Page 88 of Burn Bag

“What are you doing?”

“I thought…you said I should always have a snack.”

He huffed out a laugh, “Your own. This is mine. I don’t share.”

Thank God, because the thought of eating Funyuns was not at all appealing. “Okay, then.”

“Let’s vamoose! We have things to do and musicals to watch!”

The door slammed as he jumped out, but I was even more confused now than I was before. “Wait!” I shouted, getting out and rushing to catch up to him. “I thought we were?—”

He spun around, and I stumbled, halting in my tracks immediately. “What was rule number one?”

“Um…always listen to you?”

“Precisely. How can you possibly understand how to throw knives accurately if you don’t watch a musical?”

I felt like this was some kind of trick question, but before I could answer, he strode forward and led me inside. “Great, Daphne. Seriously, let’s follow the crazy man inside to watch musicals and learn to throw knives,” I muttered to myself.

But I went anyway. I had always been incapable of telling people no when I thought I might offend them, and this seemed like one of those times. We wandered through the labyrinth of hallways below ground until we came to a room that had a massive bed and a huge TV on the wall. It was amazing.

“Take a seat, my lady.”

“On the bed?”

Again, he burst out laughing. “Of course, on the bed! You can’t watch fun movies in discomfort! Ooh, but before you do, you’ll need some snacks. I already told you Funyuns were off limits, but there are some other snacks in the mini fridge.”

When I didn’t immediately move, he motioned me over to the corner of the room. I went along with it because, why not? But when I opened the door, I wished I hadn’t. There were some curiously odd-looking jars in the fridge, none of which at all appealed to me or mademe want to ask what was inside. There wasn’t even a Diet Coke in sight. Just some really weird bottles of what looked like homemade shakes.

“Uh…you know, I think I’m good,” I said, shutting the door and turning back to him.

Sighing, he nodded. “Alright, just this once, I’ll share with you, but that’s only because you’re new to this place.” He motioned me over to a cabinet and opened it, carefully pulling out another bag of Funyuns.

“Oh, I don’t think?—”

“Trust me,” he said, shoving it against my chest. “Just one and you won’t be able to stop.”

He shoved a bag in my face, then his brows pinched and he pulled out a second, and then a third. “Just to be on the safe side.”

I carried the bags over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and placing the bags between us. This had to be the weirdest day I’d ever had, and that was saying something, considering what I had done in recent weeks.

“What are we watching?” I asked as I got comfortable.

Fox was flipping through the channels, bouncing slightly as he searched a catalog on the TV of only musicals. Didn’t the man watch anything else?

“Normally, I introduce women toThe Phantom Of The OperaorOklahomafirst, but I have a feeling we need to go another route. How do you feel about Fred Astaire?”

“Who?”

He sighed heavily. “It’s just as I thought. We have a lot of work to do. I’m not sure we’ll even get to our lesson today. Hold on, kitten. You’re in for a world of magic and singing.”

I was exhausted.Thoroughly and utterly, mind-numbingly tired. But my body felt amazing. If it wasn’t for the naps I took while watching hours and hours of musicals today, I never would have been prepared for the sheer exhaustion of throwing knives well into the night.

“Alright, now, adjust your grip just a smidge.”

I did as he asked, keeping my eyes on the target.

“Now, remember that number Fred did with Ginger where he jumped over the fence?”

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