’t exactly feel warm and fuzzy, I don’t feel threatened either.”

His brow furrows for a moment and then it smoothes again. He nods and says, “I will tell the men to treat you better. But you are not allowed in the sec center.”

“Sec center?”

“Security center.”

“Is there anywhere else that’s off limits?”

“Not really, though I’d stay out of the other men’s quarters. I don’t think they’d appreciate you going through their things.”

My mouth drops open and then I say, “I would never do that.”

“I know how women can be,” he adds.

I ball my hand into a fist and punch his shoulder playfully. His shoulder is solid. Like concrete. I rub my hand. “Damn, what are you, Ironman?”

“Hardly. Why did you do that?”

“Because all women don’t snoop around like that,” I huff.

He raises his brows, indicating he doesn’t believe me. “The ones I know do.”

“Then you need to get to know a better class of women.”

“You’re not kidding,” he mutters.

“Bad experience?”

“You have no idea.”

“We all have our crosses to bear.”

“It wasn’t a cross, it was a fucking …” he stops and gives his head a firm shake.

“What?”

“Nothing. At least nothing I care to discuss.”

Yeah, this man definitely has battle scars, and not just the physical kind. Something tells me there’s a whole lot buried in his head and heart.

Sabin evokes empathy within me. Perfect. Not only do I want him to fuck my brains out, I completely understand his feelings. Not necessarily about a lover, but I without doubt carry scars from the way I was treated by my parents. And though I try to hide it and deny it, they’re there and they hurt. Profoundly. This conversation needs changing, needs a little lightening up. “So, tell me Sabin, where’d you grow up? I know it wasn’t the South. There isn’t a southern bone in that body of yours.”