Page 25 of Brother's Keeper

“Ready, darling?” I asked her.

Her sunny mood restored, the zombie girl surged into the lead, navigating through the lobby. Passing the elevators, she directed us down a hallway to the left, where doors lined both sides. She trotted halfway down, then stopped in front of the room labeled 113.

With no keys or a swipe card in sight, the doorman’s meaning when he said he would buzz her in became clear. Maggie turned toward a wall-mounted security camera and waved. The computerized lock beeped, and Maggie pushed into the room.

Nash caught the door and held it while Donovan and I entered. I half-expected to find Ripley playing video games perched on the bed inside, sleep tousled and ready to cuss us out for intruding.

But it was empty. Spotlessly clean and untouched until Maggie raced forward and flopped gracelessly onto the nearest bed.

In contrast to their sparse room at Lazy Daze, this suite was more like a small apartment. It had a kitchenette, a sitting area with flat screen television, and an enviable bathroom. Still separate beds, though. VeryRicky and Lucy of them.

“How can he afford this shit?” Donovan whispered as the door fell closed behind us.

Nash came alongside us and folded his arms across his chest. “If you live as long as Ripley has and don’t manage to make some wise financial decisions, you’re doing something very wrong.”

I felt like an invader or a conspiracy theorist, searching the place for clues about what could have been a mundane occurrence. I knew next to nothing about Ripley’s private life. He could have been anywhere, up to anything, and was likely to return at any moment. For that reason, I was inclined to leave Maggie here to wait for him.

Nash must have had similar thoughts because he asked, “Do you think she’ll stay here?”

Having been assigned zombie babysitting duty more than once, I felt confident enough to shake my head.

“Where, then?” Nash asked.

I chewed my lip. “Our place? Donnie can watch her.”

“No, I can’t!” Donovan yelped.

“It’s literally the least you can do,” I told him, then called to Maggie where she lay, swinging her legs off the edge of the mattress. “Hey, Mags, pack a bag. We’re having a sleepover.”

With a squeal of delight, the zombie girl sprang into action. She dragged a suitcase from under the bed and opened it, then moved to the dresser to dig through the folded clothes.

Donovan stepped around in front of me and raisedhis hands. “Seriously, Fitch, I am not okay with this.”

Nash looked on; his brow furrowed with concern. “You don’t exactly have space for houseguests…”

“She can have the couch,” I said, thinking that would be the end of it until Nash turned his frown on me.

“And you and Donnie will be cozying up in that single bed, then?”

“Hell, no,” Donovan retorted. “That’s my bed.”

Nash’s frown deepened. “He’s your brother, Donnie.”

I shook my head. “No, he’s right. It’s not safe. Might wake up with my dick in his back.” I threw my good arm around Donovan’s neck, pulling him into a squirming embrace.

He swatted and shoved away from me. “More like your magical punching bag. You’re a hazard to share a room with, much less a bed.”

“Eh, I can sleep on the floor.” Shrugging sent a spike of pain through my bandaged arm, and I hissed a breath.

Nash stared at me, stone-faced. “I think not.”

“It’s one night,” I replied. “No big deal.”

We came to no conclusion, letting the subject drop and falling into quiet while Maggie filled her suitcase. I assumed her visit would be brief, but she packed for an extended stay, compiling multiple outfits, a bulging makeup bag, and a few stuffed animals.

By the time she zipped the wheeled piece of luggage shut, the sun was going down. Donovan, Nash, and I had given up standing while waiting and had moved to the living area. Donovan took the chair while I laid across the loveseat with my legs kicked over the armrest and myhead in Nash’s lap. Channels clicked by on the television, Nash brushed his fingers through my hair, and the painkillers finally caught up to me.

I dozed, waking only long enough to stumble to the parking lot and collapse in the backseat of the station wagon.

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