Page 101 of Rev

“So what do you do, Rev?”

“Security.”

“What kind of security?”

I answer this one. “He’s head of security at a very large, very exclusive nightclub in Las Vegas, which is how I met him.”

“I heard from Ana that you’re working at some nightclub. Are you sure that’s an appropriate job for you, Mike?” Mom clicks her tongue. “I’ve heard those places are full of all sorts of sinful activities. I appreciate your need to find your own path, darling, but a nightclub?”

I sigh. “Mom.”

“What? I’m just worried. You’re young and impressionable, still. We worry the path you’re on will lead you astray.”

I can’t help a snort. “Mom, I’m twenty-four. I’m notyoung and impressionableby any stretch of the imagination. You’re just going to have to trust me.”

Mom turns her attention back to Rev. “Have you been in the security business long, then?”

He regards her steadily, but I can feel him tightening. “Few years.”

“What’d you do before that?”

“Mom,” I hiss. “Enough, please.”

She frowns at me. “I’m just getting to know him, dear.”

“I was in the military. Special Forces.”

Mom brightens at this. “Oh! My brother Julian served as well.” She gestures at the sliding glass door. “That’s him manning the grill.”

Someone gets her attention, then, and she mercifully scurries away.

“Sorry, honey. Mom means well, but she tends to be very…well…nosy.” I lean on his shoulder and pluck a piece of watermelon. “I should warn you, at some point while you’re here, she’s going to find an excuse to send you off with the men to do manly outdoor things, like shoot at cans and such, which really means my uncles and cousins and brothers do a male version of what you just experienced, while Mom and my sisters and aunts give me the third degree about you.”

He regards me. “That doesn’t sound fun for you.”

I shrug. “It’ll be fine.” I laugh. “I’ve actually never been on the receiving end of that. Darren grew up around here, in the same circles as my family, I just never crossed paths with him until college. So when I brought him around, they didn’t really need to do all that.”

He just grunts, nods.

I think of something, lower my voice so only he can hear me. “Will you be okay? If they take you out plinking?”

He arches an eyebrow at me. “I can handle plinking.”

“I mean with questions.” I shrug. “And…guns. With, like, noise or…or memories or…or whatever.”

His face softens. “Sweet of you to think of that, Myka. I’ll be fine. Now, if RPGs start going off, that’s a different story.”

I snicker. “I don’t know what an RPG is, and I’ve never been out plinking with the guys, but I’m fairly certain it’s just some old twenty-twos and coffee cans.”

“Rocket-propelled grenade.”

“Like a bazooka?” I ask.

He gives off that invisible but felt amusement. “Sorta.”

“People shot at you with rockets?”

He arches an eyebrow again. “It was war. So yeah. Guns, rockets, grenades, land mines, cannons. Hand-to-hand coupl’a few times. It ain’t a tickle fight, babe.”