Page 84 of The Butcher

That was way too rational, too logical for me.

Besides, it’s not real hard to figure out what my problem is, or how to fix it.

Talking to Nan has always helped, though.

She’ll be annoyed over having to repeat herself, but she’ll do it. Nan will repeat every goddamn thing she’s said about Indy and I ever since I rolled up with her in my lap, and she’ll continue to do so until she’s satisfied the shit has finally sunk in.

“Sappy feelings bullshit,” I mumble as I get out of my truck and stomp my way to the front door.

I could do without all of this crap, that’s for sure.

The people I love know I love them, and that’s about where the buck stops when it comes to my emotions. Well, all of them except blind rage, I show that one a lot.

Wiping my boots on the mat, I lower my mask and push the door open. “Nan? Pap? You decent?”

I am definitely not looking to walk in on either of them naked again. Or both of them naked together.

Fucking gross.

Although, if I can get it up at Pap’s age, and still use it, I’d probably be doing the same thing they were the day I had to bleach my eyes.

“Nan?” I toe off my boots then hang up my coat, respecting the same rules that have been followed in this house since my mom was a little girl. “Are you…”

My words trail off and I frown as I walk through the foyer and stop at the bottom of the stairs.

It’s quiet. Way too quiet for them.

I look left into the living room, then right into the dining room, noting that the only light in the house is coming from the setting sun outside.

Their truck is here. I saw it down by the pole barn when I was walking up.

At this point in the day, Nan would have already put up the animals for the night, had dinner with Pap, then the two of them usually sit in the family room for a bit before heading to bed.

They’ve done the same fucking thing my entire life, the only difference was how long it took because Gramma Lily and Grampa George used to help. Now, it’s just the two of them, usually just Nan, and it’s become a total crapshoot depending on whether or not Pap is being a shit for her.

With a frown, I walk down the hall toward the family room, glancing in the bathroom and what used to be Pap’s office before stepping into the spacious, and totally pitch black, room.

“Nan?” There’s a soft light coming from the kitchen, most likely the one over the oven, but when I step inside, that’s all there is to see, because they aren’t here.

No dishes in the sink, no leftovers cooling on the counters. The table in the breakfast nook is spotless. It honestly doesn’t even smell like they cooked in here recently.

My gut rolls as I head back toward the front door, slowly making my way to the stairs before taking them two at a time.

I don’t like this.

I don’t like this at all.

Something feels really off, it feels wrong, and if I were armed with anything other than my own stupidity, I’d be searching this house like a fucking cop.

I check each of our old bedrooms, the four our grandparents decorated just for us, and haven’t changed since we got too old to keep staying here. They’re all quiet and dark, as are both bathrooms, but as I put my hand on the knob to Pap and Nan’s bedroom, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and all hell breaks loose.

Their door swings open with a high-pitched creak followed by a thud, a flurry of movement coming out of the doorway at full speed. Whoever it is crashes into my bum shoulder, stunning me, and sending me backward a few steps before they race toward the stairs.

With a hiss and a growl, I pull my mask up, glancing in their room to make sure it’s empty, and take off after them, shaking out my arm before I clearly see what’s happening.

Two men are running the steps in front of me, one taller than the other, both in decent shape but clearly underestimating me, and this old as fuck house.

The asshat in the lead hits the fifth step from the bottom, sending the loose plank up into the second asshat’s shins, causing him to stumble and lose his balance before he falls into his buddy and the two of them go down the last few stairs on their faces.

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