3 | Mike
Mike
Ifollow my boyfriend as he drives in front of me on his own motorcycle along the familiar path that leads to our favorite takeout place, like every night since we moved to this town.
We just had one of our little games, and I am still pumped with adrenaline.
I can’t wait to get home. I crave good food, a shower, and a good fuck, which I am pretty sure Nathan will be more than happy to provide.
This man never denies me anything. Even if he tried, sex wouldn’t be on the list of things he is capable of avoiding.
He is just as obsessed with the act as I am.
My cousin is driving behind us; he honks once before turning left onto the highway leading to the next town.
He is on a task of his own while we get some time alone to recharge, among other things—much-needed alone time for both sides, if you ask me.
We need time to be just us, and Liam needs some time to process after the hunt.
His detail-obsessed mind needs to make sure everything is by the rules he himself placed years ago to ensure our safety.
I doubt half of those rules are useful, but he insists, and I am not going to deny him the opportunity for some peace of mind.
God knows he needs it. The man is driven by guilt.
He tortures himself so much every day of his life, yet in the next game we play, he still hops on that damn motorcycle of his and hunts a new woman beside us each time.
I wonder sometimes how his brain works. Then I remember I don’t really care.
As long as he is by my side, I don’t give a fuck why he stays.
He is the only family I have left, other than my loving partner, of course, and I refuse to allow him the luxury of leaving me.
So if he needs to obsess over every fucking detail in order to feel at peace with what we are doing, so be it. I don’t care.
It takes us only five minutes to get to the takeout place we have chosen as our favorite in this little town.
Everything is so close that it's getting annoying.
I am ready to leave already, and it seems like yesterday that we moved here.
Lately, every town we visit seems more boring than the one before it.
Life itself feels like it's standing still—as if we are frozen in a loop, doomed to an eternity of blood and terror. Not that I care. It’s not my blood that is getting spilled, and I am more than happy to spill theirs.
I am starting to wonder if, eventually, the hunts will stop satisfying me, and I will need to find another way to cope with the darkness that clings to my soul.
A problem for another day, I remind myself as I park my bike next to Nate’s.
He has already walked inside and is looking at the menu, even though we always order the same thing.
In every town we have been to, in every burger place we have visited, he always gets a cheeseburger with extra pickles, fries, and a strawberry milkshake. He has been getting the same thing since he was seventeen, when we would sneak around on little dates, living in our small hometown.
Both in the closet back then, we would pretend to be friends while holding hands under the table and experiencing stolen kisses in dark alleys.
We always picked food from a burger place we used to love and would sneak into his house before Liam and I even lived there.
We loved staying hidden from the world while eating good food and watching old movies.
Even though we never actually admitted the nature of our relationship to anyone but Liam, I am pretty sure his parents always knew, or at least suspected, but they never said anything.
Nate himself never actually came out to them—a choice I have always respected.
I never cared who knew, anyway. It’s none of their business who I fuck or who fucks me. Why would they care to begin with?
Sexuality is weird sometimes. I know what I like, and Nathan seems to know as well.
Our relationship is clear enough, even though we haven’t ever talked about labels, and I am pretty sure we don’t need to.
There have been times when women joined us.
We are both into them, but find each other more interesting.
We have never had another man join, and I doubt we will.
We don’t need another dick to be satisfied.
A pussy is different, but another dick will complicate things too much.
Neither of us is about complications. That’s what brings us together: the simplicity of our lifestyle.
The routine we have chosen, even if it’s unconventional to most people.
It works for us. It doesn’t need to work for anyone else.
As predicted, he orders his burger, and I order the same, minus the milkshake.
I ask for a soda instead, and he looks at me like I am the weird one, even though I get the same thing every time, just as he does.
We are both creatures of habit, and even though it has been years since we started dating, we still give each other trouble over our taste in food.
And our taste in movies. Sometimes in music.
It’s our way of keeping the spark between us alive. A little banter, if you will.
