Watchman's Harem Book 4: A MFFF harem story by Sandy Laine

Author:Sandy Laine [Laine, Sandy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: PMI
Published: 2024-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

I stood mesmerized by the kaleidoscopic sparkle that spread in a perfect circle around my shoes like so many blinking stars set in the country night sky, all the laughing and talking and music receding away from me as though through a long tube, drifting so far away, it all became like nothing more than the hum of overhead electric wires. I laughed, even, when I realized those weren’t stars, they were the shattered remains of my cut crystal champagne flute, and that wasn’t the night sky, it was the glossy floor of my new art gallery.

I raised my face from my hand still incongruously holding the phantom flute to the front door that reverberated back from its stop to slam shut, it had been thrusted open so violently, and I only dimly made out a figure filling the space in front of it, at once familiar, but not formed yet, like a word or a name you know that you know, but can’t find in your mind. But the looming black cloud of smoke began to take on on firmer edges and its transparency thickened, until my eyes, blinking, focused on the shoes, the clothes, and finally the face. And I chuckled.

“Dad!” I said, and I laughed. I creased my brow and squinted one eye at him. “What are you doing here?” I said. I looked around the crowded room thinking there was some elaborate joke being played on me. But all I saw around me was everyone’s eyes, all who attended our grand opening, staring back at me. Unsure if I was hallucinating, I stepped over the circle of glass shards, crunching bits underfoot, and went around the back wall of the gallery and into the work room where the framing and crating was done. I had in my favor at least the pretense of needing a broom and pan.

We had a small one-way window set in the wall so that anyone in the back could keep an eye on the front “for security reasons.” From there I watched dad, still hunched and looming in my doorway, gesture with his chin, and Don dutifully scurry over to him, and I saw Joe, too, come in the door behind dad.

The crowd in the gallery began to murmur again, everyone unsure about whether to ignore the dark presence, or run for their lives. Dad slapped Don on the side of the head with his open palm and Don cowered before him. Don could have crushed dad’s throat in the grip of one hand if he chose to. Joe, too, if he wanted to, but he did nothing more than watch as dad slapped Don harder again with the thick ring-weighted back of his hand on his backswing, harder across the other side of his head. Don’s eyes didn’t come up from the floor. He simply took it.

Christina, Tara, and Ariel all came around the wall into the back room to find me.

“I can see why you’re hiding back here,” Ariel said.

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