The change was instantaneous. The rain stopped. The wind faded to a warm caress, the clouds clearing to reveal the aquamarine sky. Foster staggered, and Tate caught her, hugging her tightly as he whispered against her ear, “We did it! We did it!”
Someone coughed and they turned to face Charlotte, Bastien, and the waterlogged G-pa and his Bugsy.
“What now?” asked Charlotte as her gaze went from Foster to Tate, and back to Foster again.
“Well, we’d like you to come home with us—to our Fortress of Sauvietude,” Foster said, trying her best to sound friendly and reasonable and not psycho-killer-like.
“Yeah, it’s a long trip home, but a really good story. Promise,” Tate said.
“Are you asking or telling us to?” Bastien spoke up.
“Or forcing,” Charlotte added.
“Asking.” Foster shrugged, putting on a show of being unconcerned. “Unless you think you have a better shot on your own.”
“What she is trying to say is that we can’t promise the Fucktastic Four won’t find us,” Tate said. “We can’t promise you’ll be safe, but I give you my word that we think we have a better shot together than apart.”
“You can believe them,” Bowen said, resting his hand on his big dog’s head. “They’re like me. They don’t lie.”
Tate grinned at his g-pa before saying, “We’ll never lie to you. Or evade any of your questions. Ever.”
“But we’re not perfect,” Foster said. “And we don’t have all the answers. Actually, we don’t have many answers. But we’re not about threats or kidnapping or any of that garbage.”
Charlotte and Bastien shared a long look, then the girl returned her attention to Tate, Foster, and Bowen.
“Yes, I’ll come with you,” Charlotte said.
“Oui. I go with Charlotte, me.” Bastien nodded.
“Great!” Tate said, with an enthusiastic bob of his head.
Foster chewed the inside of her cheek and shifted uncomfortably. Charlotte and Bastien had agreed, which was fantastic. Well, maybe not super fantastic. Who knew what kind of weird quirks the two of them had. But they would be safe. All of them. Together.
Charlotte dug the toe of her shoe into the sand. “Umm. How are we getting to this Sauvietude place?”
“And what is it?” Bastien asked, scrubbing his hand down his tanned bicep.
“Well, that’s part of the long story.” Tate’s chipper ease reminded Foster of a museum docent, which wasn’t too far off since they probably qualified for their own exhibit by now. “How about we hit the road and explain things as we go?”
When Charlotte and Bastien hesitated, Foster added, “Or you can hang around here and wait to see if the Fucktastic Four blow back to shore.”
“No.” Wet, blond strands brushed Charlotte’s shoulders as she shook her head. “I don’t believe I’d like to do that.”
“All right then, let’s get out of here,” Tate said, taking Foster’s hand.
As they sloughed through the wet sand back to the parking lot, Linus Bowen ruffled the singed fur on the top of Bugsy’s head. “Good thing I’m a rich old man. Let’s get ourselves onto my plane and take a little trip. This family’s growing like fleas on an old dog.” Bugsy barked once, and Bowen chuckled. “Oh, not you, ol’ girl. You’re too sweet for fleas. Gotta get these kids to their fortress, though. Life just gets more and more interesting, doesn’t it, Bugsy? And I can’t wait for what’s coming next…”
The end … for now