Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
T he garland consisted of black and orange plastic strips tightly wrapped around flexible wire, with purple and orange twinkling lights twisted around it. At first look, Cody thought they were festive, and would be a nice touch to the downtown business district. But after wrapping two dozen streetlight poles, he was pretty much over them. They’d been provided a good number of black zip ties which they used to keep the garland evenly spaced along the poles, Cody securing the upper ones and Demmy the lower. By the time they’d tightened the last tie, the sun was already low in the sky, and Cody was tired of Halloween before the damn holiday had even come around.
“You were better with the bucket this time,” Cody said as he drove them back to the DPW garage. “Not as jerky.”
“Thanks.” Demmy rolled his head in a circle.
“Tired?”
“Yeah. And a little achy from standing in the truck bed all day looking up at you working. How are you doing?”
Cody flexed his fingers. “My hands are kind of stiff from those damn zip ties.”
Demmy copied his flexing. “Mine are too. Is this what getting old feels like?”
“We’re in our early thirties. I refuse to acknowledge it.”
“Our early thirties feels like everyone else’s late fifties.”
“Everyone else hasn’t been bitten by a werewolf or a zombie,” Cody said.
“Valid point.”
Pete was pulling out of the lot on his motorcycle when Cody pulled in. He didn’t return Cody’s wave, just opened up the throttle and roared off down the road, a woman sing/screaming something about God’s love from the speaker.
“And off goes Shrieky Pete, saving the rest of us with his ear-piercing praise music,” Cody said.
“I feel decidedly more saved already.”
After clocking out, they decided to go home for a simple dinner of canned soup and sandwiches. The sun was slowly edging behind the trees, like a guest trying to escape a talkative party host. The days were getting shorter, and even though it was a week until Halloween and the weather was good, Cody was already turning toward hibernation mode. He dreaded what kinds of DPW jobs they’d be assigned in the dead of winter.
Once home, Demmy went out back to check on Trevor, and Cody opened two cans of soup, emptied them into pots, placing them on burners he left off. He got in the shower and was surprised a few minutes later when he heard Demmy open the door.
“Okay for me to join you?”
Cody pulled back the shower curtain to display his already rising interest. “We took a vote, and your admission has been approved.”
Demmy was already naked, and showing some major interest himself as he laughed and stepped into the tub. They turned a few times, both of them getting wet as they kissed and touched. Cody slid his hands over the familiar curves of Demmy’s body, pressing and tweaking all the pleasure points he’d learned through the years. Cody wrapped a big, soapy hand around both of their cocks. As he stroked, he bent slightly and Demmy rose up on his toes to meet him for an open-mouthed kiss.
It didn’t take long. When Cody wanted to, he could finish himself and Demmy off in a matter of minutes. Demmy gasped up into his mouth, his thigh muscles trembling. His cock bucked in Cody’s grip, and the warm, thick splash of his release joined the water trickling between them.
“Love you,” Demmy whispered as they continued to kiss.
“Love you,” Cody managed. “So fucking much.”
He came with a gasping grunt. As he squeezed out the last of it, a shudder ran through him.
Demmy took a step back and smiled as he placed his hand against Cody’s cheek. “Thanks.”
Cody gave him another quick kiss. “I aim to please.”
“You’ve got your aim down all right,” Demmy said, eying the mess on his belly.
They cleaned each other up, and once they’d shut off the water and pulled back the curtain, Demmy made a face. “We forgot towels.”
“Maybe Trevor will get them for us.” Cody cleared his throat and called, “Trevor! Get us towels!”
Demmy laughed and gently slapped Cody’s wet ass cheek. He stepped out of the shower and, looking more adorable than anyone had a right to, hurried on tiptoes to the linen closet in the hall. He returned with a large fluffy towel for himself and a small hand towel he offered to Cody with a smirk.
“You expect me to be able to dry off all this manliness…” Cody waved a hand up and down his body. “With this?”
“I wouldn’t mind watching that.”
Cody snatched the small towel and draped it over his dick. He stepped out of the tub, the towel swinging before him as he left the bathroom. Opening the linen closet, he grabbed a bath towel for himself and flung the hand towel to the floor.
