Page 92 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“What is this?” He walks into the living room, holding my phone.

“What is what? You’re supposed to be looking at the menu, not going through my phone again.”

“Well, I thought this was the menu, but it’s not. It’s...Is this a life insurance policy?”

What is he talking about?

“Give me it.”

He hands me the phone, and I look at the screen.

“Oh. It’s Peter’s.” I hand him back the phone. “Now, look at the menu. I’m hungry.”

“And you’re a beneficiary on Peter’s life insurance policy?”

Why the fuck does he care? I feel my stomach rumble. I really want something with barbeque sauce.

“I’m just going to come out and say it... Can you choose something other than beef? I think I want chicken. Maybe barbeque sauce and onions?”

“Sure, whatever you want, Hals.” He paces around the room staring at my phone.

“Can you call in the order?”

“So, if he dies, we’d get one hundred thousand dollars?”

“He’s not dying. He’s perfectly healthy.”

“Young people die all the time.”

I really don’t like the direction this is going.

“I’m going to stop you right there, Tristian.” I grab my phone from his hands.

“I’m just trying to understand how it works.”

“I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t like it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Knock it off, Tristian!”

“I’m serious. What are you accusing me of?”

“Hurting Peter. I know you are.”

“That’s not what I was thinking at all,” he says with a straight face.

“Oh, okay then. Sorry.” Now I feel stupid.

“You’d have to do it.”

What the fuck?

“I would never do anything like that!” I yell.

I am all shades of fucked up, but I would never kill anyone, especially not Peter.

“Why? You love him?”

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