The expected nightmare never came. Days passed and the only things running through Ferris\u2019 dreams were shadows and whispers. There was something different about that night. Ferris hadn\u2019t been a reluctant bystander or an unwilling accessory to a crime. From the moment he\u2019d burst into the stairwell to the sound of bone cracking on flesh\u2014a fist hitting Demos\u2019 cheek; the image of Aldo pinning him, twisting back his hair\u2014the red of blood and the violet of bruises. Ferris had wanted it.<\/p>\n
He had wanted to see Aldo die.<\/p>\n
Ferris sat up in bed with a groan. Everything ached. Keeping up with Demos had been more challenging than he\u2019d expected. He glanced over to see Demos still asleep, somehow managing to claim the majority of the bed in spite of his small frame. Somewhere, Ferris could hear the chime of his phone\u2014a text\u2014but it was muffled, far away. His eyes scanned the nightstand, the bed, the floor. The chime came again.<\/p>\n
It was out in the living room.<\/p>\n
\u201cShit,\u201d Ferris muttered.<\/p>\n
\u201cUgh.\u201d Demos rolled over, burying his face in a pillow. \u201cI\u2019m trying to sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n
There he was, complaining about the slightest movement and a single spoken word. Ferris had the brief notion to compare him to a princess on a pea but thought better of it. He instead slipped out of bed and tugged on some semblance of an outfit. By the time he realized these were yesterday\u2019s jeans, he was already in the living room.<\/p>\n
Seamus was lounging on the couch, feet up on the coffee table with a plate of toast on his belly. \u201cThere he is,\u201d Seamus said. The toast crunched as he ate, crumbs scattering onto the cushions.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey. You\u2019re up early.\u201d Ferris didn\u2019t have the energy to mention the mess. He held his back, wincing at the dull pain that had crept up his body. \u201cDamnit.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBeen at the gym?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUh, yeah. I had a lot of\u2014\u201c Ferris pushed up his glasses in an attempt to rub the bleariness from his eyes. It didn\u2019t work. \u201c\u2014missed cardio to make up for.\u201d<\/p>\n
Seamus dusted a few toast crumbs from his shirt. \u201cThat how you got that cut?\u201d He gestured to his mouth.<\/p>\n
Ferris had already forgotten about his marred lip. And<\/i> about getting clocked across the face with the butt of a pistol. The cut had healed somewhat but apparently not enough to go unnoticed.<\/p>\n
\u201cSure. Uh, have you seen my phone?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d Seamus held up his other hand, giving the phone a wave. \u201cYou got a text from your mum but she uses all these funny words.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, stop reading my shit.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s a\u2014\u201c Seamus held the screen closer to his face, squinting. \u201c\u2014mitzvah<\/i>?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris swiped the phone from Seamus\u2019 hand. \u201cTolerating you<\/i>.\u201d With a sigh, he stared at the message until the letters came into focus. \u201cOh, she wants me to housesit next\u2014ow<\/i>.\u201c<\/p>\n
Something thumped into his leg. Ferris looked down to see a disoriented pug at his ankle. Stanley was dressed up in his Diva<\/i> sweater, something Seamus must have done when Ferris wasn\u2019t looking. His corkscrew tail wagged furiously.<\/p>\n
\u201cStan, I think you have more eyes than brain cells,\u201d Ferris said with a frown. How did he, of all people, end up with the stupidest dog on the planet?<\/p>\n
The pug waddled toward the door then looked back with a walleyed huff.<\/p>\n
Ferris sighed. \u201cI\u2019d better walk him before he hurts himself.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, let me do it.\u201d Seamus sat up in an instant, nearly dropping his plate. \u201cI want to walk him.\u201d<\/p>\n
This wasn\u2019t the first time Seamus had offered to take the dog outside. It was strange. He\u2019d been doing it more often lately, even in the cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d Ferris asked. \u201cYou hate doing, uh\u2014things that could be construed as chores.\u201d<\/p>\n
Seamus pointed at him with his entire hand, eyes set in a stern gaze. \u201cMate, that pug is a girl magnet. I don\u2019t even have to dress well and they come running.\u201d Then, his voice raised in pitch. \u201dWhat\u2019s his name? He\u2019s so cute, I love his little sweater! Can I pet him?<\/i>\u201d Somehow, he\u2019d managed an exquisite impersonation of a young American woman. Maybe a little too west coast but still impressive.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen have you ever<\/i> dressed well?\u201d Ferris closed his phone with a snap. \u201cAnd stop using my dog to pick up women.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAw, Fer. Come on<\/i>.\u201d Seamus left the sofa, scooping Stanley up from the floor to leave a kiss on his wrinkled face. \u201cIt\u2019s our bonding time.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris ran his hands down his face. \u201cUgh, fine. Just don\u2019t stay out too long.\u201d<\/p>\n
