Page 30 of Body Tox

“Why do you have this?” I rounded on the guy, coming chest to stomach with him.

I was stark-ass naked, but I didn’t give a shit. I went on my tip toes and shoved my moose in the brute’s face.

“Where did you get this?”

He backed away from me. Acting like a naked woman was terrifying. I rolled my eyes.

“Can we skip pretending you weren’t licking my insides and enjoying it an hour ago and answer the fucking question?”

He scratched at his cropped hair, his short bangs flopping on his forehead.

“I-I…”

While listening to the moron stutter, I saw droplets of red on the Hoofy, and my eyes widened.

Blood.

“And who’s blood is this?” I shrieked an octave higher, pointing to the sprinkling of blood.

Poor Hoofy. He wouldn’t survive a dry cleaning. Red would just have to be his new do. Maybe I’d dye my hair to match. I would use this thief’s blood.

“I took it from your house,” he stated finally.

I scoffed. “Duh. But why?”

“Because they were cleaning your room, and I thought…I don’t…I thought it meant something to you.”

I watched him pace back-and-forth and back-and-forth, fussing with his head of light brown hair.

“What does it matter to you?” I was genuinely curious.

He wouldn’t look at me as he spoke.

“I lost things I cared about before, and I figured if I could save something for someone else…Fuck I don’t know why I did it. Never mind.”

I pressed Hoofy to my heart. My affection for the beat-up shit ball was obvious on my face.

“Thanks,” I said at last.

My ass hurt, and I was in serious need of a shower. A bag was over by the sink, and I walked over to inspect it. There was writing in black marker scribbled on a biohazard bag sloshing with liquid and some small weight. I opened the bag, the smell of some chemical singed my nose. It was Cali’s fucking tongue.

I sighed, closing the bag and trying not to gag at the smell.

“Keepsake.” The man shrugged and continued mopping.

I chewed my lip, inspecting my gnarly mark from the scalpel and whatever the hell this nut job used to burn the wound closed.

It burned yet itched now.

“So, what was the blood from?” I mumbled, unable to handle the silence and stupid mopping sounds.

His voice was muffled from the dumbass shirt gag, but I could have sworn I heard “Your dad.”

I snorted. “Guess you aren’t getting those raving reviews, huh, Pretty Boy?”

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Guess not, my Little Wraith. Guess not.”

My phone dinged from somewhere on the ground, and after a minute of playing hide and seek with the vibration on the ground, I finally found it. Looking at the screen in front of me, I nearly gasped.

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