Saoirse:Yes, an alien or a monster who fucks a human. Tentacles. Holes. Shapeshifting.
Saoirse:My favorite is when the monster has a vibrating tail.
Sean:Gross.
Declan:Sean, why do you need to leave so early tomorrow? It’s clearly not to get laid, you fucking prude.
Sean:I get laid plenty, thank you.
Paddy:Missionary on Sundays?
Sean:I hate all of you. See you tomorrow, muting your dumbasses.
Haley:I’m offended. What have I ever done to be hated by you?
Sean:You chose my brother.
Callum:That’s because I don’t do missionary on Sundays.
Declan:LOL!!!!!
Saoirse:This conversation is getting out of hand.
Callum:I have to listen to you talk about monster cocks, but you can’t take my sex joke?
Saoirse:Goodbye, weirdos. See you tomorrow.
Chapter Fourteen
Roundingthestepsintomy kitchen, I take in the silence. There’s no Scotty sitting at my breakfast table drinking his coffee. There’s no newspaper strewn about, and the lack of his presence is eerie. I don’t fucking like it.
And I certainly don’t fucking like that it’s affecting me so much. When he was here, I wanted him gone. And now that he is, I’m wishing he was back. Sleep is hard to come by anymore. I hadn’t realized how much having Scotty stay with me was helping me to feel comfortable enough to do something like sleep.
And now, two weeks later, here I am wondering if he’ll ever be back here, or if I’m going to be alone forever. It’s what I wanted, so shouldn’t I be happy? Except, I’m not. The pit in my gut is more than just an empty stomach. It’s anxiety that this will forever be my life. Alone–pushing away the people that care about me.
I make a pot of coffee, drowning in the silence. I’m already dressed and ready for work, so filling up my to-go mug, I grab my satchel and keys that hang by the side door in my kitchen and head outside.
It’s supposed to be a sunny day, so I opt to walk to work instead of driving. The long quiet walk will give me plenty of time to torture myself, and I’m here for it. There’s nothing better than the pain that comes with self-criticism.
I take the steps two at a time, reaching the bottom in no time, and make my way down the path. My eyes dart in every direction, checking my surroundings. I’ve been on high alert since the shooting, unable to keep the paranoia at bay.
The heavy footsteps of people walking around me cause the hair on my arms to prickle, and I have to convince myself that this is normal, and I’m not actually being followed. My heart can’t be convinced as easily as my brain. It beats faster when I round the corner of the street and see a man dressed in all black.
He’s holding a black, plastic bag, and on closer look it’s a doggy bag with poop in it. This guy isn’t out to get me, he’s just walking his dog. I glance down at the pooch. It’s a tiny little brown chihuahua, who immediately starts yapping at me when it catches notice of me.
The man tugs on the leash and steps to the side to make room for me to move. When I’m past him, I exhale a large breath. Maybe I should have taken the car today. My nerves are fucking frazzled. I need a drink already, and I’ve only been out of the house for three minutes.
I quicken my pace so I can get to work as fast as possible, and decide I’m going to order a rideshare when my shift is over. I can already sense the gray hairs coming in from this little trip.
I don’t miss the sound of a scuffle behind me. Some grunts and sudden movements that sound more than just someone walking their dog behind me. I stop, frozen in place, too scared to move to find out what’s going on behind me.
My stomach churns with the need to upchuck, but I skipped breakfast so it’s empty. Jesus, God. Please let whatever’s happening behind me be unrelated to that shooting. I can’t take another stressful event.
There’s heavy breathing that sounds like a large dog panting, then an evil giggle. Closing my eyes, I steel myself for death. I’ve been ready to welcome this moment for a long time. Living without Paddy, barely surviving a war, losing my father, my mom’s cancer.
“Griffin?”
I don’t have to turn to know who’s speaking. Sean’s voice is calm, steady. “Sean?” I’m still too scared to move. My feet are practically cemented to the sidewalk.