Soon, Seamus had dressed Stanley up in even more clothing Ferris couldn\u2019t remember buying, nestled him into a harness, and whisked the pug out the door. Well, whatever made him happy.<\/p>\n
Five seconds after the front door closed, the bedroom door cracked open. Demos peered out like a teen trying to sneak past somebody\u2019s parents.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs he gone?\u201d Demos whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, he went to walk Stan.\u201d Ferris gestured out with his thumb. \u201cWhy don\u2019t we just tell him already? This is getting ridic\u2014wait, is that my sweater?\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos adjusted the collar of the navy blue Yale sweater but made no effort to reply to the question. Everything about it was wrong. Demos had done nothing at Yale aside from crashing his dorm room and drinking in the Timothy Dwight library. He hadn\u2019t even attended college period<\/i>. On top of that, it was too big for him\u2014the sleeves hung past his knuckles; the hem brushed his upper thigh. For some reason, it brought an unwanted heat to Ferris\u2019 face.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow long does that usually take?\u201d Demos asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know, twenty minutes? Longer if he meets\u2014hey<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
The moment Ferris said \u201ctwenty minutes,\u201d Demos was invading his personal space. He tugged Ferris forward by the top of his pants then immediately began to unfasten the button.<\/p>\n
Demos smiled. \u201cI think I can do this in twenty minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFuck<\/i>, Demos\u2014\u201c Ferris\u2019 heart tried and failed to do some kind of Olympic somersault. Two points out of ten. He was so pathetic it was almost funny.<\/p>\n
Demos leveraged his other hand to drag Ferris in for a warm kiss. Ferris made some kind of muffled noise against his partner\u2019s mouth, unable to do much more as he felt a tongue slide past his still-healing lip. He winced.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry.\u201d Demos pulled back, his brow drawn. \u201cDoes it\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
Then, the front door opened.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, forgot the little bags that\u2014\u201c Seamus stopped in the doorway, dumbstruck. \u201c\u2014oh<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
For what felt like ages, the three stared at one another. Demos, with one hand holding the back of Ferris\u2019 head, the other tugging at his zipper. Ferris, frozen solid. And Seamus, squinting at the two as he balanced Stanley\u2019s plump body in one arm like a frozen turkey.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait<\/i>.\u201d Seamus held up a hand, now glaring. \u201cWait, wait<\/i>. You\u2019re telling me\u2014\u201c He sucked in a breath through his nose. \u201cYou\u2019re telling me this entire time<\/i> we could have been fucking?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat<\/i>?\u201d Ferris evicted Demos\u2019 hand from his pants with a slap. \u201cNo<\/i>!\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos folded his arms, disturbingly calm. \u201cCome on, Seamus. He\u2019s not a slut<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
At this, Seamus only shrugged. \u201cWell, at least now the three of us can\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cI already told you no!\u201d Demos snapped.<\/p>\n
Ferris\u2019 stare flickered back to Demos. \u201cWhat do you mean you already<\/i> told him no?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s nothing.\u201d Demos waved a hand as if he were turning down an offered hors d\u2019oeuvre. \u201cIt was a long time ago.\u201d<\/p>\n
Too much information was hitting Ferris from every direction. He dug his fingers into his forehead as if trying to shield himself from whatever revelation was coming next. This<\/i> was why Demos had kept putting this off. This<\/i> was the conversation he\u2019d been protecting him from.<\/p>\n
Ferris looked back up. \u201cWhat the fuck<\/i> do you two talk about when I\u2019m not here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook,\u201d Demos said to Seamus. \u201cNow you\u2019ve made him mad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m mad at you<\/i>, too! Jesus Christ. I\u2014I need some air.\u201d<\/p>\n
Seamus tottered as Ferris pushed him aside then disappeared down the hallway. He glanced back at Demos. \u201cShould we follow him?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou keep your fucking hands off him, Seamus.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine<\/i>. You never let me have any fun.\u201d<\/p>\n
Downstairs, Ferris paced up and down the sidewalk in front of his apartment building. He probably looked like he\u2019d lost his mind but couldn\u2019t bring himself to care. It was still chilly outside and he\u2019d neglected to bring a jacket. He found that difficult to care about, too.<\/p>\n
