Page 20 of Bride of Choice

He knew he had company before I’d even lifted my hand to knock.

“What want?” Berkr grumbled in his broody, straightlaced, uptight, butthole pinched inward, super fun way as his front door shot open.

No use beating around the bush, right? “What did you do with Rek and Gopher?”

Berkr’s soft grey and black mixed eyebrows shot up. He had striped patches all over him that made me think he looked more like a skunk. I’d taken to calling him Le Peugh/PU in my head. His attitude stunk. The moniker fit.

“Who say Berkr do any things?” he countered with an arch look. The male was a right pain in my ass. King nag over here. We’d had more than a few dust ups since I’d come waltzing into town.

“Listen, Pepé, I don’t wanna go rounds with you but I will if I have to. I just want to know that Rektal and my best buddy are okay, that you didn’t get sick of their shit and chop them up into teeny tiny little pieces and feed them to the carnivorous plants you’re so fond of.” There. Was that leveling with him enough?

The super-sized, fun police killer scowled down at me. “Berkr,” he grunted out, jabbing himself in the chest with the thick knife in his hand he looked to have been sharpening.

“Me Joanie, you Tarzan. Yup. Got it. My friends, Burkednerd?”

Lifting the knife, he scratched at his temple. “Bad Jo know how say Berkr name,” he grumbled out in only the stiff, curt, disinterested way his annoying ass could.

“Whatever rustles your salad, Yeti-Rambo,” I quipped, glancing around curiously for any clues as to my beasties whereabouts.

Studying me, his gaze following mine as I had myself a little look-see from his front step, he stilled, stiffening, like he was waiting for something.

“You don’t know anything,” I bluffed, shrugging my shoulders and spinning around to trot off elsewhere for info. “I’ll just go ask Veck. He knows everything.”

A small smile he couldn’t see with my back to him tipped my lips as he let out a disgruntled noise.

“Berkr know! Berkr have say!” he barked after me.

“Of course you do, you large and in charge, oversized barge!” I tossed out over my shoulder with an overly friendly wave.

“Veck no know! Rek with Kirch on hunt! Gopher go hims familedlees.”

Pausing, I slowly turned on my heel. All smiles, I clapped my hands. “Thanks, Pepé! You’re the beast’s knees!”

Realizing he’d just been played, Berkr opened his mouth to make some witty comeback but it looked like someone was struggling not to swallow their tongue. “All beast haves knees!” he finally shouted after me.

“Ain’t that the truth!” I laughingly called back, hoping I sounded as obtuse as he did.

“Berkr not Pee-pee!” His voice was garbled in a growl. I’d gotten under someone’s skin.

“Peh-pay, Pee-pee!” I just had to keep going. I was crazy like that.

“You- Bad Jo no say them things!” he blustered, flustered, after me.

“You should have a talk with them! Lay down that law!” Laughter rang clear in my voice.

“NOTS FUNNIES!” he bellowed after me.

My cackling was answer enough.

Man, this was the good stuff.

I was going to have to avoid him like the plague for a while, at least until he cooled his hot headed ass off, but, eh, totally worth it.

Rek and Gopher were okay. I could breathe a little easier.

I pushed buttons and shit to see how far a being would allow things to go with me, test their resolve to have me around, but I lived with a very real fear of someone I cared about pulling a massive Joanie and taking things too far and finding their furry rumps exiled.

I had no clue if that was even a thing around here and I knew better than to ask. Show a weakness, it’ll be used against you. The brat pack, Veck, Berkr, and to an extent Bum-bum, I’m sure they’d just love to let that fear hang over my head if it meant keeping me in line. This line of thinking brought up memories of my childhood, which gave me that queasy feeling in my stomach.

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