Some Secrets Should Stay Secrets

Chapter 8

PJ sighed lowly and decided to say fuck it. So, slowly he let himself in the house, it being the same way as it was in the morning. The only difference was that Fresh's bag was lazily tossed onto his couch.

So the guy had been there. Maybe not for long.

Gulping lightly, he closed the door behind him. He really had a bad feeling about this...

Being careful, he walked around the ground floor.

He didn't like what he saw.

The bathroom there barely had anything for normal living. The living room was bland-but he already knew that- and the kitchen was barren, only housing half a loaf of bread and a small carton of OJ along with an empty box of granola bars.

Moving upstairs, he couldn't help but to wince.

The bathroom up there had nothing in it, the spare bedrooms were completely empty of everything, and the last bedroom was locked.

PJ really didn't like how the nerd was living.  Were they really living paycheck to paycheck? Just barely surviving?

Suddenly the doorbell went off.

Panic surged through the ink skeleton, yet he pushed it down and swiftly made his way back to the front door.

Opening it, he was greeted with a small group of men in high class business suits.

Each of them smiled at the jock like he was some kind of kid, or idiot. Maybe both. Their eyes were shifty too...

"Yeah, can I help you?" The tall skeleton's voice gave nothing away, acting casual.

"Yes, we're looking for a white skeleton about this tall." The oldest looking man raised a hand around the height of Fresh. "He usually wears bright colors and talks as though he's from the 90's or something." There was a joking tone to his voice.

PJ rose an eyebrow. He didn't know anyone who dressed or talked like that.

"Sorry, never seen nor heard of them." The ink skeleton leaned against the door frame, pulling the door closer to him. He didn't like the way their eyes shifted.

"Really? Um... They might respond to the name Fresh, Queen, or Thomas. Ring any bells?" The man tried again, his mouth twitching in almost a sadistic smirk.

The black skeleton's face twisted in both confusion and disgust.

"Who the hell would name their kid Fresh? That's ripe for the teasing." He commented, snickering easily. Who the hell were these guys? "But no- wait! I do know a Thomas! Are you looking for Thomas Rivers? He's maybe a few inches taller than what you described and he wears pretty old clothing, but nothing brightly colored."

The old man grimaced, shaking his head. His smirk was finally gone.

"No... We're looking for someone whose last name is Fukai or Crayon." The man tried again.

More snickering left the ink skeleton, an amused smile forming on his lips.

"Crayon?" He shook his head, that smile only growing. "Wow, that kid must be bullied. Sorry, never heard of either. I think I'd remember some Japanese sounding name or something like that." He waved a hand dismissively. "Anything else?"

PJ laid his head on the frame, his grin dying down to a small smirk.

The men though lost their perverted smiles, theirs twisting in anger, disgust and annoyance. It was the leader of the group that had the jock worried though... He looked calm and oddly okay.

"Right. Sorry for disturbing you. We're just part of the Witness Protection Program and we wanted to make sure that everything is going okay and-"

"Wow, whoa! Uh..." PJ gave them a look of shock and discomfort, his eyes shifting left and right. "You really might have the wrong house. I seriously have no clue who this Thomas Queen guy is." The dark monster placed his hands in front of him.

"Really? Then why are you in such an old house like this? With a dead lawn?" The man raised an eyebrow, silently smirking like he caught the boy.

"This is my Aunt's place. She's out of state and wanted someone she could trust to watch her house. I may be a jock, but I don't throw parties." He shook his head, still looking extremely uncomfortable.

"What about the lawn?" One of the other men asked, he looked to be the youngest out of the whole group.

The boy scoffed, leaning out a bit to look at it.

"My Aunt sucks at setting up her sprinklers, and since it hasn't rained in a bit..." He allowed the men to fill in the blanks.

"The house?" Another man questioned, his voice deep and gruffy, like he smoked a lot.

"She bought it almost a year ago, she's trying to settle some debts or something like that. I don't know why she hasn't fixed the house up, I'm honestly thinking of doing it for her." The teen paused, lightly drumming his fingers on the wood of the frame. "Do you think she'll like it?" He questioned.

The men looked out of place now. The question made them shift their feet a bit.

"I guess so... Not having to worry about a messy house..." The older man coughed lightly into a meaty hand before moving it to fix his black tie. "Are you sure you haven't seen a 90's obsessed person around?" He tried again, puffing his chest out a bit.

"Actually..." The dark monster stepped aside, pulling the door back with him, revealing the piles of 90's and 80's CD's and gaming. "My Aunt is an absolute freak about it. Reminiscing the "good ol' days"." PJ scoffed, rolling his eyes before taking his position from before. "But you said you were looking for a male, yes?"

The old man gave a bitter smile, nodding his fat head.

"Yes, but it seems we have the wrong address... I'm so sorry for intruding on your time... We'll be on our way." The man gave a small bow of his head before they all quickly left in some fancy looking SUV.

The jock calmly closed the front door before sighing heavily, his soul silently racing in his chest. Damn, he didn't know he could lie like that! He's never lied so smoothly before. Usually he'd clam up half way and just start stuttering and shifting uncomfortably... How did he not do that!

Taking a deep breath, he held it for a minute, leaning his head back. Closing his eyes, he released his breath.

He had to. Those guys were shady looking. Telling a random person they were part of the Witness Protection Program? That should be against protocol or something... They were too reckless to be there, and the way their eyes shifted.

No, he lied like that because he knew he couldn't get caught... If he did, it most likely wouldn't just be Fresh who would get hurt... 

Seem's this was unpublished?