Page 59 of Take You Home (Redwater Demons #3)

O h, no,” Trevor moans, collapsing at the table next to Obie and fixing him with a pitying gaze. “Early-morning bowling session? Someone is having a bad day.”

Obie sputters indignantly at him. “What are you doing here? It’s a Wednesday! You have a job!”

“Jobs are overrated,” Sasha drawls, sliding into the seat on Obie’s other side. “And Trevor works every other weekend, remember? That means he gets a few weekdays off. And my class is virtual today, so I can watch it whenever I want.”

“Better question,” Obie says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you two here? We literally have league tonight.”

Honestly, Obie wasn’t expecting to see any of his usual bowlers when he showed up at Redwater Bowl right at ten a.m. opening time?—and avoiding those overly friendly faces was exactly the point.

He just bought a day pass from Harper at the front desk, grabbed some boneless wings and curly fries from a visibly concerned Nack Bar George, and started bowling with an aggression he usually reserves for tournaments.

He’s even using his powers to hit a strike every time. He doesn’t want to play fair, not right now.

Not when it still feels like his chest is shredded from the inside out.

“Well,” Trevor says, waggling his eyebrows, “there’s a certain someone working the front desk today who Sasha wants to, ah, buy a premium membership from.”

“Trevor!” she hisses, reaching behind Obie’s back to smack him.

The words briefly derail Obie’s moping. “Wait, Harper? You like Harper?”

Sasha’s face is brick red. “‘Like’ is a strong word,” she mumbles, slinking lower in her seat. “We’ve barely even talked yet.”

“Not just a premium membership,” Trevor informs Obie. “An unlimited membership. An ‘all night long’ membership. A??—?”

Sasha reaches behind Obie to hit him again. “You are literally the worst brother of all time. Your only use is as spare parts if I ever need an organ transplant.”

Obie chokes on a semi-horrified laugh. Trevor looks thoroughly unimpressed. “Oh, please. As your older brother??—?”

“By two minutes!”

“?—?it is my sacred duty to wingman the hell out of this potential relationship, and I intend to do my brotherly duties with gusto,” he says, sneaking a hand into Obie’s carton of food to snag a curly fry. “After I get some sustenance, of course.”

Obie shakes his head, but for the first time in what feels like forever, he’s smiling. “I need to introduce you two to Esteban and Lucia from Tacos Near Me. You’ll all get along like a house on fire.”

Sasha perks up. “Will we get free churros out of the deal?”

“I’ll see what I can do. ”

“Fantastic,” Trevor says, stealing one of Obie’s wings this time. “So what’re you doing here, man? Trying to get in some extra practice before nationals?”

“I…” Obie hesitates, choosing his words carefully.

“I’m just trying to get my mind off of things.

Just, you know, looking for the distraction of a game and a handful of strikes.

A solo game,” he adds pointedly, hoping they’ll get the hint and leave him in peace.

He loves the twins, he really does, just??—

Just not right now.

Predictably enough, they ignore the hint. “Whatcha trying to get your mind off of?” Trevor asks, licking some buffalo sauce off his fingers.

“And where’s Kyle?” Sasha asks, her eyebrows pulling together. “I feel like bowling with him would be a better distraction than solo bowling. At least you’d be able to make fun of his form.”

Pain slashes through Obie’s chest. “Kyle, uh, has work today.”

“Ugh.” Trevor wrinkles his nose. “Work. But he’ll be here tonight, right?”

“Not… tonight,” Obie says cautiously. “He’s… busy.”

The twins stare at him.

Obie tries not to fidget.

“Holy crap,” Sasha says, swinging around to face Obie fully. “It’s Kyle. You’re trying to get your mind off of Kyle right now. What happened?”

“Is he all right?” Trevor demands.

“Did something happen to him?”

“Did you two get in a fight?”

“Why are??—??”

Obie drops his head into his hands, groaning. “I despise both of you with every fiber of my being.”

“But is he okay?” Trevor persists. When Obie glances up, he sees that Trevor’s eyebrows are pulled together in honest concern. “Because, you know, we really do like him, Obie. And he seems good for you. Nothing happened to him, right?”

Everything happened to Chester Locke. That’s exactly the problem. “He’s okay, I promise. We just had a… disagreement this morning. It’ll be fine.”

Privately, though, Obie isn’t so sure. He still can’t believe how quickly everything spiraled downhill this morning, how Chester’s sleepy smiles and his fingertips drifting over Obie’s skin deteriorated so rapidly into Chester denying that last night changed everything between them.

