I also held my breath for two hundred and four seconds.
By the time I got out, I was so exhausted, I didn't even have the energy to acknowledge Rogue, who was waiting for me outside the showers, looking every bit as tired as I was.
I slept until almost noon that Saturday, only to wake up to a string of texts from a new group chat called ‘1 girl, 2 cocks.’ Rogue and an unknown number were texting back and forth, and, amongst all the blabbering, I discovered the other person was Severen, who joined Rogue as a babysitter for the week while Dread is training.
The two of them took shifts with me, passing me back and forth like one of those flour babies my home econ teacher assigned us to care for in high school.
They followed me aroundeverywhere, not allowing me out of their sight except for restroom breaks and showers. At night, they continued to stay right outside my door, which inevitably attracted all sorts of attention. They were already questioning why Rogue slept outside of it those couple of nights before Dread left, so when Severen popped up, they started treating the hallway like it was a fucking catwalk, hoping to take one of them to their rooms instead.
It didn't work, and truthfully, it's surprising Rogue hasn't complained once about having to reject them.
Both laughed in my face when I offered them to sleep on my floor, citing how they’re attached to their dicks and not willing to risk losing them for me.
Valid, but I still felt bad.
Purely against my will, I learned way too much about them. Like Rogue’s yearly trip to Tennessee, where he enters a food challenge requiring him to eat one hundred of the hottest wings within twenty minutes. The prize is free food for a year, and he hasn’t won yet, but he swears this year is the year.
Or the fact that Severen calls his grandma every day to tell her all about his romance novels. Apparently, she's who got him into reading. Except now, he yaps to me about them too. He's currently reading a small-town romance series, and, admittedly, I’m one thousand percent invested in it.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t understand why they’re so willing to put their lives on hold to babysit me for Dread until they spent two hours one night texting in the group chat about all the things they’d do to Lionel if they got to see him.
So I guess that answered that.
Now, our group chat is called ‘1 flour baby, 2 cocksuckers’ and, according to them, Dread is due home late tonight.
“He’s not my man,” I tell him tonelessly.
Rogue’s smile widens.
“Oh, don’t be shy,” he teases. “You were walking funny all day last Saturday, and I’ve seen that man’s dick almost as much as my own. It can do some serious damage. I also have it on good authority he’s never wrecked a vagina more than onceormade his two best friends watch the owner of said vagina while he’s away. He’sdefinitelyyour man.”
I don’t like how that knowledge feels like the butterflies in my stomach ingested cocaine, so I pointedly ignore it. Instead, I tip my head back dramatically.
“Rogue,” I groan, drawing out his name. Then, I drop my chin to pin him with a pleading look. “It’s a Saturday morning. I’m tired. You’re likely on crack. We’ve seen enough of each other, and both of us would rather spend time with anyone else. Let’s just take the day off, and if Dread asks, I promise to pretend we went frolicking in a park somewhere.”
He puts a hand the size of my face over his chest, feigning hurt. “You’re, like, the fourth person I’d want to spend time with.”
My expression falls flat, and I give him a dry look. He claps his hands, making me jump while he rubs them together excitedly. “So, what’s on the menu today? Robbing a bank? Hijacking a car? Or maybe we can go the heroic route and help grandmas cross the road and save their cats from trees.”
My tone is dry as I say, “The bank closes in, like, two hours. That's not nearly enough time to plan a proper heist. And can you be any more cliché? When’s the last time you’ve even heard about a cat getting stuck in a tree?”
He looks to the ceiling, contemplating that, then nods, clearly coming to a conclusion.
“You’re right, it’s probably really rare.” His eyes light up as he refocuses on me. “Do you know anyone with a cat?”
“You’re an idiot,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “I’m actually going to see Sable today, so I won’t be alone. No babysitting necessary.”
His face drops, and all his humor extinguishes like smoke in the wind, replaced by mild irritation.
It’s a drastic change in expression for someone like Rogue, but it’s also unsurprising, considering Sable has had plenty to complain about regarding him.
Sable still refuses to talk about the night Rogue went to the funeral home, despite my occasional push. The only thing she’s said about it is that he’s an abomination to the male species, and then she went into a very detailed plan of how she’d embalm him alive if she ever saw him again.
Which just might be today, if Rogue insists on following me again. Honestly, the curiosity has been killing me, so I might kill two birds with one stone—find out what happenedandwatch Sable murder Rogue.
A win-win.
“Rescuing cats is better for the environment,” he states plainly.
