Take My Body (Curse Bound 2)

“Seriously? You think that kind of shit will fly?” The man shook his head. “It’s five hundred tomorrow, or we’ll be looking at higher interest rates,” he said as if he were a hedge fund manager, not some lowlife in an ill-fitting polyester suit. “And with the amount you owe us, Russo, you don’t wanna go there.”

The hell?

Then again, it wasn’t his problem what kind of trouble Gunner’s stupidity had gotten him into. Gambling? Drugs? None of Caspian’s business. Though the scent of cigarettes wafting from the debt collector did make his lip twitch with an urge he’d never felt before. Almost as if he... wanted to fill his lungs with calmingly warm smoke. But he would not do that, because it was a disgusting habit!

“Sorry. Should I expect you tomorrow circa nine?”

The man nodded, the frown on his face deepening. “Yeah. ‘Circa’ nine, Russo.” He walked off, shaking his head.

A loud bark made Caspian glance over the shoulder, and only then did he realize Gunner’s unsightly home was at the very edge of the vast trailer park, because the mesh fence and trees were just behind the nearest mobile home.

An orange dog sat in the middle of a cluttered lawn, between a pink flamingo that had long lost its bright color, and a garden gnome that missed half of its hat. When Caspian looked beyond the animal’s curious ears, he saw no one other than Mad Madge sitting on the steps to the old trailer with a mug of coffee between her bony fingers.

“Hey there, honey!” She waved at him and smiled. “Will your brother walk Dingo for me tomorrow?”

“My brother?” Caspian asked before he could have bitten his tongue. Mad Madge wore a lush pink dress, and purple leggings paired with denim trainers. She didn’t pick up on Caspian’s blunder and exhaled, taking another sip of her warm beverage.

“Dingo really likes Noah. And I think walking the dog does him a lot of good too. Way more important than rehabilitation, if you ask me.”

It seemed both brothers were bad eggs then.

“Sure… yes, I think he will,” Caspian said, retreating to his trailer, but he didn’t get to dive into the dingy old box. A strong hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed.

Caspian was out of patience at this point, but when he realized it was Todd Brown, he yelped in a pitch so high the menace actually stepped back with his eyebrows raised high.

“What’s up with you, Gun? Did the Snowman scare you?” he asked, looking back at another man, whom Caspian also recognized as a member of Gunner’s high school gang. Todd’s younger brother, Ralph, had fiery hair and a long scar along the whole of his grim face, but he’d doubled in size since teenagehood, and his chest muscles and biceps threatened to rip open the flimsy T-shirt he wore.

Caspian stepped back, his stomach twisting as if Todd had stuffed his big hand through his navel and pulled at his guts. The horrible moment from last night came back, crashing into Caspian like a bottle smashed on the side of his head. He could feel hands holding him in place as his pants were yanked down. And then, silence. Mocking laughter.

Maybe this lucid dream was his chance to get back at them? In Gunner’s body, he was taller than either of these bastards and just as big—no longer a tiny twerp, helpless at their feet, but a man who could smash his fist into Todd Brown’s face so hard the creep could never again claim to be the ginger Casanova.

As he simmered in his fury, Ralph cocked his head, drawing more of Caspian’s attention to the hairs growing between his thick eyebrows. “I texted you, Gunner. Did you get my message?”

Caspian took his phone out and put in the PIN number—the PIN number! It wasn’t stored in his memory, but his fingers knew it, and the cracked screen revealed the picture of a boxing champion set as the desktop image. And over it, alongside information about a new message was today’s date. Only one day had passed since Caspian’s unfortunate gym visit.

“I haven’t read it yet. My girl kept me busy all morning,” he improvised, and the lie made both brothers grin.

“Fair enough. Just don’t be like him and get tied down with three screaming brats,” Todd said, and Ralph slapped him on the head.

“The meathead’s just jealous my Trinny is fertile like a well-plowed field.”

No.

Jesus Christ.

Caspian laughed with the two men, wondering what indecent comment he was expected to make.

You just make sure your plow is the only one digging into that fertile ground?

No. That didn’t seem like the right thing to say at all. So he opened the message instead while the two brothers teased one another.

[We comin to talk about the THING] was all the text said, and Caspian couldn’t help but feel the message not only didn’t bring anything to the table, but was redundant altogether.