Then Simon abruptly shot his finger forward in a determined point. “Don’t you dare stink this place up again!” It felt like an awkward gesture. He’d never wagged his finger at anyone in his life. But it was something Vic’s mother had done to him, or so he’d once told Simon. Simon mimicked it and prayed that his friend was conditioned to quiet down at that gesture.
It worked.
Vic tucked in his jaw and stared at the floor, but it didn’t last long. A moment later his gaze shot up and there was a pinched look to his brows. Worse, there was a rising stench in the air. “I can’t stop it!”
“Yes, you can,” Simon said. He was running out of ways to tell Vic the same thing. And then Alyssa’s voice cut through the air.
“You weren’t born able to speak, Vic. You weren’t potty trained and didn’t know your hand from your ass, but you learned. You formed words, used the toilet, and got control of when your hand and your ass interact.”
Both men shot looks at Alyssa as she strode into the basement. Simon noted that her eyes seemed clear and her shoulders determined. Her hair was back in that tight bun and her expression was hard. But inside, he guessed she was cut to pieces by what her brother had become. Meanwhile, Vic groaned.
“Don’t be a bitch, Lys. My hand and my ass are always in perfect sync.”
She rolled her eyes, but Simon could see relief in the gesture. Vic couldn’t be a monster while he was cracking jokes, right? And even better, the stink seemed to be clearing. A little. Which meant the anger cycle was broken and he had a chance to speak to Vic’s rational mind.
“She’s right that it’s a new body function just like walking and talking. You have to learn how to control it just like you learned—”
“Potty training,” Vic grumbled. “I got it. So when I start getting angry, I need to—”
“Think of the redhead.”
Vic’s brows narrowed. “I thought it was the brunette. You know, the one who took her time.”
Simon held up his hand to stop his friend from saying anything more. He enjoyed a good sexual exploit as much as any man, but he’d never thought of it as a spectator sport. “I just needed you to remember the details of being a man. The body, the feel, the…everything of being a man. That’s what shifted you back to human. And by the way, that’s what healed your injuries.”
Vic touched his cheek, pressing in to the cheekbones. “You beat the crap out of me.”
“You deserved it.” It was a lie. Vic hadn’t been in control. All Simon had needed to do was incapacitate him, not beat him senseless. The only one who had kept it together last night was Alyssa and he admired the hell out of her for that.
Meanwhile Vic shrugged. “Yeah.” He looked at his sister. “Sorry about…” He gestured to the damaged cage. “Everything.”
“You can fix the cage as your apology. You got yourself under control now?”
Vic groaned. “You’re always giving me more work as an apology.”
“’Cause you’re always screwing up.”
“This wasn’t my fault!”
“And yet you’re still responsible for your actions. You still have to face the consequences.”
He growled at his sister. “You’re still a bitch.”
“And you still stink.”
That pulled up him short, and his nostrils flared. So did Simon’s as he tried to compare the air quality to what it had been a moment before. Vic reacted first.
“I do not. That’s old stink.”
Alyssa arched a brow. “So you’ve got it together?”
He held up his hands palms turned outward. “I’m sure.”
“Then I guess you can learn.” She stepped forward and quickly unlocked the cage, swinging the door wide. “Go take a shower and get some clothes on. We’ve got things to do.”
“What things?” Vic asked, belatedly realizing he was standing naked in front of his sister. He tried to casually cover his important bits, but the whole thing looked awkward.
Simon took pity on the man. “We’ll discuss that when you’re showered. Go on. I’m going to figure out a way to fumigate this basement.”
