Page 197 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

“Guess we have time for another movie then.”

She turned on Netflix and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. We ended up watching some true crime documentary that featured interviews with a bunch of psychopaths and murderers. Lindsay and Michael made a game out of trying to read their micro-expressions and determine if they were lying. Michael criticized their technique and planning, saying things like “well no wonder he got caught” and “what is it with murderers and bragging about their crimes?”

“You brag all the damn time,” Lindsay said, throwing a pillow at him.

He smiled as he caught the pillow, his eyes never leaving the screen, like he expected her move. “Yeah, but they’re drug lords and child murderers. And I only brag to you.”

Fucking weirdos,I thought.

“You have no idea,” Lindsay whispered to me.

“There are some really fucked up people out there,” I said after the conclusion of a particularly horrendous interview.

“Tell me about it.” Lindsay licked her fingers free of the ranch dressing she’d dipped her wings in and glanced over at me and my blue cheese. “How can you eat that shit? Blue cheese is mold.”

“It’scheese, it doesn’t count.”

“It fucking counts,” she said, glaring at the dressing. “I can see the energy from the live organisms. Plus it stinks.”

“Okay well... You stink,” I said, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t true, Lindsay actually smelled like the bottle of Bulleit bourbon she was currently drinking straight out of the bottle.

She ignored my jab and hit play on the next episode. “Well, at least I don’t eat blue cheese.”

Blue cheese was my weird food exception to my “no mold” rule. Augustus had loved it, and had explained the basics of cheesemaking to me, so I didn’t feel bad about eating it. We’d spent many nights eating a variety of creamy, gooey, stinky cheeses spread on crackers and baguettes, and salted preserved meats.

I tried not to think about him. I didn’t want to spiral with Lindsay and Michael here. I felt the anger and the hurt well up in me, but I focused instead on how furious Reuben was going to be tomorrow when he realized I’d taken the batteries out of that damn egg toy he liked to torture me with.

Lindsay grinned. “I like it. See, I always thought he needed someone feisty. Megan’s cool, don’t get me wrong, but she’s boring as hell. Literally lives to be bossed around. So weird.”

“How long have you known Reuben,” I asked.

“Uh... five... six years? We started working together very shortly after he started The Weston House.”

“How bad were the girls this round,” I asked softly. “He didn’t tell me much.”

“Well, I’ve never been so happy to be spat on in my life,” Lindsay said. “There are some strong fighters in that group. Some of them are going to bounce right back. About a third have families to go home to, and my team has already contacted them to arrange pickups. There are a few that are really bad off, but the program works almost every single time.”

Except when something as small as a pencil falls through the cracks.I hoped and prayed nothing like that would happen this time. The idea of seeing Reuben come home with that weight on his shoulders, when he already bore so much...

My phone buzzed on the couch beside Lindsay, jerking me from my thoughts. She looked at the screen and handed it to me with a sigh. “Better get that.”

It was Reuben. I answered the phone with, “Lindsay and Michael are here, and they wouldn’t let me warn you about it.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. I was going to see if you wanted food. I’m on my way home.”

“We ordered wings.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes... tell her to get her damn shoes off my coffee table and stop drinking my scotch.”

“She’s drinking Bulleit. Michael is drinking the scotch... and staring at my tits.”

“Of course he is. Go put a shirt on.”

“He wouldn’t let me!”

“You’re more scared of him than me?” I could hear the sarcastic mockery in his voice.

“He’s a serial killer. You’re just a sadist.”

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