Page 54 of Monstrous Serpent

Rua smiles, pointing at me. “This one needs a bib. Got one in the back?”

She chuckles, cheeks turning red.

I roll my eyes. “Dude, my shirt is clean. I didn’t drop anything on it.”

“For once.”

I turn back to the waitress. “Can I order a new friend?”

She shakes her head. “Well, let me know if you need anything. I’m going to go check my other tables.”

The waitress leaves, and Rua goes back to his wings. “Shaw's probably fine. He just needs to blow off steam. Same as the rest of them.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, Calix has been twitchy for weeks. And Kincaid—” He points a wing bone at me. “When's the last time your boy got to stretch his legs?”

“He's been okay.”

“Okay or managed?”

I pick at my straw wrapper. “Managed. But yeah, we need to hunt soon. Don't want to push it too long.”

Last time Hunter went too long without an outlet was senior year of high school. He'd hooked up with some kid, and one of the football players found out. Cornered the kid in the hallway and called him every slur in the book.

Real original stuff.

But the football player never touched the kid.

Didn't matter. My best friend put the football player through a locker door, then kept going. I had to put him in a headlock and physically drag him backward, and still, it almost wasn't enough because once Hunter crosses that line, nothing gets through.

Not even me.

South Shore University is where I learned just how deep Hunter’s darkness really goes. And mine, honestly. Turns out some of my teammates are wired the same way. And there was already a system in place for guys like us.

No one knows who started the hunts or how far back they go. And we don’t really care.

Rua sucks the sauce off his thumb. “Shin's got eyes on someone. He’s been following him for a couple of weeks.”

“Thought it was above him to go scouting.”

“I’m just happy I don’t have to do it. Anyway, the guy supposedly runs a massage parlor that doesn't do a whole lot of massaging. The girls working there didn't exactly fill out job applications, if you know what I mean.”

My hand flexes around my glass.

His head tilts. “Looks like you need to play live whack-a-mole too.”

“I’m not like them.”

“Mhm.” He tosses a pickle fry into his mouth, grinning as he chews.

I take too large a bite of my burger, glaring at him. I’m not exactly like Hunter. For him, the itch is constant, pacing under his skin until he kills someone. Then it quiets for a bit.

For me, it’s certain triggers—particular crimes—that set me off.

“I think you guys need to broaden your horizons. There's a whole buffet of shitty people out there, but you're stuck on the same menu.” Rua takes a few gulps of water, then sets his glass down a little too hard. “My nana wrote a check to donate to the fire department two weeks ago. Someone got hold of it. Ran a whole fraud scheme off her account. Five grand gone before she caught it.”

I swallow the chunk of burger I’ve been chewing. “Shit. She okay?”