“I was right,” Demmy said, drying his arms and chest. “I didn’t mind watching that.”
“I feel cheap and sullied.” Cody draped the towel around his neck. “I am a respectable member of the Parson’s Hollow DPW.”
Demmy leered, looking him up and down. “Yeah you are.”
Cody feigned offense and stomped off to the bedroom.
After they’d both gotten dressed, they made sandwiches and settled in at the dining room table, their soup steaming in bowls. They talked a bit about the garland and the guys at the garage, then Trevor and his adorable habits.
“Hey, did you listen to Jugs’s voicemail from yesterday?” Demmy asked.
“Oh, yeah. He was checking in. He’s been part-timing it at the vet clinic where Aggie works. Sounds like it’s okay, but he’s getting the feeling she’d rather he found something else.”
“Not everyone can work together so well.” Demmy smiled. “Guess we’re lucky.”
“Yes, you are.” Cody grinned at Demmy’s sour look.
They were both lucky, and he knew it. It had been two months since the last monster case, and he was cautiously hopeful they’d be able to get through the rest of the year without something terrifying try to kill them.
“You know, I’m still thinking about that deer we picked up yesterday.”
And, just like that, Cody’s life could change in an instant. He lifted the bowl and drank down the broth, then pushed back his chair. “I haven’t. It was roadkill. We cleaned it up.”
He carried his dishes to the sink. Demmy followed, still talking.
“Yeah, I know that. But those bite marks were weird.”
“We can’t be sure they were bite marks.”
“We can be pretty sure they were bite marks, because we looked at them.”
Cody rinsed out his bowl but left it in the sink. “Yeah, well, it was a dead deer, okay? Let’s leave it at that. I’m going to go over and visit my grandma.”
“Oh, okay. Want me to go with you?”
“No, that’s all right. I’m sure you have stuff here you want to do. I won’t be long.”
Cody gave him a quick kiss, grabbed his keys and wallet, and practically ran out the door. A part of him felt bad for the quick escape, but another, larger part of him wanted no part of a longer conversation about that topic.
Felicia was ninety-nine years old and a resident of Parson’s Pines Nursing and Convalescent Home of Serenity. She was more confused than not these days, but sometimes she still recognized him. Most often, though, she thought he was either her long dead husband, Everly, or someone named Clarence. He had no idea who Clarence might be, but as long as she was happy to see him, Cody would answer to the name.
During the summer, a shape-shifting creature called a nix had made itself look like Cody and convinced Felicia to leave the safety of the nursing home. It had lured her as far as the shoulder of the road before Lucia Durant, sheriff’s deputy and one of Cody’s many ex-girlfriends, happened to pass by and pick her up. The incident had frightened his grandmother, and she’d been afraid of him for a few weeks after the incident. That had been the worst part of the whole experience, other than the people the nix had drowned out at Parson’s Pond. These days, she seemed to be more comfortable with him, for which he was grateful.
Fucking monsters.
Cody pulled into a parking space outside the nursing home and sat for a moment with his hands hanging over the steering wheel. He stared at the stand of pine trees that bordered the lot and extended around the back of the single level red brick building. He should call or text Demmy and apologize. He hadn’t needed to be so short with him, but that damn brain of Demmy’s just wasn’t able to stop trying to find monsters in everyday things.
Although Cody had wondered himself why that deer hadn’t shown any other physical trauma except those marks on its neck. And what might be big or mean enough to bring down an animal that size without any other signs of struggle.
But the difference between his wondering and Demmy’s was that Cody didn’t want to sprint off into the woods at night and try to find the fucking thing.
It would be best for him to wait and call Demmy on the drive home. He wasn’t in the best headspace right now.
He got out of the truck and headed for the doors. The smell of pine sap and leaf mold came to him on the breeze, along with a hint of exhaust from passing vehicles out on Route 118. As he approached the entrance, the doors parted and two men came outside, maneuvering a gurney with a body inside a black bag. The light above the door shone along the surface, making it look like a big blob of motor oil. A desperate, sinking feeling opened up inside him, and Cody hurried into the building, approaching a nurse named Lacey at the front desk.
“Looks like you lost someone.”
