Page 44 of Three
“Sugar?” Ferdinand holds the small ceramic bowl near me with an impassive expression. I never used sugar before, could hardly taste coffee. But I can’t believe I drank gallons of this acidic medicine.
“Give him milk too,” Meg instructs the butler. I add both to my drink—is three teaspoons of sugar enough? The next time I drink, it actually tastes better.
The drink creates a warm path down my throat every time I take a sip. And the sweetness that hits my tongue is impossible to describe.
Then a large plate with five kinds of cakes is placed in front of me.
“Enjoy,” Ferdinand says before leaving.
I lick my lips, and grabbing a fork, I sink it into the white spongy slice. The different flavors burst on my tongue. Soft and crumbly, with a sweet and sour hint. It’s like heaven in my mouth and the only food I’ll eat this week. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
“That’s a strawberry shortcake,” Meg lets me know with an affectionate smile. “Try the chocolate one.”
Deep, moist, fluffy with a slightly bitter edge and a rich and creamy frosting. A long moan is ripped from my lips to which Meg responds with a low chuckle.Okay, I can eat both cakes this week.
“How is Rague doing, still Hulking out?” I ask, trying to postpone the Hunter discussion while enjoying my next slice. It’s orange. Carrotcake?
“Still early to say.”
My brother has what my family calls the Red Haze. He experiences incontrollable and self-destructive episodes while he’s lost in rage and pain. He’s a huge motherfucker—bigger than Hunter—and when he turns into the Hulk, only a tranquilizer—if we are able to get close enough to him—or his husband can stop him. The attacks are rare, but now that he has Ollie, he wants to find a way to stop them. Meg and Sari are working together on it. We moved Rague to the cottage in the broadleaf forest my family owns west of Chicago while they try new concoctions on him. Ollie went with him since they can’t stay away from each other, and in the meantime, we all keep an eye on Sully.
“Sari is focusing on the cause of the seizures that he always experiences at the end of an episode,” Meg tells me.
“Why?”
“A seizure is a symptom of a disturbance in the electricity and chemistry of brain cells, making them act differently than they normally would.”
“So, he thinks that if he cures the seizures, Rague will be fine?”
“It could be a first step. Rague is also doing daily exercises of slowing down, taking deep breaths, and refocusing his thoughts. It allows his brain's frontal lobe to take over from the irrational amygdala. He's training his brain to have more control over his responses. But again, it’s too soon to tell.”
“He’s determined and has support. He’ll do it.” I know he will. My bro is strong, and not only physically. “Aren’t you going to eat?” I glance at her empty plate. She never says no to cake.
“I ate earlier. I know you don’t want to talk about who triggered your senses. It’s fine. But do you want my advice?”
“Of course.”
“Find this person and stick to him like a fly to a cow’s ass.”
I snort, almost spitting out the bite of sweet apple pie.
“Is this your medical advice? To stick to Hunter’s ass?” I tease.
“Hunter. It fits.” Her smirk disappears as quickly as it came. “Ramiel, is it possible that the reason your numbness is gone is because you’re finally interested in someone?”
I open my mouth to disagree, but she lifts her hand to stop me and then cups my chin. Her fingers feel warm, her grip delicate. She’s giving me a serious stare.
“Being scared is fine. You are way too impulsive usually. Fear is pulling your reins this time, but don’t let it control you. Ride the wave and see where Hunter and those sensations take you.” She pats my cheek and stands up, then goes to her desk, returning to the sofa a moment later holding a purple plastic tumbler with a phrase on the front that says, “I could stop being a bitch, but I’m not a quitter.” Meg brings me one back every time she travels.
“Where did you go this time?” I know exactly where she went, but I want to see if she lies to me again, like she’s been doing lately.
“A conference. Boring stuff.” The slight puckering of her lips reveals her lie. She was in New York and didn’t go to any conference. Trackers don’t lie, unlike her, and I hid a bunch of them in her clothes and bags. As she said, I’m overprotective, but it’s not weird to be a bit paranoid when we do what we do. Being normal is such a tedious way of living, and it went out of the window the day I was kidnapped.
“Focus on yourself for once. We’ll be okay.” Her phone rings, and she answers, taking her escape.
My bros say that I tend to exaggerate, to be overprotective, to overthink when my family is involved. Maybe I should concentrate on myself for a little while.
Hunter’s deep eyes and hot body appear in front of my eyes. It makes me lick my lips. I’ve never been more excited to dive into unknown, dark waters before. I lift the coffee cup to my mouth, but before I can take a sip, a thought materializes.
