Page 17 of Seven+Four

“No, I didn’t!” Raph frowns at him.

“He even used a lame TV drama stunt to draw you away from your messy thoughts.”

“No, he didn’t!” I look at Raph’s unfazed expression, empty eyes, and mouth in a straight line.

“Moccasins bye bye,” he mouths with a wave of his hand. Motherfucker! I point Leslie’s muzzle at his face through the glass wall. He smirks smugly. A round between his eyes will erase that stupid expression off his mug.

“The code, Uri,” Michael exclaims.

Fuuuck! How can Raph be with such a goodie-two-shoes? Yes, we follow the code Linda put down for us, to remind us where the morally gray line we shouldn’t step over, stands. Which means I can’t kill Raph only because he’s a shithead. He needs to turn into an evil shithead for me to do so.

“You’ve become so tedious, professor,” I taunt Michael with a tsk as I lower my gun.

Raph flips me off, and I’m about to repay him in kind when Lori appears, followed by Gabe and Rague, who has a donor hanging from his massive shoulder.

“You know what’s really tedious?” Lori asks; he must have eavesdropped on our conversation. “Your controlling attitude toward Sari. Make up your mind, you stuck-up socio!”

“Go back to hell, Satan’s pet!” I rub a hand over my tired eyes.

“Why would I do that when I can fuck with you lot?” Lori intones in a snarky voice.

Rague enters the FUNS room and lets the donor fall unceremoniously on the floor. It’s the dirty cop who helped cover up my donor’s hunting hobby. “Is he dead?”

Rague replies by pushing his shoe into the donor’s face until I hear a crack.

I set Leslie on the table again and crouch down to check the corpse. It’s still warm, but his chest is curved inward, the black fabric on the torso wet with blood.

“The lawyer? Dead too?”

“Yes,” Lori replies for him, since all Rague is doing is growling and glaring. “What’s left of him is in the kidnapping van.”

Fucking hell.

Another growl. Rague’s face is flushed, veins almost popping on his forehead and arms. He keeps gritting his teeth, his body trembling with uncontrollable anger. Is he having alightred haze episode? It’s happened in the past when he lost his marbles and destroyed everything in his path. Almost killed Rami one time, tried with me as well. Those scientists experimented on his brain when he was imprisoned, fucking him up. These days he can control it…mostly. Better if his husband is near him.

“Where’s Ollie?” I ask, turning toward the glass wall. If he isn’t coming, maybe I can have some more fun.

“Coming,” Michael replies.

Shots suddenly resound inside the room as Rague sinks four bullets inside my donor’s torso. Then he yanks the throwing knife out of the fucker’s eye and starts stabbing the top of his head, creating an even bigger mess. The sound is gag inducing, but I’m blasé about the highest level of gruesome.

“It’s like he’s trying to make a jack-o’-lantern following a Michael Myers tutorial,” I hear Lori whisper.

Nobody says anything else until Rague is done. He needs to vent his inner monster’s fury and although the thought of poking at it comes back, I decide against it. I have stuff to do.

“I think he’s eternally-returned-to-dust dead, amen and all that holy stuff, KKJ,” Lori hazards. I guess Super Model is a better nickname than King Kong Junior.

But fuck, I just came here to have some alone time with my donor. To clear my head and have some fun, not attend one of my family’s annoying shows.

“Is that my throwing knife?” I hear Gabe asking stiffly, his expression flat and blank as he taps away on his phone.

“Fuck off, Gabriz!” Rague finally speaks, addressing Gabe, Bez, and Lori.

“Another ship name?” Michael groans.

“Fine!” Lori grabs Gabe’s forearm. “Gabriz is leaving the third circle of hell, the one for crazy psychos!”

“I’m a sociopath!” Fucking loathe when they lump me together with psychos.

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