Owner (Blood Brotherhood 2)

“He used to give me free extras they were going to throw away at the supermarket. I don’t make much money, so I made friends with him when he used to do the bins.”

“What do you mean, made friends when he did the bins?”

“I mean he felt sorry for me when he caught me stealing from the skip. So he said if I met him at a certain time, he’d give me whatever he could. I got lots of baked stuff that way, things that had just gone out of date. I haven't bought food in a year.”

“And what did he get in return?”

Now it’s my turn to ask the what do you mean question. Sounds to me like Father Bryn is making an unsavory and completely dishonorable suggestion.

“I didn’t suck dick for old noodles, if that's what you mean.”

“Anita.” Thor growls my name softly, and for some reason the low volume produces an even more intense reaction than yelling and smacking would have.

“What? He’s implying that I’m some kind of muffin whore.”

Bryn is smirking now. Even Thor is having a hard time keeping a straight face, and he is really very angry at me.

“I have her possessions here. What she had with her, anyway.”

I didn’t notice Thor had my rucksack. It was perched over his shoulder this whole time. It looks small on him. Everything looks small on him.

“Let’s see them.”

Thor tips my bag out. Several packets of noodles and a can or two of soup clunk onto the ground. Kind of a sad little haul, really. I hate the pity on their faces. I hate having people feel sorry for me.

“You’ve been eating out of bins, and you went to Craig’s house to scavenge some more,” Bryn recaps.

“Yes. But he’s gone somewhere. You know where he is?”

There’s a moment where everybody is uncomfortable, and I realize they definitely know something. They are collectively silently agreeing to keep me in the dark.

“He was just a harmless old guy. I called his disappearance into the cops.”

“Why?” Father Bryn scowls the question at me.

“Because everybody deserves to be missed? I don't know. He was sad. Past tense is the right way to talk about him, isn’t it?”

Now they’re all avoiding my gaze. Father Bryn is staring at Thor, as if he’s trying to pound some kind of thought into his brain

“Are you all telepathic?”

“You can take her away,” Bryn says.

“Oh, so you want to talk about me and not have me listen? Shouldn’t you be calling the police about me? After all, a crime has been committed, and with a magical hammer, no less. You know, it felt to me rather like the hammer was acting on its own in some way. Like, I wasn't fully in control of my actions…”

Now I am thinking out loud. Partially to annoy them, of course, but also partially to process what happened. I didn't mean to hurt anybody. I just did what I did. It was like the hammer raised my arms instead of my arms raising the hammer. But is that possible?

“A crime was committed because you do not have the power to wield the hammer,” Thor growls. “It was base instinct, animal impulse that led you to act as you did. It was not the hammer’s fault. My weapon does not bear blame.”

“Your weapon has left some angry German man with his brain matter spread across the kitchen floor,” I say, feeling better when I put it that way. "Not that it matters; if anybody tried to get prints off it now, they’d only get an arse print.”

The old coot looks suitably scandalized. Bryn palms his face. He clearly intended on this meeting having more decorum, and of me being more ashamed and scared of them all — but what do I really have left to lose now?

"What happened in the house?” Bryn prompts me.

“Someone broke into Craig’s house after I let myself in and was smashing it up looking for something. I heard him talking to his accomplice on the phone.”

“Did you hear what they were looking for?” Bryn interjects with another question.

“No. But they were angry and impatient and swearing a lot. Seemed like they were really desperate to get it. Drugs, maybe? Craig didn’t seem like the type, but does anybody?”

“I know what they were looking for,” Bryn says. “You can put her back, Thor.”

“What were they looking for? Who was it? What’s happening? Hey! I killed someone over this. I deserve to know!”

“You deserve endless punishments of unending pain,” Thor says. “Come with me.”

"What's going on? Why did I just kill someone? I deserve answers!”

“You deserve a month of spankings.”

“Put her down in the dungeon,” Bryn says. “She’s a flight risk.”

"You going to let him tell you what to do with me?”

I ask Thor the question as he escorts me away.