“Nope.” I turned back to the door, but this time, Roscoe lifted me up like a child and carried me over his shoulder to the back room.
The piercing process didn’t take quite as long as I thought it would, and it didn’t hurt that much either, especially since I couldn’t see what was going on. It was a good thing, too. He couldn’t pierce my ears using the normal method of guiding a needle with a stud attached to the end. Apparently half-turns heal so rapidly that the needle could get stuck halfway if it’s notdone quickly enough. He ended up jamming it all the way before quickly guiding the earring through the hole. As soon as it was in, it wasn’t coming out.
Roscoe and I walked back to the apartment, and every step seemed to tug at my lobes. The feeling of something dangling from my ears was going to take a while to get used to. Not only that, but I had felt something odd the moment both of them were secure—a sudden surge of warmth that pulsed through me before dissipating. After that, the eerie glow of the gold dulled and they looked like normal hoop earrings.
I looked up at Roscoe as he smiled, seemingly in relief, his tail swaying in time with his cocky stride.
“You got what you wanted, I guess,” I mumbled as we passed people along the walkway. It felt like the whole world was staring at me now. There was no more blending into the background, no more hiding under hoodies and sunglasses. I was front and center, the side-show no one trusted.
“Wegot whatweneeded,” Roscoe corrected as we began our ascent up the steps toward my apartment, a red envelope taped to the front door.
Roscoe and I glanced at one another, and I grabbed it before stepping inside.
“I guess I can’t keep ignoring them.” I opened the envelope which contained several security camera stills of Roscoe’s idiotic costumes as well as him out of costume leaving my apartment. I began reading the letter, and there wasn’t much to it, just some professionally worded sentences with some legal jargon.
“How long are they gonna give you?”
I sighed and tossed the envelope into the garbage. “Not long enough. I don’t even know where I’m going to live yet.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll put yer stuff into my storage unit. Lucky you ain’t got that much.”
“Then what?”
“You like the beach?” he asked, stepping into the kitchen.
“I like having a roof over my head.”
“I got a buddy that lives in a shack by the ocean. If we give him meat, beer and weed, he’ll let us hang with him.”
“A shack. By the ocean,” I muttered before sitting on my bed. “Can’t we just get a cheap motel near Ruskin Street?”
“You ain’t gonna find a room. The whole reason I was on the streets was because I couldn’t find any werewolf-friendly motels that weren’t already full.”
“How do you even know this buddy of yours is going to say yes?”
“In all the years I’ve known him, Darryl’s had my back. I mean, the guy saves people for a living now.”
I remembered something Rob mentioned last week. “This isn’t the werewolf lifeguard at White Dunes by chance?”
“Ya heard of him, huh?” Roscoe popped open a bottle of beer. “He’s a big fucker, too.”
“He’s one of my old boss’s friends.”
“Darryl’s everybody’s friend. Never met a nicer guy, but he fucks everything that moves.”
“Shocking.”
Roscoe let out a grunted laugh. “Okay I know what yer thinking, but Darryl’s legendary. I don’t know how he does it. He’s even gotten with straight human guys. I wonder what he’s up to lately.”
“When’s the last time you talked to him?”
“Uh…” Roscoe scratched his head. “Three years ago?”
“Well, call him and see if this is okay. You can’t just drop in on someone unannounced like this.”
“It worked with you. Plus, he doesn’t have a phone.” He swallowed the last of his beer and tossed the bottle into the trash can. “How about after I move yer stuff into my storage unit, wepay him a visit? I haven’t been to the beach in years, and you need to get the hell away from this place.”
“How are you going to move my stuff?”
