After pouring half a tin of lighter fluid on the logs and tinder, I lit a match and threw it in. I kept the flames stoked with the dried Spanish moss I’d gathered from the oaks on the outskirts of the forest.
The back door opened, and Roscoe trotted outside while holding a bottle of beer.
“Let’s have a barbeque!”
“Where the hell did you get beer, Roscoe?” I sprinted toward him to snatch it away, but he kept it out of reach.
“Relax. It’s only one beer. I’m gonna cook with it.” He put it to his lips and gulped half of it down. “Don’t need the whole bottle, and I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”
“You’re so full of shit,” I said, sitting back down on the lawn chair and using a poker on the burning logs. “I’m the one that’s going to get in trouble.”
“The mayor ain’t gonna do nothin’ to you while Darryl’s here. Two alphas cancel each other out.”
“Mosavi’s an elder, Roscoe.”
“So? I’d like to see that fancy ol’ sourpuss scrap with someone like Darryl.”
“I don’t think that’ll go as well as you think, especially since his wife’s a witch.”
“Ooo, I forgot about her,” he muttered, setting the beer on one of the plastic tables before plopping down next to me. “If I just use it fer flavoring, I don’t think he’ll have a problem with it.”
The door opened again, and this time, Austin stepped outside, looking at both of us before turning away.
“Get yer ass out here,” Roscoe called out jokingly.
Austin let out a huff of air and slowly backed outside again. He turned and sniffed.
“How did you find that beer?”
“That beer?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
His ears flattened and he looked away.
“I mean, beer, you know? It’s illegal and stuff.”
“Mmhmm.” I grabbed the bottle and dumped it on the ground.
“Hey!”
“Cooking with it, my ass.” I tossed the bottle into the metal trash can next to the shed.
Austin sat across from Roscoe on the other side of the pit.
“This is gonna be a long week,” he growled out. “Why did you invite Darryl of all people?”
“Ask yer kuu mate,” Roscoe replied. “Darryl’s a good friend, and I didn’t mind.”
“Why don’t you two get along?” I asked.
“Don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Maybe you should, especially if it has to do with Adam.” I sat next to Roscoe again, turning toward their bedroom window as the moans grew louder. “Have they always done this?”
“The sex shit doesn’t bother me,” he said. “It’s the guy’s better-than-you attitude. Every time they’re together, Adam won’t shut up comparing me to him. Plus, I know there’s more going on. I’m not stupid, I just ignore it.”
“The kid’s not too bright when it comes to, you know, anyone else but himself,” Roscoe said.
“That’s the problem. He’s twenty years old and still acts like a kid, and he doesn’t listen. It’s not gonna work out when this is over, and I don’t think he’s worth hanging on to.”
