Scorpion (The Exodus)

by Avina St. Graves

Every time I start to feel happy, I get a call from my mother.

“Zalak, you should know better than to ask what’s in a man’s bag.” I scoff, packing everything back up. “Nothing particularly useful, usually.” He chuckles. “It makes us feel important to have one.” “When was the last time you wore a backpack?” “I don’t need to feel important, when I already am it.”

No wonder Sergei has lost all his hair working for him. “Where, pray tell, are we going?” Jesus Christ. Is that a tactical knife strapped to his leg? He rubs his hands, eyes glinting in excitement. “On an adventure.” My hair is graying with each second. “You’re a security nightmare,” I mumble, following behind him down the steps. “I know,” he throws over his shoulder.

“The way you grip that knife does things to a man, Lieverd.” “I will cut you with it,” she says with a deadly smile. Romance.