He opens the case and starts dishing out bottles but as soon as he does, my nose scrunches.
“Is this shit expired or something?” I start looking at the label as Norm sniffs the opening of his beer.
He shakes his head. “It’s not these.”
Pete leans forward, smelling himself before smellingme. “Isn’t us.”
“No shit,” Mark says as he rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t smell like any odor the four of us have ever produced. It’s?—“
“Rotten.” Norm leans toward the coffee table where the package is sitting. “I think it’s this.”
My stomach pitches the same way it did earlier and as Mark pulls out his pocket knife and starts cutting along the clear tape, my heart starts to beat a little faster.
“You didn’t order one of those meal kits did you?”
I shake my head, knowing damn well what we smell isnotrotten vegetables.
“Jesus Christ…” Mark grunts as he opens the flaps. “This is putrid.”
“Give me your knife,” I say as I hold out my hand, motioning for it while my eyes never leave the box. “Yours, too.”
Mark and Pete hand them over, all three of them leaning in as I use the blades to keep opening it.
“Lucky?” Norm asks, his voice a little panicky. “Why are you opening the package like that?”
He knows why, they all know why, but the tension is too much and Norman needs something to break the silence. So I do.
“Fingerprints.” I carefully push the crumpled newspaper off of what looks like a plastic bag, the stench growing stronger as I do, then hold my breath as I puncture it.
“Holy shit,” Peter grunts as he shoots to his feet and starts to pace. “Holy, fuck, Jesus…”
“I need to call Franc.”
That’s all I manage to choke out before I gag, all of us immediately leaving our seats to put distance between us and the box.
Because lying in a plastic grocery bag, under all that newspaper, is the dismembered remains of a black cat, complete with a note.
Only this time, this time the words are carved into the shaved side of the poor animal.
You will see me.
22
LUCKY
“Shit, Luck. This thing weighs two tons,” Mark huffs his way slowly up the staircase. “Please remind me again why Leo’s bed wasn’t good enough when the four of you have been using it for the last few weeks.”
“Wild sex acrobatics,” I deadpan. “We needed something sturdier.” I lift the end of the mattress to clear the railing as we enter what is now officiallyourbedroom.Ourmeaning the four of us like Mark said.
“Did you just say something about sex acrobatics?” Norm asks, adjusting the box spring and frame to my specifications before the mattress goes down. He glances out the window at Leo standing on the balcony smoking, a smile curving his lips as he most likely thinks about this morning.
Acrobatics might not be the word for it, but the shit we’ve been getting up to is definitely part of why we finally agreed on a new bed. We’ve known it was a necessity for a while but my OCD has struggled with not only picking one out that actually felt right but also parting with the mattress I first saw Leo naked on.
Because my OCD is a sentimental bastard.
Falling out of bed three times last week, however, was enough to get things moving and eventually expedite the process. Especially since those falls had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with trying to sleep four people deep, three of whom are over six feet tall, in a full size bed.
Eyeing Mark from across the adjustable memory foam—we aren’t young bucks anymore, and pushing forty after living fast and hard for so long means we needed a bed we weren’t stiff getting out of—I lift a brow. “Don’t act like you aren’t going to benefit from this too, Markus. Nanny goes home tomorrow and you know exactly where you’re going to end up when she starts getting on your nerves.”
