Trigger Happy

Trigger Happy //15

It had been two and a half years since that fateful night. I was flying way below the radar in efforts to escape the hunters. I couldn't even call my brother anymore, knowing they could use him against me.

There was one person I could trust though.

Riley Jackson.

Even though he's a pig, snores loudly and has really bad taste in music he stuck through with me even when he found out I was a half-demon.

"Hey toots, where's my beans? Stop your daydreaming and start cooking, or I'll start charging you for rent." The annoying voice I knew to be Frank Deveraux called out.

Oh did I forget to mention that I was living with Frank Deveraux also? We'll that might be because I wish I could forget his very existence, but unfortunately he was the only reason I could fly under the radar like I had been so far.

"Cool your jets grandpa, unless you want undercooked beans, you better shut your piehole." I retorted.

He was a grumpy man, a very grumpy one at that, probably because his wife and two children were killed quite some time ago. But I'd like to think he had a small soft spot reserved for me.

"I could just put you back in the whorehouse from where you came from, maybe then you'll learn some manners and how to cook beans, but I'll give you a hint YOU JUST BLOODY HEAT THEM UP!" he said.

Ok, I take it back, he has no soft spot for me whatsoever.

Game on, bitch.

So I decide to toss in every spice I could find into the bean soup.

That'll teach him. I laugh maniacally in my head, stopping myself from tapping my fingers together and saying "Excellent"

The Simpson's be damned.

I walked into what was meant to be the lounge, not that it looked anything like one, with just one recliner and wires all over the floor, this place was a dump.

"Hot enough for you Frankie?" I asked, inwardly grinning at my evilness.

He raised an eyebrow at the nickname but ate a little and shifted in his chair.

"Yes. Now was that so h---"

He then stuck his tongue out, spices littering his tongue, his face had already turned a bright red and he was panting...like a dog.

"What's that Frankie?

I couldn't help my laugh that broke through when he jumped up to get water, bolting like he was being chased.

It was the most exercise I'd ever seen him do and it was hilarious.

And in the next minute he was chasing me, with a gun.

I ran out quickly to the open country area, avoiding his every shot. Laughing like a mad woman.

Believe it or not this was a regular thing.

And every time I pissed him off he would use a silencer on his gun, not wanting to attract attention even though we were in the country, there wasn't anyone for miles.

"Try to keep up old man!" I teased.

"Dana" a voice moaned in exasperation.

Riley tackled Frank and wrestled the gun off him.

"Why do you insist on antagonizing him? You know he's certifiably insane." Riley continued.

"You watch who you're talking about boy, twenty years ago I could've taken you." Frank grunted.