Done with one another.
The first part sat heavy; the second slipped like my favorite knife between my ribs. I didn’t have a name for that feeling, only that it made the room feelsmaller.
“I know,” came a hushed voice through the cracked bedroom door.
Joe.
Another murmur answered, too soft to catch. The bells that started when I looked at my wrists intensified.
“No, the timing isn’t right. We still have product in holding and I’ve only just sealed the deal on the next.”
The next? What the fuck?
I scrambled out of bed, heart in my throat as I searched for my shit. My clothes were nowhere in sight, so I grabbed the T-shirt Joe lended me the night before and threw it on hastily, followed by the sweats.
“Shit,” I hissed under my breath. “How in the seven hells am I supposed to get out of here?” The master bedroom was right off the kitchen, and I’d bet the next coming of Jesus that he was right between me and the garage door. I was feeling more than a little panicked as I looked around for an escape and—
“Bingo.” I whisper shouted when I realized the whole side wall was a giant set of French doors.
A low murmur floated through the cracked door again and stopped me in my tracks. “Moving now would set me ten steps back,” Joe chastised the person on the other end of the line. His voice made my hair stand on end. It sounded nothing like the upbeat man I’d spent the night with. It was flat and detached, and each word sounded as if it were coated in ice. “I’d like to not make a scene with this contract.”
I slipped out the door. I didn’t need to hear any more to know I needed to get the fuck home.
It was no easy feat to sneak through suburbia unseen, but I made it work. Rather than walk, I begrudgingly called an Uber and worked extra hard to shut down my mind on the way home.
I didn’t even stop for food on the way. That could be considered Jesus’ thirty-eighth miracle.
The lobby of my apartment building was a ghost town. Odd. Where was the ever-present sound of murder? Though sunlight didn’t hurt the undead, against popular opinion, it didn’t mean we fucking liked it. It was miserablyhot, attracted bugs, made me sweat, and caused way too much joy.
Fuck. The. Sun.
When I got to the top of the steps, dread froze my feet. It had been a while since I left Jesus for so long on his own. You’d think that he preferred it that way, but nope. The little dickhead required king treatment and kings needed to be tended to.
“Okay,” I sighed under my breath. “Time to face the music.” The old brass door knob creaked as I twisted it. If cringes were audible, mine would creaked louder. “Jesus?”
I was met with total darkness in the entryway and cringed again because Ineverturned the lights off.
Ever.
Which meant that Jesus…
“Our Father,” I called out. “Who art in Hell. Hallowed be thy feline name.” Maybe praying to the demon cat would appease his highness?
The floor groaned beneath my feet and I wanted to die. It was like a fucking beacon to my location.
“Thy kingdom come, thy murderous will be done.”
Only a foreboding silence answered.
“We can talk about this, Jesus. God was New Testament when he made you, remember? All forgiving?”
The door front clicked shut, sealing me inside with Lucifer’s most deadly creature.
A few quick steps later and I was flicking on the living room lamp. There, glaring from my thrifted arm chair, was Jesus. The yellow lamp light shown down on his fur in an eerie display, casting shadows onto the floor that made him look bigger than he already was.
The only warning I got was a small flick of his tail before the monster pounced.
“Ahh!” I threw my arms up, shielding my face in a pathetic attempt to save it from the incoming assault. Eighteen razor sharp claws latched onto my front, drawing a shriek from my throat as nearly forty pounds of hell hung from my skin. “Jesus Lucifer Fucking Christ,let go of me!”
