By Rude Strength by K.L. Hiers

Author:K.L. Hiers [Hiers, K.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-09-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter nine

LA felt lighter than he had in a long time.

He had something to look forward to—a night out with friends to celebrate his artwork. He could have never imagined doing that with Gavin, much less while working the insane hours that the funeral home had demanded. There was even a chance that he might make some money, though he told himself that wasn’t the only reason he was doing this.

Still.

To have someone—anyone—enjoy his art enough that they wanted to buy it?

That…

That was a first.

Back at home, he shooed Cass away long enough to change into a T-shirt and pajama pants. He wanted to be comfortable, and his back was complaining from the surge of activity this week. Once he was dressed again, he slowly headed downstairs.

Before he’d reached the last step, Cass was there to sweep him up into his arms. “Come, come! You must be exhausted.”

“Ugh. Hi. Yup.” LA grunted, his spine twinging a bit from being carried like a rag doll. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Cass to put him down though, enjoying the closeness as Cass hauled him toward the kitchen. “Ready for drugs, rum, and couch.”

“Oh!” Cass turned right around, now headed for the couch.

“Hey!” LA wiggled. “What are you doing?”

“I can fetch your drugs and rum. You need to rest.”

“I can make myself a damn drink, you know,” LA grumbled.

“Yes, you can. But you’ve already had a big, big day!” Cass chided as he gently laid LA across the couch. He bowed his head to kiss LA’s forehead. “Please. Let me.”

“I…” LA blushed. “Thank you.”

“Which drugs am I procuring?”

“Cyclobenzaprine. Little white pills. Just one.”

“Anything else?”

“No.” LA smiled softly. “Thanks, Cass.”

“You are so very welcome!” Cass hummed as he practically skipped back to the kitchen, a flurry of bubbles trailing behind him.

LA snorted out a little laugh and sighed, relaxing against the cushions.

Yes, Cass’s eternal sunshine mood was annoying, but it was also sweet.

And a bit endearing.

And maybe just a tad infectious.

Like a fungus.

LA glanced around the room, thinking the walls looked strange without all his paintings. He missed the haunted faces, the memories they held, and a bolt of panic struck his very core.

What if taking the paintings was a mistake?

He could hear his mother’s voice in the back of his mind, scolding him for thinking he could ever make something of himself as an artist, and he was nauseated. He sat up with a grunt, dragging his fingers through his hair.

Shit, shit, shit.

Maybe he could call Brandon. Text him. Something.

There might still be time to stop him from hanging any of them up.

“So, I know you’re going to be mad at me, but I read the little warning labels on the side of the bottle,” Cass announced as he walked back in with a small plate and a glass of what appeared to be chocolate milk. “But it definitely says you should not have alcohol while taking this medication, so—”

“Have you seen my phone?” LA patted down his pockets.

“What?”

“My phone.” LA stood up, wincing.

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