Page 55 of Cuckoo
I liked that idea. “Everyone?”
“Why the fuck not? Bet you can’t guess what I’m going to choose.”
He wasn’t that funny. “A Reaper.”
His hand slapped over his heart in mock surprise. “You gonna morph into a crow?”
“No,” I growled. “I don’t know yet.”
He shook his head. “You’re too tense, brother. Come with me.”
I knew this would be a bad idea, but I followed him anyway.
Half an hour later, we entered the bar, and both of us dressed differently than when we left. The funny?
I was the Reaper, and he was the crow.
No shit. We swapped. Mind you, it was just a joke, but still. We had the attention of the room as the speaker began to blare our song of choice. When “Monster Mash” began to play through the speakers in the bar, everyone looked surprised.
Rael and I began to dance like goofy fuckers, popping around and bumping into one another. My black and white skull-themed makeup, black robe over my jeans and bare chest, and the scythe in my hand made the costume perfect.
Rael grinned. “I fucking love it when they can’t figure me out.”
“Usout,” I corrected.
“Yeah, I guess it’s both.”
We shrugged and went back to dancing, lurching around the bar as people began to join us.
His crow costume and beak were fucking perfection. He sort of reminded me of Hawkeye but with more feathers, a beak, and a mohawk. A purple one. I never told him to use the hair dye. Rael always did his own thing. Just like me.
Maybe that was why we remained friends.
A sharp whistle pierced the air, and I spotted Crow digging through my chest of costumes that I’d brought in. “Pick your poison, fuckers. We’re all getting freaky tonight!”
My brothers and their women rushed to the chest of costumes, and I sent one of the prospects for another one. By the time we’d gone through about five Halloween-themed songs, everyone was bopping to the music, had a drink in hand, and was dressed outlandishly. Most of them didn’t even match.
I guess they liked my costume choices after all.
Katrina stopped in front of me, wearing a tight white t-shirt and cut-off denim shorts. She looked delicious.
“You’re missing your costume.”
She shook her head. “Nope.” She held up a black permanent marker. “You’re finishing it for me.”
Oh? “What do you want?”
“For you to write PROPERTY OF CUCKOO. You already claimed me. We might as well make that public.”
Fuck. I loved her.
With a grin, I took the marker and carefully penned her request. When I finished, I tossed it away, tugging her against me. Later, I’d show her exactly how much that meant to me.
Right now? I just wanted to feel her close and enjoy this moment. Because soon, I planned to be watching her belly swell with my baby.
“You’re thinking naughty thoughts,” she observed.
“Oh, I am.”
