Chapter 10 #2
He sighs again and slouches back in his seat like he’s thinking the same thing.
“Seriously, lay off researching serial killers,” Jack mutters to him while gesturing for Bandit to sit, which he does, though he’s still panting excitedly. “You’re getting stupid paranoid.”
“You can’t write a dystopian novel where serial killers are the only people who survived without researching serial killers,” Decker mutters back.
“Bad move, switching away from litRPG,” Lucky says.
“Dumb decision,” Jack agrees. “Keep doing what’s working.”
“Maybe they’ll both work,” Decker shoots back. “Won’t know if I don’t try.”
“Or you’re afraid you’ve peaked and you’re running away.”
“Hi, guys.” Margot—Margie, I remind myself—stops at the edge of our circle, bending to love all over Bandit as she smiles broadly like she wasn’t glaring at me an hour ago. “Have room for one more?”
Lucky leaps up and pulls an extra chair over for her, so she’s across the little circle from me, her back firmly to the door, the dog within reach.
Other than a brief nod, she doesn’t much acknowledge my presence.
Irritating.
No matter who I am and what I know about her, I’d appreciate a little reciprocation to the way I’m distracted by how her soft lavender T-shirt hugs her breasts under a darker purple flannel.
I swallow and make myself look away.
She’s a shark, I remind myself.
With a heart, myself answers back.
Great.
Now I’m arguing with myself in rhyme.
Should’ve stayed home, except I get to show off how I can be places it’s not as easy for her security guy to get into by being here.
A server drops by and takes orders from the three of us who’ve basically just arrived, then disappears to get our drinks and appetizers.
“Did you come straight from work?” Margie asks Lucky once we’re alone again.
“Yeah.”
“He usually does,” Jack says. “Dude’s a workaholic.”
“Like you can talk,” Decker says.
“Hi, kettle,” Jack replies.
Margie—sure, she’s still Margie tonight—smiles more while scratching Bandit’s head, and I wonder if she’s feigning that hunger in her eyes.
Not ruthless hunger.
I want to belong hunger.
Could that honestly be most of what she wants? To have more family? Because hers is shitty but she still believes in the power of genetics making family?
“So all three of you love your jobs and work hard,” she says. “Got it.”
“How’s your job going?” Lucky asks her. “Everyone being cool?”
“Yes. It’s good. Nicer than my last job. Thank you.”
I stifle a snort.
She doesn’t look in my direction, but her shoulders seem to tighten beneath her flannel.
Decker glances at me, then at her. “Heard you ran into a movie star.”
She tucks a strand of dark, curly hair behind her ear, then adjusts her glasses. “That was very unexpected.”
“He’s one of the owners,” Jack tells her, which I’m certain she already knew.
“I didn’t run into the owners much in any of my previous jobs. Nor were they ever famous.”
I don’t react to that lie either.
Mostly.
And even if I did, she’s charging ahead.
“So, again…unexpected. Jack, I didn’t realize when you mentioned it the other day that explosives engineering is a real thing and not a joke?
That sounds dangerous and fascinating. I have this friend back home who’d basically kill me if I didn’t demand to know how often you touch TNT. ”
Lucky winces. “Here we go…”
“Dammit,” Decker adds.
Jack, though, has straightened and is grinning. “I blow shit up all the time.”
Bandit makes another soft woof in agreement.
“He has to do a lot of math and boring stuff to do the blowing up. The math is most of his job,” Decker says.
“But he never talks about that, so we banned him from talking about his job in public for at least like, five straight years,” Lucky tells Margie. “Maybe six or seven at this point.”
“He goes on and on and on,” Decker agrees.
“Because it’s fucking cool,” Jack says.
“I’ve sometimes wished I could blow up a few things some of my exes left behind,” Margie says.
“Oh, we have a potato gun for that,” Lucky says. “Anything you want to destroy, we shove it into a potato and launch it into the mountains.”
“Very cathartic,” Jack agrees.
“Until your neighbor gets pissed that you’re littering,” Decker says.
“Is your neighbor that far away, or is your potato gun a little… impotent?” Margie asks him, sending Lucky and Jack in howls.
“My neighbor’s that annoying,” is Decker’s only response, which makes Margie smile bigger.
“No girlfriends for any of you?” she asks.
“Jack’s fucking Switzerland, but he won’t tell us if that’s her real name or if she’s undercover,” Lucky reports.
Jack flips him off. “We took a vow of bachelorhood. All three of us. No real girlfriends.”
Margie’s brows go up, and I don’t think that’s an act. “Whoa. Really?”
The three brothers share a look, then all three shift their gazes to her.
“We don’t talk about this in public—” Lucky starts.
“And we’re not talking about it now,” Decker mutters.
“Think we should, bro.” Jack tilts his head at Margie. “She might be collateral damage.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Decker replies.
