Page 83 of Suck This

“Acadia?”

I turned to find my brothers sitting at the table with Chen. All of them had mugs in their hands, however, Chen’s I could tell wasn’t coffee. His had a suspicious red liquid in it that I somehow knew was blood.

“Coffee,” I groaned, walking to Nash.

I chose Nash’s coffee cup instead of Corbin’s because Nash made his coffee with sugar and milk, while Corbin drank his straight up black.

Nash allowed me to take the drink, which should’ve warned me that something more was wrong, but I was so caught up in taking that first sip of caffeine that I missed the wired tension suddenly filling the room.

“I’m so confused,” Nash said. “I thought…”

Constantine held up his hand, and I raised my brow.

“What are y’all talking about?” I asked once I came up for air.

“Here,” Constantine said, handing me Chen’s cup that he snagged straight out of his hand.

I lifted my nose in a curl of disgust.

“No, thank you,” I denied, shaking my head when he went to shove it into my hands.

I turned my shoulder and put Nash in between me and Constantine. That way if there was any more forcing of the issue, Nash would be in the middle and protect me.

Not that I thought I needed protection from Constantine, but he was trying to prove some kind of point, and I didn’t know what the hell it was. I was so clueless at this point that I didn’t know which way to run.

Constantine handed the cup back to Chen with a frustrated sigh.

“So,” I said. “Where are we exactly?”

“This is my house… just not the one you saw the other day.” He paused. “It’s known as The Cellar.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “If we’re not in that one, where are we… and why?”

Constantine gestured to a chair.

“Have a seat and I’ll explain,” he ordered.

I sat and then handed Nash’s half emptied cup back to him.

“I need some cookies if I’m going to finish the rest of that,” I told him when he gave me a look of confusion.

Normally I finished the entire thing in a matter of seconds, but today I needed more. I was only guessing on the cookies.

Possibly some pancakes.

“She’s doing much better than I did,” Chen surmised after a few long seconds.

Constantine took up the last vacant seat at my side.

“What do you remember of last night when you were attacked?” Constantine asked.

“I remember you dropping me off and rushing back into the thrum of things, leaving me worried beyond belief,” I started. “I remember wanting to change my clothes. I was hungry and wanted to grab some ice cream, then nothing.”

Constantine looked positively ill.

“Uhh, boss?”

Con looked up to find Pavlov standing in the doorway, a peculiar look on his face.

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