How are they interpreting this so damn differently? How could Chester just continue with business as usual, just stay somewhere they could never be safe and never truly be together? Does revenge really mean more to him than a new future, a better future?

A future with Obie?

“Oh, no,” Sasha moans, grabbing one of Obie’s hands in both of her own. “What happened?”

Obie scowls. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

Trevor’s eyes narrow. “Did he hurt you?”

Emotionally, maybe. Outwardly, though, Obie just scoffs. “Trevor, look at me. Do you really think a stick figure like Kyle could hurt me?”

He doesn’t relent. “Then what happened?”

Wearily, Obie pinches the bridge of his nose with the hand that isn’t currently held hostage by Sasha. “If I tell you, will you let me do my misery bowling in peace?”

“Absolutely,” Sasha assures him, patting his hand. Trevor nods encouragingly, leaning in. “Come on. Let the professional humans troubleshoot your relationship problems for you.”

Obie scrubs a hand down his face, considering.

Obviously, he can’t tell them about the actual fight?—not without revealing his entire sordid history with Chester?—but he can give them the broad strokes without much issue.

“So Kyle hates his job and lives in an apartment he doesn’t like,” he says at last. “I told him that I wanted him to quit his job and move in with me, so he could be happy and safe and?—and so I could take care of him. He… took issue with that.” He shrugs one shoulder. “That’s it, I guess.”

Slowly, Sasha and Trevor blink at him.

And then, in unison, they turn to each other. “Red flag?” Trevor asks.

“Definite red flag,” Sasha agrees.

“Red flag?” Obie demands. “What do you mean, ‘red flag’?”

“We’re gonna paint a picture for you, okay?” Trevor says, spreading his arms out wide. “First, though, we need an example to use for our teachable moment.”

“Kill me now.”

“Hush,” Sasha scolds. “Now, give us the name of a friend you really care about.”

“Maggie.”

Sasha wrinkles her nose. “One who didn’t start World War I.”

“Ez.”

“And one who isn’t the most powerful spellcaster on the East Coast,” Trevor says.

“Cass?”

“He?—he started World War I, too, Obie.”

“Um.” Obie squints at them. “JJ? Roma? Desi?”

“How about a nice, regular human?” Trevor asks hopefully. “Do you have any nice, regular human friends?”

“Well, there’s always you two,” Obie says.

Sasha’s eyes light up. “Perfect! We’ll use Trevor.”

“Hey!” Trevor protests. “Why do I have to be the teachable moment? ”

“Because you’re in a minimum-wage job and a maximum-wage apartment.”

“Fair enough,” Trevor says. “Obie, you’re me.”

“I don’t want to be you,” Obie says. “Also, why are you overpaying for an apartment when I own a third of Redwater?”

“You’re me,” Trevor insists. “So you’re a human, right? You’re a human, and you’ve been alive for twenty-odd years, and you’re basically at the beginning of the rest of your life. Still no clue what you’re doing, of course, but you’re working on it.”

“And you’re a normal, middle-class human,” Sasha continues, “so you’ve had to work for everything you’ve gotten. Sure, your job sucks and your apartment sucks and your life sucks, but you got that job and rented that apartment and created this life yourself, and that’s important!”

“Objection,” Trevor says. “My job doesn’t suck. I get to hang out with the otters.”

“He does get to hang out with the otters,” Obie agrees.

“You’re both ruining the picture that we’re trying to paint,” Sasha complains.

“Anyway,” Trevor finishes grandly, “once you’ve imagined all that, I want you to picture that this sexy, obscenely wealthy silver fox of a demon saunters into your life and tries to sweep you off your feet.”

Obie stares at him. “Did you just call me a silver fox?”

Trevor nods sagely. “You might not have gray hair, but you’re hella old, man. I think it counts.”

Sasha hits his arm before turning back to Obie. “So what do you think about that? About this silver fox swooping in and telling you that he’s going to make all your problems go away?”

Obie sighs. Unfortunately, he’s been in this dimension long enough to know exactly where they’re leading him. “Red flag. Undermining someone’s financial independence is a common abuse tactic. I, um. I didn’t think of it like that.”

Partly because he doesn’t need to, of course. Chester isn’t exactly a “nice, regular human,” and his situation is about as far from normal as it gets, but??—

But the twins do bring up a valid point. If and when Chester permanently defects from the Sanctum, he’s most likely going to be completely dependent on Obie for essentials like food and housing.

That’s a scary position for anyone. He thinks Cass worked around it by gifting JJ an obscene amount of money and Ez straight-up handed Roma the deed to a new house, but Obie will have to find a way to make sure Chester doesn’t feel trapped.