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“Interesting choice. I’ll see if it’s streaming.” Charles disappeared into the other room.
Damon turned his attention back to the house across the street. If he wouldn’t go to jail, he’d set it on fire himself.
No. He wasn’t like that. But it was fun to imagine. Just like beating the crap out of Boone.
The urges weren’t him. Those were the one remaining “gift” from his dad. And if he had to fight them every day for the rest of his life, he would. His mother’s kindness was more a part of him than his dad’s violence would ever be. Plus he was his own person, and he wanted to give Ariana the best.
“I found it,” Charles called from the other room.
Damon stepped away from the window, but a small movement caught his attention across the street. He pressed his nose against the glass and squinted.
Something moved in the shadows near the house.
“You coming?” Charles called.
“Hold on.” Damon didn’t budge.
No more movement.
Maybe he’d imagined it.
Psst. Psst.
The sound of Charles opening the bottles.
Another movement in the shadows.
Damon moved around, trying to get a better look.
“Are you going to make me drink this all by myself?” Charles asked.
“Come look at this.”
Charles came over. “What is it?”
“Do you see anything across the street?”
“No.”
“I keep seeing movement.”
“At Boone and Rita’s?”
“Yeah,” Damon said. “There it is again.”
Charles nudged him out of the way. “Where exactly?”
“To the left, near the bushes.”
“It’s dark out, and one of the street lamps is out. I don’t know how you can see anything.”
“Something is moving over there.”
“I don’t see anything,” Charles said.
“Just wait.”
“The movie would be more exciting.”
