Kex - Judy Colella (red novels TXT) 📗

actual gameplay, but to big game. Lions. Rhinocerous. Deer. Their severed, stuffed heads were mounted on all four walls of the large room, while smaller beasts had gone from jungle to taxidermist to the Moore’s display cabinets and tables. He was mildly horrified, but not really surprised.

“Rianna, darling!” exclaimed the tall, willowy woman who had risen from a wingback chair when they came in. “How delightful to see you again!” She came over and gave the girl a quick peck on the cheek, and forgot about her a moment later her in her eagerness to check out the young man looming at her side. “And you must be, er, Rex, is it?”

Keeping his face expressionless, he said, “Kex.” No need to say more, really.

“Indeed! And what kind of name is that, I wonder? Did your mother invent it?” She gave a slight, condescending laugh.

“No, I did.”

“Did you! Why ever would you do something like that?”

“Now, Jenna, don’t embarrass the boy,” said a man’s voice.

And for the first time, Kex allowed himself to look at Mr. Moore. He was a large man, athletically large, unlike Kex’s father. His hands were well-manicured but big, strong, square, and capable of serious damage…

“I’m Quentin,” he said, putting out one of those hands for Kex to shake.

He almost ignored it, but swallowed his feelings of extreme dislike for Rianna’s sake. It was with considerable satisfaction, then, that he realized his own hand was bigger and could easily crush the bones of this bully. “How do you do, sir.”

“So who are your people, dear?” The falsely aristocratic Jenna was speaking again.

“My people?”

“Yes. Your people. Who are they? What’s your family name?” Now she sounded exasperated.

“Exford.”

“Ah! British, then?”

“My father’s family is, yes.”

“I see.” She seemed to thaw a tiny bit. “And your mother’s?”

“From Norway.” Why was any of this important? he wondered.

“Well, er, Kex, I understand you live near the University. Is it a nice community?”

“It’s lovely, really.” He knew how to play her game, having encountered a number of individuals like her since his employment with the gaming company. All they were interested in was sounding like they were far more important than they actually were, and used “code words” with each other to imply false realities about themselves.

“Well, then, I look forward to meeting them some day!”

No you don’t, you stupid hag. “I’m sure you’ll find them interesting.”

“So! Drink?” Mr. Moore had gone to a side table covered with cut crystal – a decanter and several different kinds of glasses.

“Just water, please.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Nothing else? It’s not like you have to drive.”

A test. That’s what this was. Kex put his head to one side, considering. He towered over this man, and since he knew he could consume vast quantities of alcohol without any side-effects more serious than a weird tendency to tell bad jokes, he finally nodded. “Scotch and water, then.” Unlike his father, he didn’t like the taste of alcohol that much, and absolutely detested beer.

“That’s better!” The man poured out two drinks and handed one to Kex. “After you’ve had a sip or two, I’d like you to tell me your intentions toward my daughter.” He laughed a hearty and totally insincere laugh. “This is two-hundred-year-old Scotch, by the way. Hope you like it.”

Kex took a sip and found it smoother than he’d have expected, but still awful-tasting. “Very nice.” He took another sip and added, “I intend to take care of your daughter, sir. I love her very much and God help anyone who hurts her in any way.” He smiled and took a third sip, thoroughly enjoying the way Mr. Moore’s smile tried to slide off his face.

“How chivalrous!” Mrs. Moore sounded now like she was purring, grossing Kex out completely.

“No, ma’am. Just proper. She deserves no less.” More code. To his surprise, the woman didn’t seem to get what he was doing, because she began to look less and less arrogant and more and more welcoming.

Rianna’s father, on the other hand, had begun to look vaguely terrified.

Oh, yes, this was going to be a very interesting visit…

 

*******

They got through the next two days with only one incident, about which Kex and Quentin alone would ever know. The man had invited his daughter’s guest to his gun room, which seemed to the young man to be an over-the-top obvious attempt at intimidation. Claiming he wanted to show off his collection of game-hunting firearms, the man made sure no one else would be joining them there, and shut the door.

“Well, now!” he began. “Have you ever gone hunting?”

“No, sir. Never had any interest in it.”

“Every boy should give it a try at least once, you know. Even if it’s just taking down a deer.” He chuckled and went to the massive, glass-fronted gun cabinet taking up most of one wall in the vast, beautifully appointed room. He opened it with a key he’d taken from his trouser pocket, then stared at the display of rifles and other large weapons arranged there.

Kex wanted to ask him why he bothered looking at everything like that when the damn doors were clear glass, for one thing, and since he had to know already every single firearm in there. But he knew the answer – the man was trying to be impressive, but now all Kex wanted to do was laugh.

“Ah. Here we go.”

Right – like you suddenly discovered that one… “Sir?”

Quentin took out a rifle with a large scope mounted on its barrel and stepped away from the cabinet. “This baby can take down an elephant,” he said, giving the thing a loving stare. He shifted his gaze to Kex. “Take down a man even more easily, wouldn’t you say?” An angry glint had appeared in his eyes, as it were. He was showing his true feelings for some reason, his intention apparently to chase Kex off somehow.

It didn’t work. Kex took a step closer and said, “Not if the man can get it away from you first.”

“No one is that quick, Kex. No one - ” Whatever else he was going to say got swallowed by a gasp as the formidable young man in front of him suddenly moved faster than he would have expected someone that size could move.

When Kex stopped moving, he was holding the rifle. “I’m sorry – what?”

Quentin gulped. “I…well! Heh! Looks like you had the element of surprise on your side, eh?”

“Not really. You see, sir, not everyone who’s big is necessarily slow. But in this case, I think the anomalistic, psychopathetic predeliction to induce recreancy and trepidity by gasconating about your contrivances of violent dispatch is less a function of excogitation and more a matter of self-preservatory instinct.” He shrugged and returned the rifle to the cabinet. “Honestly, though, one would have to be of a saxicolous predisposition not to know that. See you at lunch?”

Short of murdering Kex in his sleep, Quentin was unable to think of any way to one-up the impressive youth his daughter had chosen to accompany her, and for the remainder of the visit, he sought and found exactly the right number of excuses to be elsewhere to make it impossible to spend any further time in Kex’s presence.

It was hardly surprising, then, that when Kex and Rianna got married the following year, the man developed a sudden conference in Grenada and simply couldn’t attend the wedding.

 

Imprint

Publication Date: 06-26-2012

All Rights Reserved

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