Before Killing Was Cool ➊ FRERARD

28: Revenge Served Sweet

C h a p t e r | T w e n t y - E i g h t

Present Day - Frank

Gerard and I go back home hand-in-hand and our lips chasing each other. He tells me he's going to get some food and leaves me smiling after him.

Nothing could ever wipe this smile off of my face. I promised him I would make him the happiest person who ever lived but the nice side-effect is that I'm even happier. There's a weight lifted off my shoulders and no longer do I worry about the blood on the sheets, our pains and heartaches. This moment is so good I have to let myself be caught up and consumed in it.

"So you actually did it," Bob's voice comes from the living room, and I wander in to find him with a cigarette on the sofa.

It looks like one of mine but I choose to let that slide. Nothing is spoiling my good mood and he can steal all my cigs, even my favourite Marlboros, if he stays off Gerard's back and supports me. He looks like he doesn't know exactly what he's doing with it, taking the chemicals into his mouth but not inhaling, just sifting them back out through his nose, like he isn't smoking for the nicotine but rather for the dramatic effect.

"Ray will kill you for smoking in here." I say but he only laughs; not usual laughter but the manic type, as if there's something I should be worried about. I choose to ignore it. "And yeah, I did it. He said yes."

"Of course he did," Bob rolls his eyes, "he's blindly in love with you."

What's wrong with that? Love is blindness.

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

He clutches the arm of his seat in unease, taking another pointless drag of his smoke. He loves his tricks and games, I can tell, and I have to admit he's good because I have no idea what he's getting at or what he'll say next.

"You know, Frank, as soon as I heard of your marital plannings," he says, his tone changing to something I can't decipher, "unfortunately, I thought, 'damn it, I'm going to have to do this sooner than I expected'. It's gone too far with you two."

"What are you talking about?" I scoff.

I feel that weird feeling in my stomach again except it's not just butterflies of nervousness or the intense pain of an invisible wound, but images of spiders in my gut spinning their webs and tickling my soul.

He watches for my reaction intently. "Notice that Ray's not around?"

I frown and realise he's right. I haven't seen him.

I was too busy sharing my time with Gerard and he didn't say anything about the curly-haired man either. We just got engaged, technically, and I thought nothing would break us out of that dreamlike state. We've already entered the honeymoon phase and didn't realise who is - or isn't - around us.

Bob puts out his cigarette and says casually, "that's because he's knocked out and tied up in the trunk of my car."

The spiders catch their first flies.

My breath catches in my throat as everything suddenly screams 'danger' at me. I instinctively move toward the door to the kitchen, for a knife, maybe, but mostly to protect Gerard.

He's getting food and has no idea this is happening and I desperately don't want him to, but I promised I would always protect him. I thought it would be from the cops or Ray's judgement or the harsh words on the news, but never from the harm of a person in the house we live in.

"I have to admit, I thought it'd be more of a challenge to get you to trust me." Bob continues, and he pulls out my shotgun from underneath the couch, swinging it over his shoulder. "Now, I don't have to shoot your fiancé to get you in the car, do I?"