They had said everything so casually. Intimacy wasn\u2019t a big deal to Seamus\u2014or to Demos. The two of them used to\u2014<\/p>\n
Ferris stopped beside the red brick wall, fighting his oncoming headache. He didn\u2019t want to think about it. He knew it; he\u2019d known for a long time. Something was twisting around in his stomach\u2014something he\u2019d felt before. The first time he had seen Demos under the bleachers, caged against the wall by the arms of that boy. When he saw Demos in the hall, his hand brushing the wrist of another, newer boyfriend. Every time Demos adjusted his collar to reveal a red mark on his throat. Ferris\u2019 gut had wrenched each time and each time he\u2019d been too stupid to understand why.<\/p>\n
But Demos and Seamus\u2014it was so long ago. This was ridiculous. Jealousy over something that had happened back when they were teens. Probably more than once. Probably a lot.<\/p>\n
Ferris shook his head, forcing himself back into the present. Demos\u2019 past\u2014who he had been with. When. How. It didn\u2019t matter. Seamus had said once, back on his first day bartending, \u201cIt was nice\u2014real nice. But I don\u2019t think he meant it.\u201d Ferris rubbed his hands over his arms to fight the chill as he remembered Seamus adding, \u201cYou know, I don\u2019t know if he\u2019s ever meant it.\u201d<\/p>\n
But Demos meant it now.<\/p>\n
Didn\u2019t he?<\/p>\n
\u201cPescetto, wait\u2014\u201c came a voice from the building\u2019s entrance. Demos. \u201cCome on, he was kidding.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris turned with a glare. \u201cWas<\/i> he?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, you know him. He\u2019ll fuck anything.\u201d Demos paused. \u201cNot that you\u2019re anything<\/i>.\u201d He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat; he\u2019d actually had the foresight to bring outerwear. Demos patted over the pockets, a single cigarette dangling from his mouth. \u201cI mean\u2014shit, I need a light.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris sighed then pulled a matchbook from his pocket. The same one from yesterday. He struck a match and cupped his hand to shield it from the cold air. Demos leaned in before exhaling a small puff of smoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks.\u201d Demos pulled the cigarette from his lips then looked up. \u201cUm, he mentioned it once. Back when we were in school.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. You two used to\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t serious,\u201d Demos said. \u201cI promised him you were straight and that you\u2014you wouldn\u2019t be into that, anyway. I guess I was wrong about the first thing, but\u2014you\u2019re not<\/i> into that, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris glanced away. The knowledge that Demos and Seamus had casually hooked up years ago\u2014that was something he could live with. It wasn\u2019t a pleasant thought, but he could move past it. But this, the thought of watching it happen right in front of his eyes. Here, and now?<\/p>\n
\u201cNo<\/i>.\u201d His face burned. He paused before asking the question he didn\u2019t want the answer to, \u201cAre you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris swallowed down the protest caught in his throat and let his eyes drift back to Demos.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou and me\u2014I spent so many years thinking this could never happen,\u201d Demos said. He lowered his cigarette, ashing onto the sidewalk. \u201cThat you\u2019d never look at me the way I look at you. But the second you took my face in your hands and told me you loved me, the second you proved me wrong\u2014\u201c He took in a soft breath, steadying the shiver in his throat. \u201cThat\u2019ll never leave me. The sound of your voice, the way my chest felt so\u2014so full<\/i>. Warm. The way you looked at me like I mattered\u2014like I was the only other person in the world. That\u2019s all I want. That\u2019s all I\u2019ll ever<\/i> want.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris wasn\u2019t sure how much time passed as he stood there without a single thing to say. The world seemed to have slipped away. The figures moving past on the sidewalk, the pang in his stomach\u2014all of it had left him. He wanted nothing more than to do it again, to hold that face in his hands and say out loud just how much he loved him. Instead, he simply exhaled, letting out the stale air that had collected in his chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo\u2014\u201c Ferris eyed the sidewalk then looked back up. \u201cThat\u2019s a no<\/i>, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos let out a short laugh. \u201cFerris\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry. I\u2014\u201c It was only then he noticed the other people on the street. Eyes. Witnesses. Reasons he couldn\u2019t reach for him or kiss him. Holding back\u2014for some reason, it ached. \u201cThat\u2019s all I want, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood,\u201d Demos said. His fingers brushed the edge of Ferris\u2019 sleeve. \u201cDon\u2019t worry. I won\u2019t let him touch you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris scoffed. \u201cI<\/i> won\u2019t let him touch me.\u201d<\/p>\n