“Hi, Cody. Yeah, Faye Oslin passed away sometime after lunch. Candace found her this evening during rounds. Third one she’s found this week, poor thing.”
“Oh, wow, three this week?”
“It goes like that sometimes.”
Cody shook his head. “I can’t believe Faye is gone. I just saw her earlier this week, and she was looking good.”
“They can do that. Be right as rain, and then a day or two later, they’re just gone.”
“Life goes fast, doesn’t it?” Cody said quietly.
“It surely does.” Lacey smiled up at him. “In better news, your grandma’s been asking for you today. By name.”
“Really? Well, this week might end on a better note than I thought.”
Cody walked down the hall to his grandmother’s room and paused in the doorway to observe her. The lamps in the room were on, casting warm yellow light. Felicia sat in her chair, a blanket across her legs and her hands folded in her lap. She was looking into the darkness outside the window, her expression calm. From his vantage point, Cody could see the change in her from this summer: her wrists were thinner, cheekbones more pronounced. Her hair had lost its shine and body the past year as well, and the nurses now simply brushed it back from her forehead instead of having it styled.
Was this what everyone came to, this slow degeneration? How would he and Demmy change? Who would come to visit them once they had to go into a place like Parson’s Pines?
His phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him out of his thoughts. It buzzed again—an incoming call—and Felicia turned to look at him as Cody pulled out his phone and silenced it without looking at the name.
“Who’s that?” Felicia said, her forehead creasing as she frowned.
“It’s me, Grandma. It’s Cody.” He entered the room and switched on another lamp by her bed before approaching her.
“Cody?”
The creases deepened as she studied him. She was concentrating hard, most likely searching for his identity inside her confused and scattered memories. He hated these moments, more for her than him. He couldn’t imagine being so lost inside yourself that you didn’t know the people who loved you. The loneliness and fear must build in her a little more every day.
Pulling up a straight back chair, he sat and reached out to take her hands. The skin was soft and thin, the bones right beneath the surface. A few of her fingers bent near the ends due to arthritis. She had been a skilled seamstress as long as he’d known her, and had altered pants and shirts for Cody and his four brothers as they’d grown up.
“I’m your grandson, Cody. I’m Greg’s son.”
She smiled. “Greg was my husband.”
“Well, no…” He stopped, recalling what a social worker told him not long ago about simply agreeing with her. If he corrected her, no matter how gently he did it, he could upset her and cause her mood to plummet in a moment. With a smile, he said, “Sure, yes. Greg was your husband.”
Felicia’s expression brightened even more. “Have you spoken to him lately?”
“No, not lately. I do need to call him.” He leaned in a bit, careful not to move too far into her personal space. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, fine. Just fine.” She looked out the window at the darkness looking back in at them. “The nurses steal my candy and make me take a shower twice a week.”
“They sound pretty tough.”
“There’s one who’s mean. She treats me mean. But I won’t let her in my room.”
“Oh?” Cody’s phone buzzed again, another call. He released his grandmother’s hands and looked at the display. It was Demmy. “Give me just one minute, Grandma. I need to take this call, okay?”
“She tries to get in my room, but I keep telling her no.”
“I don’t blame you. Hold on.” He accepted the call and stood up, heading for the hallway. “Hi there.”
“Hi. Sorry to interrupt your visit.”
“It’s okay. Today my father is her husband, so we’re getting closer to the right kind of relationships, but still a bit off.”
“I know it’s hard for you. You’re so good to keep visiting her so often.”
Cody looked back in the room. The lamplight gave the few furnishings a warm glow and, coupled with the night outside, made mirrors of the windows. Felicia was talking quietly to her reflection in the glass. “She deserves it. She’s been a good grandmother.”
“Well, I hate to tell you this, but John called us in.”
“What?” Cody groaned and lowered his voice as he stepped away from his grandmother’s door. “It’s Friday evening. What’s going on? Did we twist the garland wrong or something?”
Demmy chuckled. “No, he didn’t say anything about the garland. There’s a water main break on the north side of town. They need us to help out.”
“Water main break? Sheesh.” Cody blew out a breath. “We’d better get overtime for this.”
“He said we will. It’s part of the city’s emergency repair budget or something.”
“Fancy way of saying rainy day fund.”
