Page 56 of Wandering in Darkness
“You’re an out-of-control beastie.”
I clutch his leg as I close my eyes and try not to see the blood splattering out after every shot I made.
Seeing the dead look in his eyes?—
I squeeze Felix’s leg while he hugs my head to him.
“We’re going to go home and watch a movie. What about a comedy? And then I’ll definitely need more brownies.”
“Don’t you still have a whole pan?” Antonio asks Felix.
“A wholepan? You heathens ate at least three-quarters of it.”
“We did oryoudid?” Lane asks.
“Definitely you guys. I barely got any. Cal, I barely got any of your delicious brownies.”
“I’ll make you more,” I say. “With caramel on them.”
“Ooh yessssss. Caramel. And chocolate chips and nuts and?—”
Antonio cuts in. “I feel like if you’re trying to make Cal feel better, you’d makehimsomething.”
“No, that’d make him feel significantly worse,” Lane warns.
“He doesn’t have to make them from scratch. You have those brownie mixes that you just add three things to. How can you fuck up eggs, oil, and water?” Antonio asks, obviously not knowing Felix’s capabilities well enough.
“Felix just has to look at the brownies and they turn to toxic matter,” Lane explains. “Last time it was so toxic, even Brigs wouldn’t eat what he made.”
“You all are evil. Cal, I’ll make you beautiful brownies.”
“It’s okay, I can make them,” I say as I keep my eyes closed, knowing I need to keep myself from drowning. I don’t want todisappoint the others by drowning myself in alcohol. “I need to stay with you tonight… is that okay?”
“We’ve adopted you, Cal. You can stay with us as much as you want. You are our child. Our beautiful baby boy.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, unsure if he knows how much that means to me. How much it means to be wanted and to have someone care.
ELEVEN
CAL
“Why does it smell so good in here?” Lane asks as he walks in, having taken a rideshare home from the detective agency. I’d left earlier in the day, just after a job came in to retrieve a family ring that an ex claimed was lost, but our client knew he was keeping it somewhere. Knowing that it was a job Felix would excel at, he rushed off with far too much glee on his face… I think it made our client rather confused.
“I made cookies, tarts, and a cheesecake,” I explain.
“Are we… going to have room to eat all of this?” Lane asks when our phones beep.
I open mine to see the text while Lane clicks his to have it read aloud.
Felix: Mine, motherfucker!
And then I see he sent a picture of the ringanda dog.
“Cal, can you… clearly explain what the picture is? My program is trying to tell me it’s a ringanda dog. But that’s notright, is it? Is the dog just like… in the background chilling or something?”
“No… there’s definitely a dog in there. It looks so happy.”
Lane: DO NOT BRING ANOTHER ANIMAL HOME.
