Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Confounded: Part II - 33. Chapter 33
CHAPTER 33 --==Kit’s POV==--
[Uncle T sucks. :/]
I received the text about half an hour after I sent mine, telling him how much I’d enjoyed last night. And about two minutes later, I received the dreaded [we need to talk] message.
What had Taylan done?
“What’s with the face?” Dad asked, as he steered us out of the warehouse parking lot.
“I dunno,” I answered, worried. “Apparently, according to Tom, Taylan sucks.”
“Uh oh,” Dad answered, frowning.
“Did you two talk, last night?”
“Not that I know of,” came the answer, a quick look my way. “Nothing that concerns you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He spared another glance.
“You’re worried…what’s going on?”
“I dunno,” I repeated. “Tom just told me that we need to talk.”
“Ouch…”
It came out so sympathetic that I got even more worried.
“What do you think it means?”
“I don’t…”
“Dad…” I cut in, stopping that line before he uttered it.
“I don’t know, son. I wouldn’t dare venture a guess. It’s Taylan and Tom; any two other people, and I’d say don’t worry about it. With these two; we might be coming home to a warzone.”
“Dad!”
“What! You know Tay….”
I groaned.
“And Tom,” he finished, meekly.
“Combustion.”
“Volatile.”
“Floor it.”
He didn’t even need my encouragement; he accelerated the second I said it.
**********
Well…no sirenes were audible when we drove into the neighborhood. I took that as a good sign. Coming up to the house, it was still standing. Another good sign. Even dad expelled a sigh of relief. Tay’s car was gone, though.
“What does it mean?” I asked, as we both stared at the empty spot.
“They needed room to fight? Took it to the Valley?”
“Not funny, Dad.”
“Come on, Kit, I know as much as you do. Do you see any blood spatter?”
“NOT funny, DAD!”
“What do you want me to say. Honey, I’m home? I’d be lucky if I don’t have an axe sticking out of my forehead by the time I finish that line. And I know of nothing I did wrong. What did you do?”
“Nothing!”
“You sure? One hundred percent positive?”
“Positive.”
I thought about it. Maybe that kiss, this morning…
“I think…”
“Hmm…remember what I told you about getting a boyfriend like Tay?”
“Yeah?”
“You had to go and get one, didn’t you?”
“Dad?”
“That’s me.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Shutting up, son.”
After looking around for a bit, I came up empty. Nothing in sight. Dad returned from a foray onto the grounds. He shook his head.
“Maybe they killed each other?” I opted.
“Don’t sound so hopeful. Besides, who would take care of the bodies; it’s the weekend. The gardener doesn’t come in on those.”
“Dad?”
“Yo?”
“This is fun.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
He snickered.
“Don’t let your mom or my daughter-in-law hear about that.”
“Noted.”
I grinned at the daughter-in-law remark. Good one. I’d invented the mom one. It was only suiting he invented that one.
Just then, we heard Taylan’s car pull into the driveway. We awaited them, leaning against dad’s car.
“You’re still alive?” Dad asked as soon as Tay stepped out, overdoing it a bit on the relieved part.
“Try not to sound too disappointed,” it came back, Tay answered in a huff, stalking past us with his nose in the air.
“Yeah. It’s not like we brought back enough red meat to feed a halfway house,” Tom’s voice sounded, glaring my way. “Uncle Tay!?” he called then, “want me to fire up the grill?”
“Grill?” Dad replied, perking up. “Honey? I didn’t know we were gonna have a barbe…honey? TAY!”
He practically ran to the house, drooling.
“Dad! DAD! Come back here….Dad!”
Traitor.
- 19
- 12
- 20
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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