“Pretty much.”
“Okay, I’ll say goodbye to Grandma and come back to the house. Sounds like this is going to be messy.”
“Yeah, guess we’ll need another shower when we’re done.”
Cody smiled and lowered his voice to a deep whisper. “You’re making me feel all cheap and wanton.”
“And I know you like that.”
Relief swept through Cody that his abrupt departure from the house hadn’t seemed to cause an issue between them. “You know me so well. See you soon.”
The water had been shut off by the time Cody and Demmy arrived at the site, but evidence of the break was everywhere. Mud covered the street, and the force of the water had left cracks in the asphalt. Work lights on stands had been set up around the section of road, powered by a generator chugging and burping along in the back of a DPW pickup. Shrieky Pete was operating a jackhammer to break up the asphalt, and Cody felt more than a little uneasy at the sight. He hoped the praise music had satisfied Pete’s guardian angel. And those looking after the rest of them.
This area of homes was north of Main Street, between the downtown district and the start of farmland. Most people referred to this part of town as Orchardville because of the street names. The street they were working on was Apple, and for six blocks in either direction the names were similar: Cherry, Orange, Peach, Fig, and Pear. These roads were perpendicular to Main Street and a few were a straight shot to Route 125, the other county road that ran parallel to and a few miles north of 118.
“Well, finally,” John the Bastard said over the rattle of the jackhammer as they walked up. “You stop for a nap?”
“Yeah, I wanted to be fresh and peppy for you,” Cody said with a tight smile.
John squinted through one eye. “You should have slept longer.”
It was hard to hear over the racket of the jackhammer, but Cody could have sworn he heard Demmy laugh. Traitor.
“Where can we help, John?” Demmy said.
John gestured for them to follow him. They plodded through water and mud and bits of asphalt flung up by the jackhammer. Stopping at the back of one of the pickups, John reached in and pulled two long poles from the bed. At the top of each was an octagon-shaped double-sided sign. One side was red and stated in large white letters: STOP. The other side was orange and said in large black letters: SLOW. John passed one sign pole to each of them, then rummaged through a box until he found two bright yellow safety vests and a couple of white hard hats, all of which he passed off.
“What do we do with these?” Cody asked, taking the vest and immediately regretting it. The slick material felt damp to the touch, and he hoped like hell it was from all the water in the air and not someone’s extremely overactive sweat glands. He accepted the hard hat as well and tucked it under one arm, pretty sure they were going to need to stop at Parson’s Pharmacy for lice killer on the way home.
“Put the vest and hat on, Princess, and each of you stand at either end of this work site and coordinate letting traffic through since we have half the street blocked by our equipment.”
“Princess?” Cody said.
Demmy jumped into the fray of the conversation, obviously hoping to keep Cody from mouthing off and costing them their jobs.
“We turn the signs the same direction as each other, right?”
“You got it, genius. Keep traffic stopped at one end and moving slowly through at the other. Now get into place, I’ve got to manage this crew.”
John the Bastard stomped back toward the hole steadily being widened by Shrieky Pete.
“What, and I say this with every ounce of the amount of respect John deserves, the fuck?” Cody thumped the pole against the road and held the vest with two fingers away from his body.
“Would you rather be in the middle of it all, covered in mud and soaked with cold water while standing within striking distance of the jackhammer controlled by Shrieky Pete?”
Cody gave Demmy a long look. “No. I’d rather we weren’t called in at all.”
“But here we are.” Demmy put the vest on over his coveralls. He gave the inside of the hard hat a tentative sniff. After a sigh and slight slump of his shoulders, he placed it on his head. Holding the traffic direction sign in one hand, he stood with his back straight and smiled. “How do I look?”
“Hotter than you have any right to.”
“Smooth talker.” Demmy looked past Cody, then turned to look over his own shoulder. “Which end do you want?”
“That is a loaded question.”
He got the stink-eye for that.
“I’m going this way.” Demmy stuck a thumb over his shoulder. “And you can have the other end.”
“That works.”
“See you later.”
