Chapter 6
NORMAL GROCERY SHOPPING
brEE
“Are you two okay?” I asked once Orson closed his door.
“Peachy as fuck,” Baz said, turning another page of the journal.
“Do you have to read that right now?”
Baz clicked his tongue, closed the book, and looked at the glowing store in the night.
“You want to talk about Orson?” Baz asked.
“Surprise, surprise. He wants to leave. I’m not surprised.
Are you surprised, Nemo? Who needs him? Obviously not me.
Don’t need anything. Definitely don’t need family.
But admittedly, it stings just a little when they decide to forget I even exist. Hazel had been the only Fury family member who didn’t see me as— Fuck.
” Baz cut himself off quickly. Groaning loudly, he slid down in the seat. I swallowed thickly.
“Um, Nemo?” I asked.
“Orson doesn’t make choices flippantly. He’s a strategist.”
“What are you saying?” I asked.
“Orson was right,” he said, and my heart stopped. “Things aren’t working.”
“Nemo,” I begged. His dark eyes looked into mine. God, how did this all go to shit so quickly?
“I’m not leaving,” he assured. “No one is.”
“Then what do you mean?” I asked. His eyes slid to Baz.
“Things are going to change. They have to.”
“Talking openly would be a nice change,” I snapped, throwing my hands up.
“Orson has been in the store a while,” Nemo said, slyly changing the subject. Shit.
“Let’s go in. Baz, are you … okay?”
“Just wishing I’d gotten a lobotomy before we left,” he said cheerfully. “I missed it in the asylum gift shop.”
“Considering the news alert, let's avoid that type of humor.”
“What type?” He asked.
“The type of humor reserved for people who escaped a mental hospital.” I watched Nemo peel off his blood-soaked shirt and toss it on the floorboard. This was going to go great.
“Right, right. I’ll stick with normal people humor. Like … uh … “ Baz looked to Nemo for help. The other man shrugged, having no clue. “Being medicated?” I shook my head. “Murder?” I shook my head again. Baz snapped his fingers.
“Necrophilia! Everyone loves that one.”
“Baz, no.”
“Okay, well, the incest jokes are a little too close to home, but I’ll stick with that,” he said, waving his hand. I looked over at Nemo. He smiled and gave me a thumbs-up.
“Oh my god,” I said. “You two are like, actually clueless.” I sagged in my chair. “Wait, what do you mean the incest jokes are too close to home?” I hissed.
“Time to shop!” Baz chirped, opening the door and sliding out. Nemo followed.
Even in the middle of the night, the twenty-four-hour mega store in my boring hometown attracted a crowd of shoppers.
It was odd being back after all that had happened.
I remembered shopping here throughout high school, trying to find edible foods despite my half-vampire neurodivergence.
A cart full of tomato soup was often the only thing I left with.
As if anything red and liquid could replace a relentless and disturbing desire for blood.
Nemo strutted through the store shirtless. His tan, thickly muscled body eclipsed the size of every other person here. He was focused on licking the remaining dried blood off his fingers. He looked like a calm, psychopathic cat, giving itself a satisfying tongue-bath after a murderous battle.
Baz was giddy, which only made his villain-like outfit all the more unsettling. Everyone who witnessed him clapping his gloved leather hands and giggling behind a horror clown mask stared at him open-mouthed.
"No one's running from me," he said, leaning towards a man shoveling energy drinks into a cart. "See? He has no clue I'll kill him." The man abandoned his energy drink cart and took off. I watched the guy jog towards customer service.
"Well, hopefully, we can make this quick," I said. Orson had taken off somewhere inside—doing his own shopping while I babysat two grown men, cluelessly terrorizing everyone.
"What do you two like to eat?" I stared at them, realizing how out of place they felt here, even to me. Orson said we had to blend in, but how? Even I struggled, and I'd lived an entire life here, outside the asylum.
"Blackened toast," Baz said. "I know some people don't like how dry it is, but the burnt parts have more flavor than plain toast."
"Baz, you have to be joking."
"No, he's right. Blackened toast is the best," Nemo said. His tongue worked between two fingers as he eyed us. Baz and I stared at him for a moment, forgetting what we were supposed to be doing.
"Am I the only one getting horny?” Baz asked.
"Nope. Let's grab some bread and water, then leave.
" It would be better if we got out of here as quickly as possible.
It had been a mistake coming inside. Orson should have shopped on his own while the rest of us waited in the car.