“Two against one here,” Lucky says. “We have to tell her. Jack’s right. It might’ve hit her too.”
I sit straighter.
Margie sits straighter. “Something genetic?” she says quietly.
All three of them shake their heads.
Lucky’s as serious as I’ve ever seen him. Jack’s grim. Decker’s clearly annoyed.
“No, it’s not genetic,” Decker says.
“It’s a curse,” Lucky whispers.
“You met Sabrina?” Jack says. “She doesn’t even know about this.”
“She knows about this and does us the favor of not mentioning it anywhere,” Decker says.
Lucky sweeps a glance around the room and leans in closer. “But she doesn’t know it’s real.”
“You’re…cursed?” Margie whispers.
The three of them share another look, then nod at her.
She blinks once.
I’m doing a little more than blinking. Might involve my lips twitching in a telltale manner and having to clear my throat to keep from having a verbal reaction.
Decker glares at me. “Not funny. It’s fucking real.”
“If any of us ever fall in love, our sibling connection will go kaboom,” Jack says.
Margie opens her mouth, then shuts it again.
Credit where credit is due—I believe this is an honest reaction.
Mine is too.
I’m almost laughing for the first time in—actually, I don’t remember how long.
Decker shoves me. “Don’t make me rewrite your character, asshole.”
Jack and Lucky are leaning so close to Margie that I almost can’t hear what they’re saying. But Jack’s dog has returned to his side, snout on Jack’s knee like he’s saying it’s okay, buddy, I’m here. I got you.
“Back in high school, there was this chick who was Wiccan,” Jack’s saying.
“I thought Wiccans generally did no harm,” Margie murmurs.
“They’re not supposed to, but she was like, still learning,” Lucky says. “And Jack pissed her off.”
“You helped,” Jack replied.
“I walked into a landmine, dude. I didn’t know you were telling her witchcraft isn’t real.”
“Biggest mistake of your life,” Decker says.
“Witchcraft is so real,” Lucky agrees.
Jack winces. “It…is.”
“So you pissed off a witch and she cursed you with having to choose between your brotherhood and finding true love?” Margie says.
“Yes,” all three of them answer together.
Once more, Margie—Margot Merriweather-Brown—does a fish impersonation for a moment, and fuck me if it’s not the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
“So you all—you never date?” she says.
They share a look.
“We all…have fun…on occasion, but never let it get serious,” Lucky finally says.
“Don’t want to risk it,” Jack agrees.
“Fuckin’ right,” Decker says.
“If we didn’t date at all, people would get suspicious,” Lucky adds. “But it’s all good. We’re happy this way.”
“Wow,” she murmurs as Decker and Jack both nod.
“You’ve never been cursed?” I ask her.
She looks me square in the eye. “It would explain a few things, but wouldn’t it for everyone?”
I lift a shoulder.
“I didn’t think it was real,” Jack says, “but then…”
“Then,” Decker and Lucky agree, both nodding.
“It’s definitely real,” Jack concludes.
“And she bought the damn house next to mine,” Decker mutters.
“And she won’t lift the curse,” Lucky adds.
“We’ve asked,” Jack says.
Lucky nods. “She’d probably consider it if Decker would give her the greenhouse, but he’s being stubborn.”
I look at Margie.
She slides an I have no idea what they’re talking about either look at me, then turns back to the triplets. “So you think I got hit with the side blast because it was related to siblinghood?”
“Possible,” Jack says. “You ever had back luck in love?”
Margie does her one-eyed squint. “My best friend just hooked up with my ex, and it was…messy.”
And there she goes telling another lie that’s almost the truth.
The triplets share another look.
“She got hit with the blast,” Lucky says.
“Sorry, Margie,” Jack adds.
I clear my throat. “Did I too?” I deadpan, since they all know about Felice and my stepbrother.
“No, you just have shitty luck,” Decker replies.
Margie chokes on a giggle, then clears her throat. “Maybe I can talk to your neighbor about an uncursing. Since I’m innocent—”
“Are you though?” I ask.
All four of them look at me.
So does the dog.
I pause just long enough to get a look from Margie, then I gesture to my face, where there’s still the barest hint of evidence of how Margie and I met.
My hair has a little more, but I’ve been wearing hats all week to cover it, and I’m about to shave my beard down to scruff to get rid of the purple streaks in it too. “This doesn’t reek of innocence.”
“Wasn’t her fault,” Jack says.
“Agreed. Decker fucked up,” Lucky says.
They both look pointedly at him.
They know he did it on purpose.
Margie undoubtedly knows he did it on purpose too.
“Hey, Margie, are you allergic to macadamias?” Decker says, prompting snorts from his two brothers.
Smooth transition away from a loaded conversation, that was not.
But Margie goes with it. She shakes her head. “No, are you?”