Cody watched him walk away. The hat needed to be adjusted down a size or two to fit him properly, and the vest drooped from his shoulders, but Demmy looked incredibly cute in the glare of the work lights. Looking down into his own hat, Cody sneered at the grease and dirt that stained the sizing ring. He warily sniffed the vest, then, sighing, put on the hat before putting his arms through the vest. He forced himself not to contemplate which of the burly members of the DPW team had worn both, since every one of them had questionable hygiene. And that was saying something, because after playing high school football for four years, he’d thought he’d become immune to how gross guys could be. Hell, he could be kind of gross himself.
And yet, the DPW team strived for more.
As he sauntered to the other end of the work site, however, Cody debated with himself as to whether a person’s own level of grossness would always be less disgusting than that of someone else. He decided he had a valid point, and, at the boundary of the work area, he stopped and turned to face back the way he’d come. Demmy was visible on the outer fringe of the work lights, and he gave a small wave that made Cody smile. He waved back.
And then he waited.
A few cars came through in the first hour, and Cody thought he and Demmy did well coordinating their signs. After that, there were fewer cars, and boredom quickly set in. He whistled to himself for a while as he leaned against his traffic sign pole, looking around the neighborhood. He’d never realized the yards were so big in Orchardville. A quick fantasy spun through his mind of him and Demmy living in one of these houses with a larger yard and two bathrooms, neither of which had pink tile and fixtures. But then he felt slightly ungrateful to Amelia, since she was allowing them to live in her house rent free, so he shut the fantasies down pretty quick.
A shadow shifted in the backyard of one of the houses, and Cody stood up straight and squinted. Another shape, this one lower to the ground, moved out from behind the house and stood beside the taller one. Just a man and his dog, out for a walk. No cause for alarm. Just that, from where Cody stood, the dog looked pretty damn big.
Over at the work site, the jackhammer skipped across something—a large rock, maybe, or John the Bastard’s foot—and Pete and John both shouted, grabbing Cody’s attention. Pete stopped the jackhammer, and John chewed him out a bit. Cody looked back at the corner of the house, but both figures were gone. He told himself to stop inventing things, and he looked down the road toward Demmy.
He looked as bored as Cody felt, so he decided to entertain them both. He held the traffic sign pole with both hands and did a couple of squats that were, in his mind, slow and sexy. From this distance, he could just make out Demmy’s smile and the shake of his head. But he didn’t look away.
Yep, Cody still had it.
He did a slow strut around the pole, holding it in one hand and extending his body out to the side. Tipping the hard hat down so it covered more of his face, he did some more squats on the opposite side of the pole, then turned his back and pressed himself against it, one hand above his head and the other just below his butt. Moving slowly—and carefully, since the pole wasn’t secured—Cody slid his ass down the length. His knees protested, but he was glad for the fact that his thighs didn’t shake with the effort. Maybe all that torture with Jordie at Infinite Potential the first part of the year had been worth it.
Too bad Jordie had been drowned by the nix. Even though he’d been an asshole, he’d been a good motivator.
“Bower!”
John the Bastard’s thick, deep voice startled him out of his routine, and he nearly fell on his ass. Cody straightened up and pushed his hard hat back, feeling the heat in his cheeks.
“Yeah, okay.” Cody gave a single wave.
“Quit screwing around and pay attention.” John waved past him before going back to his work.
Cody turned. Five cars were lined up and waiting. He’d been so engrossed in his routine, he hadn’t even noticed them. And, apparently, his sign had been turned to STOP. Maybe the drivers had been enjoying the show. Not that he was that much of an attention whore, but it was nice to be appreciated for what he brought to the work site.
He looked over his shoulder to make sure Demmy’s side of the road was clear, and then he turned his sign to the SLOW side and waved the cars up. Every damn one of them stopped with windows down and handed him a dollar. Every damn one. Well, okay then. He guessed they had all enjoyed the show.
The last car in line was filled with giggling and shrieking high school girls. Three of them in the backseat had their heads together, looking at one phone, and Cody had the sinking feeling they’d gotten video of his routine and were uploading it to TikTok. He hoped to hell the hash tags would be kind.
“All right now,” he said, accepting the dollar and waving them through. “Move along.”
“So hot!” one of the girls screamed out the window. “For an old guy.”
Arrow into his heart.
Old guy?
Old?
Son of a bitch.