It came to him again, Seamus at the bar, his voice as he said, \u201cI don\u2019t think he meant it.\u201d There was something distant in it. Something almost\u2014lonely.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you think he ever wanted\u2014more<\/i>? With you?\u201d Ferris asked.<\/p>\n
Demos watched his cigarette smolder for a moment. \u201cI don\u2019t know. He\u2019s hard to read.\u201d His gaze wandered down the sidewalk toward the intersection. \u201cHe\u2019s been around, but I don\u2019t think anyone\u2019s ever said they loved him and meant it. I think sometimes\u2014he\u2019s hurting.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s good at hiding it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot good enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
In that second, Ferris felt a well-deserved pang at disregarding Seamus so quickly. Was it guilt? Seamus\u2019 mother had never been there for him, even when they had lived in the same home. Ferris wasn\u2019t sure if Seamus\u2019 father was even a real person. Every one of Seamus\u2019 relationships had lasted an average of two weeks. He had always laughed it off, always insisted he preferred it this way. Maybe it was an act. Maybe he wanted something more.<\/p>\n
Maybe Ferris was no better than his parents.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m such an asshole,\u201d Ferris said under his breath.<\/p>\n
Demos breathed out a soft plume of smoke. \u201cYou\u2019re not responsible for his happiness.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, but\u2014I can do better,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cCan\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can try.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris heard a rustle of fabric. He glanced over to see Demos with an arm out. He was offering his jacket.<\/p>\n
Demos gave a slight smile. \u201cYou look cold.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something stirred in Ferris\u2019 chest. Demos, who was always complaining about the temperature, always shivering and kvetching, was offering his jacket. There was no way on earth it would fit over Ferris\u2019 shoulders, but this perfect idiot was trying anyway.<\/p>\n
Ferris laughed before he could stop himself. \u201cNo, you keep it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou sure?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d It was then Ferris noticed just how close Demos was. Close enough for their arms to brush, close enough to see the color in Demos\u2019 eyes. He watched Demos\u2019 gaze drop from his eyes, settling on his mouth. Demos\u2019 free hand lifted, reached for his face, then pulled back. They were still in public.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes your lip still hurt, Pescetto?\u201d Demos asked, his voice soft.<\/p>\n
Ferris let the new nickname sink in once more. Little fish<\/i> wasn\u2019t really the most dignified thing he could be called, but then again, Fishbones<\/i> had never been dignified to begin with. And the way Demos said it, the way his voice closed in around that single word\u2014it forced a skip in Ferris\u2019 heart that he would never admit out loud.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s fine,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cStop worrying.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos\u2019 thoughts must have wandered back to that moment in the abandoned gas station, as his eyes had darkened and his voice lowered enough to mutter, \u201cI wish I could kill him again<\/i>.\u201d He tugged his coat back on and straightened the collar with a snap<\/i>.<\/p>\n
\u201cEasy,<\/i> there. It\u2019s over.\u201d Whatever Demos was imagining, it seemed like a task that involved digging another<\/i> hole. A task Ferris would leave the Ghost to do on his own. \u201cDid you tell Victor? About\u2014\u201c He trailed off before he could say \u201cAldo\u201d out loud.<\/p>\n
\u201cI did.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe didn\u2019t ask for any evidence?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, yeah. Exhibit A for my murder trial: the severed ear they found in my nightstand. No,<\/i> he didn\u2019t ask for evidence. What is this, Snow White<\/i>?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe you need to get back in bed. You sound a little cranky.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry, I\u2019m just\u2014he didn’t say anything.\u201d Demos took a drag of his cigarette, then breathed out a plume. \u201cI don\u2019t know what\u2019s going to happen next.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust be patient. They\u2019ll tell you sooner or later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. You know me, a shining paragon of patience.\u201d Demos groaned. \u201cFuck, I need a distraction.\u201d His eyes drifted back in Ferris\u2019 direction, flickering up then down. \u201cWhere were we before Seamus walked in?