Page 67 of Pure Silence

“No.” Day peeked back over the edge of the couch. “Not since Father died. I didn’t want to. I wanted you, my angel.”

“Me?” Goldie set a casserole dish on the counter. He layered the brussels sprouts and potatoes across the bottom, salting them as he glanced at Day. “But we just met.”

“I wanted someone like you,” Day clarified. “Someone special.”

“That’s sweet, baby.” Goldie picked out the bacon from the pan to lay across the potatoes and brussels sprouts in the casserole dish. The bacon wasn’t all the way done yet, but it would finish cooking off in the oven.

“Do you believe in my mission?” Day asked quietly. He sounded uncertain, and perhaps even a little scared.

“I believe that you believe in it,” Goldie replied with a soothing smile. “I know it’s important to you to, uh, punish bad people and make the world better, right? Is that more or less the general idea?”

“Yes.”

“There are other ways to do that without killing people.”

Day’s eyes narrowed. “But that’s not the mission. The mission is to cleanse sinners from the face of the Earth. Those whose lips speak with venom, those whose tongues—”

“Yes, tongues spitting lies and the hands with the blood, I remember, baby,” Goldie gently cut in. He turned around to give Day his full attention. “Instead of dealing out God’s wrath, maybe you could work on spreading some of His love and kindness instead?”

Day ducked down. “That’s not the mission.”

“Why don’t you take on a new mission?” Goldie suggested. “Why not find another way to do some good in the world? I am definitely not the biggest fan of religion, but I do remember my parents’ church running big canned food drives and collecting toys around Christmas for kids whose families couldn’t afford to get them anything. You know, stuff like that.”

Day didn’t say anything.

Goldie sighed.

The oven beeped.

“Just something to think about, baby.”

Goldie put the casserole dish in the oven, set a timer, and adjusted the heat for the frying pan to sear the steaks. He didn’t mean to upset Day, but he was getting the feeling that Day’s father had given him a pretty limited view of the world.

Not only that, but what kind of father paid sex workers to sleep with their own kid? That was weird. No, wait, what wasreallyweird was the fact that Day’s father had told him he had to kill people to make God happy. That was leagues beyond weird—it was absolutely insane.

Goldie made up his mind that Day’s current plight was not his own fault, laying the blame squarely on Day’s father. It cemented Goldie’s desire to help Day because clearly he’d only ended up like this because of his crazy ass dad selling him this ridiculous holy mission crap. It would take time, but Goldie was certain he could get Day through this.

Purrcy came prancing into the kitchen to demand her dinner with agonized meowing. She circled around Goldie’s feet, and he gently nudged her away, promising to get her food ready soon. Soon wasn’t good enough, and Purrcy sat in the middle of the floor, reared her head back, and yowled.

Goldie rolled his eyes at her dramatic antics, and he stopped what he was doing to grab one of her cans of cat food out of the pantry. He got her dish ready and then popped it into the microwave just in time to turn the steaks.

Purrcy flopped onto her side, as if death was approaching.

“Chill out, your highness,” Goldie soothed. “It’s almost ready.”

Purrcy meowed pitifully

Goldie took her food out of the microwave. He snorted at her dramatic display, kneeling down to give her the dish as he teased, “And the Oscar goes to…”

Purrcy was up on her feet immediately, her meowing muted as she chowed down.

“You’re welcome, fluffy empress.”

Purrcy was too busy eating to reply.

By the time the oven dinged to signal it was time to remove the casserole dish from the oven, the steaks were ready to go in for their turn. Goldie had seared them in a mix of butter and bacon fat in the hot frying pan, and Day snuck a few curious looks as the savory smell filled the air, but he still hadn’t said another word.

Goldie wasn’t going to push, content for now to sip on his beer until everything was ready. He plated two big servings of the roasted brussels sprouts and potatoes with the bacon chopped and then sprinkled over top to accompany the filets. He wouldn’t normally cut someone’s steak for them, but he decided to go ahead and do it for Day.