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“Don’t kill it!” I hear Sully’s voice from the stall.

“Don’t care about your Steve Irwin oath!” Lori hisses, forming a cross with his index fingers to point them at the spider. “It’s a mutant creature. He’ll bite me, but instead of turning into Spider-Man, I’ll become an incubator for his slimy, rotten eggs.”

“I’m feeling sick,” I murmur, as Sully comes out, running an exasperated hand through his dark hair.

“It’s the size of a nickel,” Sully scolds him, lifting the piece of toilet paper he’s holding.

“I’ll just die of fright then. No biggie, you tosser!” Lori keeps complaining. “I’ve got goosebumps all over me.”

“It’s called horripilation, the bristling from fear or cold. The adrenaline stimulates your tiny muscles to pull on the roots of your hairs, making them stand out from your skin. That distorts the skin, causing bumps to form,” I try to distract him.

Sully nods as he finally catches the spider in the toilet paper. “Charles Darwin once investigated goose bumps by scaring zoo animals with a stuffed snake.”

“Don’t try to razzle-dazzle me with useless facts; action counts. Let’s put the fun in funeral and flush the eight-eyed monster down the toilet!”

“How is that fun?” Sully asks with a serious expression.

“And why do you always want to flush things?” He wanted to do the same to Albert E.

“Watching the alien drowning in filthy toilet water until it is sucked the fuck out of here…fun. Seeing the disapproval on your faces…boring.”

“It would be even more fun when he comes back up and bites your ass!” Sully takes the spider near the small window and gently shakes the toilet paper until it crawls outside.

“Your words flew inside my ear, my brain feigned processing, I let them go out of the other ear, and poof, forgotten.” He flips Sully off.

“Sari, you try telling him a little spider is not going to kill him.”

“It’s a phobia, Lori. I think you can overcome it if you try,” I gently explain. He dismounts me, making me wince again whenhis arm rubs over my inflamed nipple—Uri sucked on it until I screamed his name.

“Says the guy who left his apartment for a bunch of little mice.” Lori scoffs at me.

“They were rats,” I remind him, and technically Uri was the one who insisted on me moving out.

“I mean you have one as a pet, and your manipulative as fuck boyfriend released those rats in the first place, so I’m sure they didn’t carry any disea—” Lori abruptly stops talking as I spin my head his way.

“What did you just say?” I breathe out, while his face fills with an emotion I’ve never seen on him: guilt.

“Fuck!” Sully cusses, looking wide-eyed at Lori and then me.

“You said Uri infested my apartment with rats.” I grit my teeth as I spit the words out. It can’t be true, can it?

“The building…not the apartment,” Lori spills.Oh my God.

“Stop talking.” Sully moves a hand over his face.

“Why? Why would Uri…? To force me to move in with him.” To keep a close eye on me. He even wanted me to sell it. An apartment he didn’t want me to buy in the first place.

“Come on, Angel. Didn’t you suspect anything?” Lori asks. “I mean, it wasn’t the first time Uri… Okay, those three glasses of margarita mixed with the spider assault might have broken my brain.”

Not the first time?

“It was broken already,” Sully mutters.

“What else did he do? Lori, tell me now!” I demand.

“Sheesh, you’re scary when you get all stern.” He takes a step back.

“What is going on?” Ollie walks into the bathroom with a frown on his face. Can he feel the heaviness in the room? “What the hell are you all doing in the bathroom?”