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris gestured to the sidewalk with both hands. \u201cWe\u2019re in public<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, let\u2019s go back upstairs.\u201d Demos stubbed the cigarette out on the smoker\u2019s pole.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re killing me, Ghost,\u201d Ferris said as they headed toward the entrance. \u201cI had to tell Seamus I was sore from the gym<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, that reminds me. I want to go with you next time.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris blinked. \u201cTo the gym? You\u2019re actually going to work out?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGod<\/i>, no. I just want to watch.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris sighed as he held the door open for Demos. \u201cYou really have no shame, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos glanced backward with the hint of a smile. \u201cHave I ever?\u201d<\/p>\n
The door drifted shut behind them, the glass blocking out the chill from the street. This was the Demos he knew, the one he\u2019d always known. This was the Ghost he\u2019d fallen for, the smile that struck him every time, straight through the chest like so many arrows. This was it\u2014this was all he\u2019d ever wanted.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cYou really haven\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
#<\/p>\n
Seamus had been unusually quiet during his shift at the restaurant. He had learned, early on, that a handsome smile and a healthy dose of friendly conversation could practically double his tips. That evening, however, his smile had been weary, his voice lacking. The only one who\u2019d seemed to notice was Sergio.<\/p>\n
\u201cNice work today.\u201d Sergio leaned on the bar. He and Seamus were the only ones left for the evening.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, just polished that,\u201d Seamus said, eying the elbow on his freshly cleaned counter. Hell, he was starting to sound like Ferris. Now he just needed a pair of glasses and a math book or whatever it was that nerd carried around all day.<\/p>\n
\u201cRight, right.\u201d Sergio straightened himself with a grin. \u201cEverything okay? You were kind of quiet today.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh,\u201d Seamus looked up. \u201cSorry. Is that bad? Shit<\/i>, I\u2019ll do better\u2014I promise.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no.\u201d Sergio waved both hands. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, you\u2019re doing a great job. You\u2019re a natural, even. Where did you say you worked before?\u201d<\/p>\n
Seamus snapped the lid onto a container of lemons. \u201cThe Crafty Crook.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sergio thought for a moment before snapping his fingers in realization. \u201cOh! That was where we\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
Then, he fell silent.<\/p>\n
Seamus raised a brow. \u201cWhere you what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing. Uh, we didn\u2019t do anything. I mean, I<\/i> didn\u2019t do anything. There\u2019s no we<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight,\u201d Seamus said with a lifted brow. A sound from the front of the dining area stole both men\u2019s attention. Someone had walked in the front door.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re closed, mate,\u201d Seamus called, only to have Sergio stop him with a lifted hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s okay, this guy is a, uh\u2014a friend.\u201d<\/p>\n
The man at the entrance didn\u2019t look like any friend Seamus had seen before. He had unwashed, thinning hair and an unsettling glint in his eye. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of a bulky coat and he was avoiding eye contact.<\/p>\n
\u201cI gotta talk shop with my buddy.\u201d Sergio gestured back toward the kitchen with his thumb. \u201cYou head on home, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, all right.\u201d<\/p>\n
The two men disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors and Seamus found himself alone behind the bar. Well, time to go home. Would Ferris be there\u2014would Demos? He had been over so often Seamus wondered if he should start contributing to rent. His visits were different now. In the past it would be the three of them, together in front of the television. A card game at the dining table. Bothering Demos in the kitchen.<\/p>\n
Now, Demos spent half his time shuttered away in Ferris\u2019 bedroom. The reason was painfully obvious. How could Seamus have overlooked it? Why hadn\u2019t he caught on\u2014how long had they been going at it, anyway? And why hadn\u2019t they told him? But Seamus had no right to be upset. He and Demos had fooled around back in school, right behind Ferris\u2019 back. But even then\u2014<\/p>\n
Even then, there was something between the two of them. Something Seamus could never reach, could never be a part of. There was that way they looked at one another: with trust, with love.<\/p>\n