Nate always complains about my taste in movies, and I complain about his taste in music. I always make fun of him for his milkshakes, but I dip my fries in them, and he pouts when I do. Small things that only the two of us share—habits hidden in plain sight that bond us together.
We pick up our food and walk back to our bikes. I take the bag with my food, and he takes his as we both ride back to the house we have been renting for a little more than two weeks. Liam won’t be back for hours, and the house is now silent, waiting for us.
It takes only ten minutes before we park in the front yard, and I find myself following Nate inside our house. Everything is so damn close in this town. My cousin’s dog, the only living creature other than us in this house, lifts his head but completely ignores us, going back to sleep.
This dog only reacts to Liam, and I chuckle before I speak to him in a sarcastic tone: “Hello to you too, buddy. Glad to know you care whether we return or not.”
The dog clearly ignores me, and Nate shakes his head in disapproval of my grudge against the poor animal.
“You are crazy, you know that, right?” He says, laughing.
I wink at him before I reply, “Of course I know; that's why you love me, though.”
He doesn’t say anything else. Silence falls between us as we walk to the living room, and he removes his leather jacket.
He places it carefully on the couch, even though I am pretty sure it has more blood on it than my clothes do, since he was closer to the victim this time.
I made sure not to get close enough when I shot her.
I have very few clothes that have remained clean, and I refuse to do laundry this early in the week.
He sits in his usual seat, and I plop myself on the floor next to him.
We set the bags on the table in front of the couch before opening our food, spreading it on the living room table.
I steal a French fry from his side of the spread, earning a glare when I dip it in his milkshake.
But instead of complaining about it, something else leaves his mouth.
“It's four women with tonight's hunt,” he informs me, and I know what this is about before he continues. He is about to say it is time to move to a new town. We have been reaching the limit faster in each town lately. I agree with him this time; I am ready to leave. However, I am also eager to see what happens if we go over the limit. Nothing bad has happened in the ten years we've been hunting, and I refuse to believe Liam’s rules are what keep us free. I believe it’s luck and skill. We are just too good at what we do. No one has noticed because no one has seen us do it, and no one ever will. On that front, I agree Liam’s rules are good.
But I refuse to believe the pesky little limit he and Nathan have set is doing any good.
I take a bite of my burger and mumble back at him with my mouth still full of food, “I am pretty sure nothing will happen if we go over the limit for once.”
He is not happy about my statement, but he chooses not to challenge me tonight.
Smart man. Maybe that’s why our relationship has survived all these years.
The fact that this man knows when not to challenge me is a talent in its own right.
It’s a unique ability only he has, because everyone else in this fucking world, including my cousin, seems to ignore how dangerous I can be.
But Nathan knows, and he chooses not to witness that side of me.
“Yeah, maybe you are right,” he responds and takes a bite of his food.
I open my laptop and search for my favorite TV show.
He hates that show. I click play and start pretending to focus on the episode, even though I am only focusing on him.
I observe his reactions out of the corner of my eye, waiting for his next movement, his next words.
But they never come. He doesn’t say anything else, knowing this is my way of telling him the conversation has ended.
And I don’t say anything else because my point was clear.
I don’t wish to leave this town yet, and I have the intention of challenging the limit rule soon, with their agreement or not.
Life is too short to play by rules other people have placed upon us.
Besides, what makes something truly right or wrong, if not our own perception?
Nathan’s phone vibrates halfway through the episode, and I watch as he checks his messages.
“Liam has been stopped by a police officer,” he informs me.
He doesn’t respond to the message; he sets his phone down on the couch with the screen facing the fabric, and we both remain silent for the whole ten minutes it takes before the next text from Liam arrives.
The episode on the laptop screen continues as we wait, until the new message arrives and we are finally able to breathe again.
He opens the message and turns to me. “All good; he ditched them.”
A sense of relief immediately washes over me.
Maybe the rules are good, after all. Maybe this was a sign not to break them.
I will admit, I couldn’t care less if I got caught, but I would hate for my cousin to go down for it.
He is the least evil of all three of us.
I would do anything to protect him, and for a long time, I did.