However, finding out he wanted to abandon Nemo and Baz shocked us all, so here we were—risking capture because we were too jumpy to split up.
This was a mess, and although it was easy to blame Orson for that, he was simply reacting to chaos—trying to manage it the way he knew how.
Ironically, that made him just as much of a liability as Nemo and Baz.
A migraine was forming in my temples. It was the combined result of the flickering fluorescent lights and the realization that it was up to me to keep us all together.
I wasn't feeling confident, which was strange.
I'd kept us together once before, overthrowing Zero, saving my men from confinement, and making us the rulers of Verfallen.
This was different. There wasn't a single issue to tackle. It felt unmanageable. I blew out a breath as I watched Baz root through energy drink cans, reading the flavors while running his gloved fingers across them. He'd accidentally admitted some things in the car that had me very concerned.
All of us had issues and trauma, but Baz was the only one who shielded that depth from even himself. Sometimes, it was impossible to know what he was really thinking. I'm not sure he even knew.
So I had Orson actively trying to abandon half of us and Baz, who may or may not be having a mental breakdown behind fake giggles.
Who was I kidding? Of fucking course he was having a breakdown.
I recalled the way he refused to leave Verfallen even as the rubber of his boots began to melt, clutching the letter from his sister like it was the most essential thing in the world.
Then Orson tried to leave him in a parking lot a day later? Fuck.
Baz grabbed an energy drink and popped it open, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. Liar.
"Usually, you buy things before—never mind," I sighed. "Let's go." Baz handed Nemo the open energy drink as I maneuvered the cart to the bread aisle.
"I don't have a mouth hole—" Baz's comment was interrupted by Nemo's booming laughter.
"Har har, try the drink. Tell me if it's worth peeling my mask up for a sip," he told Nemo while I began throwing loaves of bread in the cart. Maybe Nemo could help me keep us safe and together. Other than a little panic attack and eating a man, he seemed fine…
I looked at the pile of bread. Did we even have money?
A shocked wheeze made me jerk around to see Nemo recovering from his sip of energy drink.
"My gums are vibrating," he said.
"That sounds exciting." Baz snatched it back, peeled the mask over his jaw, and gulped half the can in one go. He handed it back to Nemo, who finished it off quickly. Then, to my horror, Baz pulled two more energy drinks from his pockets.
"Uh," was all I got out before they each popped one open and chugged. When they were finished, he produced two more.
“Guys, that’s not really … suggested.” They stared at me a moment before chugging those, too. Then they stood catatonic, looking like wax museum mannequins with a small collection of crumbled energy drink cans littering the floor near their feet.
"Are you two okay?" I asked.
"I might be telepathic," Baz said. I sighed and pushed the cart towards the water aisle. They shuffled behind me, their entire bodies shaking violently as they went.
"I’m having a heart attack," Nemo said nervously, his eyes jerking back and forth, sweeping the grocery store.
"Have you ever had caffeine … or sugar? Also, can you put some water in the cart before your heart stops?" I asked. He lifted a couple of 48 packs of bottles and dropped them on top of the bread, smashing it all.
I stared at it, then decided I didn't care and moved towards the self-checkout. I was beginning to realize that, maybe, we weren’t going to make it out of this.
I blew out a breath and tried to ground myself.
It'd be smart to get some food for myself, too.
I didn't want to. I wanted blood. That was why I was going to get these two fat on smashed bread and then break open their veins for a snack.
All the people near the checkout were making my developing migraine worse. The smell of barely contained human blood teased me relentlessly. The registers beeped in mismatched unison, stabbing at my brain. It was getting hard to think. I needed out of here.
On autopilot, I went through the motions of checking out while waiting for Orson to arrive.
"They're all looking at me," Baz hissed, grabbing hold of my arm tightly with both hands.
"You don't know that. They could be looking at him," I said, throwing a thumb over my shoulder at Nemo.
"Why would they look at me? He's the freak wearing a mask," Nemo dismissed.
"You aren't wearing a shirt," I said, manually scanning a smashed bread loaf.
"There was blood all over it," Nemo said with a shrug. A man walked by us with a bag of food, and upon hearing Nemo, he tripped over his own feet and landed sprawled out on the floor. He popped back up, looked at us with wide eyes, and then scrambled from the store without the peanut butter that had rolled from his bag. We’d definitely overstayed our welcome. Where was Orson?