Page 51 of Fool Me Twice

He inhaled and paused, keeping it inside his lungs like he could preserve it somehow. Heavy and cloying and overpowering, even though Hart knew it was faint in reality. Hart was deprived. He was going through withdrawal and there was nothing but triggers wherever he turned.

“You smoke?” he choked out when it got too much for him to handle. When he had to exhale but was too scared it would come out as a whimper.

“Ugh, no.” Fix grimaced, turning his head into his shoulder to sniff at his shirt.

Hart wanted to do the same. He wanted to drown in it.

“I just stopped at this dingy bar to grab something to eat on the way over,” Fix said, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. “I’ll take it off. I know you hate it.”

Hart blanched. Shook his head. It wasn’t the same. He didn’t smell like the same brand Cane smoked, and there was no underlying scent of Cane mixed with it. It was wrong, but also the closest he’d get to it until he went back.

“No!” he said, and it came out more desperate than he wanted it to. More urgent and revealing than he was comfortable with.

Fix froze, staring at him with a furrowed brow.

“Hart?” he said, and Hart hummed, refusing to look at him. “Are you really okay?”

No. No, he wasn’t.

“Yes.” He plugged the drive into the computer in front of him. “I’m really okay.”

“You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“You know I would.” He sounded fake to his own ears, but he’d had years of practice. The only person who ever saw through the ruse wasn’t here. “Don’t worry.”

“Easier said than done.” Fix snorted, rubbing his beard. “You guys are the cause of all my gray hairs.”

“And here I was thinking it was just old age,” Hart said, trying for a more honest smile this time, ignoring the ghosts of the past two days dancing on his lips.

“Now that’s just painful, Hart.” Fix put his hand over his heart and mock sniffled.

Hart leaned into him and nudged him with his shoulder. Inhaling. Filling himself up. Stealing. And then ripping himself away.

“Okay.” Hart cleared his throat. “Let’s check this information out.”

“Pull it up on the big screen.”

Hart did as told, pulling up the case files the Kinport team had sent them and casting them to the huge screen taking up the wall opposite them. There were about fifteen files in there. The dates on them ranged from half a century ago to just last year. Having no other parameters to decide where to start, Hart just clicked on the first one.

2012, June

Kinport

Case no. I74853JL

Type: Interpersonal

Case reported by phone, see transcript. Victim reported curse and JL was sent to diagnose. Positive Diagnosis.

JL: This curse was not one I usually come across. The most common interpersonal curses are between two people, but this one encompassed many. It was made to make everyone in the victim’s personal life hate her. It started with her partner, who left her, then also affected friends and family, who cut ties with her. She was self-employed so it also spread to her working circle and her business went under.

This is when she called us, because she had no one else to turn to. She made it seem like it was a long shot. She couldn’t believe she was actually right and she’d been cursed.

I successfully removed the curse, but I have recommended she follow up with therapy if she can. I’ll be marking this case for ourselves to follow up Also. She’s high risk.

Caster unknown, case forwarded to PUMA for further investigation.

Hart felt sick. He realized why they’d sent that case. Because Cane’s business was being threatened. Illegal as it was, it was crumbling around him just like the victim’s.

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