Under the Cover of Darkness

07 | Carson

I woke with the intense feeling that I was about to have a really crappy day and my premonition was confirmed when I heard my doorbell sing out.

I looked up from where I'd parked myself on the couch with my laptop and a plate of chocolate pancakes.

I wasn't expecting anyone other than Alex but it was just eight-fifteen — way too early for Alex to show up.

I resolved to leave the person at the door and continued perusing my emails.

The doorbell sounded out again and after I didn't answer it it became an insistent chime.

“Fine!” I hollered setting my laptop on the crystal coffee table. “I'm coming.”

I got up not bothering that the only piece of clothing I had on was pajama bottoms and a few crumbs of pancakes.

I shivered a little and yanked the door open ready to glare whoever was there right back to hell.

The demon as it turned out was five feet six inches, clad from head to toe in Prada and was none other than Cynthia Miller AKA my mother AKA the last person I wanted to see first thing in the morning.

I groaned. Well there goes my perfect day.

“Is that how you're going to greet your mother, young man?” she said and took off the huge sunglasses that covered her hazel eyes.

“Forgive my lack of enthusiasm, I'm just not happy to see you.”

She scoffed, gave me a once-over then clutched the black bag hanging delicately on her wrist.

“You look like a bag of bones, haven't you been eating?”

With that she pushed me inside and walked into my penthouse.

“Sure, come on in,” I whispered to myself.

“You really shouldn't be so stuck up, big brother,” said the tall guy in a suit that I hadn't noticed.

“Great, she brought reinforcements, do you also want to barge into my house too?”

Charles chuckled before stepping in. I closed the door slowly hoping that by the time I turned around the two people would've disappeared.

I turned around and had no such luck. Great.

“What do you want, mom?” I asked, cutting to the chase. I wanted to get the yelling out of the way so they could get out of my house sooner.

“Would you please put on a robe or something? You're not exactly decent right now.”

“You say it like I care about what you think. Just say whatever the fuck it is that you came to say and get out.”

“Carson . . .” Charles started, his blonde hair sticking out unnaturally. The creaseless suit he wore irked me further.

“You shut up,” I said to him. “This is between me and mom. No comments from loyal lap dogs needed.”

I saw my mom gulp but the steely aura around her didn't diminish one bit.

“I've been calling your phone but you won't pick up and when I call your office I keep getting your crummy assistant and she's getting very creative with the evasive answers. You should fire her.” Then my mother proceeded to sit on my couch and cross her legs like she belonged here.

I felt a muscle twitch on my temple. Only my mother was capable of making me see this shade of red.

“I'll ask it again, what do you want?”