Seamus\u2019 stomach began to churn, as if he\u2019d eaten too much too fast. Maybe this whole \u201cbeing employed\u201d thing was taking a toll on him.<\/p>\n
Seamus knelt to stock a few juice bottles into the fridge beneath the bar. He thought back to what Sergio had said only minutes prior. \u201cNice work today.<\/i>\u201d \u201cYou\u2019re a natural<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
Maybe this was worthwhile, after all. Maybe he was finally doing something right.<\/p>\n
He straightened himself, grabbing the very last item that needed to be put away. The container of lemons. It had only lifted a few centimeters from the bar before his hand slipped. Plastic clattered and the bright yellow slices tumbled across the floor he had just finished mopping.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, shit<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
Fine. Maybe he wasn\u2019t doing this entirely<\/i> right. At least no one had seen. He continued cursing under his breath as he crouched to gather up the lemon bits. Well, these were all ruined now, weren\u2019t they? And he had to mop again. So much for going home.<\/p>\n
Another ten minutes passed before he\u2019d thrown the ruined fruit away, wiped up the seeds, and re-mopped the floor. Maybe Sergio wouldn\u2019t notice. Maybe Seamus could claim that a very large <\/i>number of customers had really<\/i> wanted Limoncello martinis with extra<\/i> garnish. Yeah, that sounded believable, right?<\/p>\n
Seamus sighed. \u201cBloody lemons.\u201d<\/p>\n
A crash from the kitchen wiped any thoughts of citrus fruit from his mind. Just past the doors there was the clatter of metal hitting the floor and the din of two men shouting between thuds and grunts. The hair on the back of Seamus\u2019 neck bristled. That didn\u2019t sound very much like \u201cshop talk.\u201d With a hard swallow, he slid a half-empty bottle of vodka from the shelf and moved.<\/p>\n
The swinging doors burst open as Seamus stumbled into the kitchen. The clamor of struggle, though jarring, had not prepared Seamus for the sight before him. The \u201cfriend\u201d who had walked in just minutes prior had his back to Seamus as he grappled Sergio down onto a metal counter. Kitchen utensils had spilled over the floor, gleaming under the fluorescent lighting. The stranger had one hand on Sergio\u2019s throat, the other raised in a tight fist.<\/p>\n
Without thinking, Seamus lifted the bottle.<\/p>\n
Glass shattered and the stringent scent of alcohol saturated the air when the vodka bottle smashed over the man\u2019s skull. He staggered, bleeding as glass shards glinted in his hair. He was only disoriented for a moment, but apparently a moment was all Sergio needed.<\/p>\n
Seamus could only stare as Sergio pushed himself upright, slid a steel cleaver from the counter, and plunged it straight into his assailant\u2019s chest. The man screamed. Bone cracked and blood spattered. The knife fell with him, wedged firm in his sternum as his body toppled onto the blood and liquor stained kitchen floor. He gagged, shuddering.<\/p>\n
And then the stranger stopped moving.<\/p>\n
For a minute, both Sergio and Seamus stood in place. Neither moved, as if maybe standing perfectly still would keep them from being seen, from having to address what had just happened in the middle of the Ristorante Giorgetti kitchen after closing time. The lemons Seamus had dropped earlier were nothing compared to this. Blood, broken glass, pooling vodka, and an entire human body lay scattered over the tile, like the playroom of a fitful toddler.<\/p>\n
The two men stared for another moment. A leaning pot lid finally fell, clattering to the tile with a rolling, echoing clang.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh,\u201d Seamus finally said. \u201cYou\u2019re\u2014going to kill me, aren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d Sergio panted, wide eyed and half spattered in red. There was fear in his eyes, even more frantic than when he\u2019d been pinned to the countertop. \u201cBut Fish is definitely<\/i> going to kill me<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The expected nightmare never came. Days passed and the only things running through Ferris\u2019 dreams were shadows and whispers. There was something different about that night. Ferris hadn\u2019t been a reluctant bystander or an unwilling accessory to a crime. From the moment he\u2019d burst into the stairwell to the sound of bone cracking on flesh\u2014a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-673","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-02"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-aR","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/673","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=673"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/673\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":674,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/673\/revisions\/674"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=673"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=673"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=673"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}