“What gives, fellas?” Ant asks, staring up at them in challenge.
They look at each other, then point for us to sit, spiking my anxiety. “Spit it out, fellas,” I demand.
Anders’ expression turns…hm. Hopeful? Maybe? Turning to Ant, he says, “So, a little birdie told us you weren’t going to use the list anymore.”
Ant sinks into his favorite oversized chair as worry crosses his face. “I can’t, guys. I know you’re disappointed in me, and you would totally be within your right to kick me off Murderer’s Row, but—”
“Wait, what?” Hopper asks, shaking his head. “You’re always gonna be our little murder buddy, no matter if you kill another person or not.”
“You promise?” he asks, relief flooding his features.
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Anders says, miming the action.
“Then why do you both look so guilty?”
They exchange looks, and Hopper starts, “Well, if you aren’t going to use the list…would you mind terribly if we took over? You can say no.”
“You want to take over my murder list?”
My cousin nods, a little too enthusiastically if you ask me. “A lot of work went into that list. We know where they are and, you know, we sometimes have gaps in our schedules. I mean, we don’t ever want to leave you out, so you can come whenever you want. It’s just…they kinda deserve to die, and we can’t stand knowing they’re out there, you know?”
Ant goes quiet for a solid three seconds, then doubles over, his shoulders shaking. Anders and Hopper look at each other in horror until Ant inhales sharply, finally letting out peals of laughter. Bunny and Moose come racing in through the doggy door right as Ant falls to the ground, unable to contain his laughter.
They bark and snuffle Ant’s hair, pacing between me and Ant as if to tell me I need to check on him. Still laughing, he pulls himself up to standing and commands both dogs to sit. When he catches his breath, he pulls the two serial killers into a big group hug.
Moose lets out a lowwoofand Bunny goes up to Hopper, recognizing his old friend.
“Of course you can take my kill list,” Ant answers, finally composing himself. “I’m so grateful you’re willing to keep going.”
Anders and Hopper do a little happy dance with the dogs, and Ant sends me an amused look that makes me love him just a little bit more than the day before.
Smokey saunters into the room, sees the insanity, and saunters right back out, swishing her tail. Not even Hopper is immune to feline judgment.
Unfazed, Hopper, looking more sincere than I’ve ever seen him, puts his hands on Ant’s shoulders. “If you need us to make it hurt a little extra for any of those assholes, just put a little asterisk next to their name, and we’ll take care of it.”
Ant pulls him into another hard hug. “Thanks, my friend.”
With that, Anders and Hopper head straight for the door.
“Fellas,” I call out, “you don’t have to rush out. Wanna join us for breakfast?”
They look at each other and then back at us, shaking their heads.
Anders grins. “One of the guys on the list is in Houston, and Hopper’s never been to the museum district. Figure we can take care of what needs taking care of, then check out the butterfly exhibit.”
Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much time around insane people, but that actually sounds like a good time.
I send them a short wave. “Have fun killing the assholes.”
Hopper snorts. “You’re so funny, Erik.”
They take off, and I lead Ant back to the big chair, pulling him onto my lap as the dogs take their places on either side of us. He curls up against me, still laughing.
“Who would’ve thought we’d end up like this?”
“Not me,” I admit freely, “and I’ve never been gladder to be wrong about something in my entire life.”
EPILOGUE
