CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN- More Deals
"I can't wipe memories." Xavion shrugged. "I'm a demon, not an evil wizard."
Grant bit his lip, looking at the ceiling as though it held the answers. "What if we try to knock him on the head or something?"
"I'm literally listening to all of this." The kid grunted. He turned to me. "Some help you are, angel-turned-demon." He scoffed. "I swear. This is why I wanna convert to Satanism. At least the demon does what you'd expect him to-- with the kidnapping and all. There's no such thing as a 'risen demon', they just do exactly what they're supposed to. Angels? They're all over the place morally."
"That's 'cause sinning is 100% better." Xavion pointed out. "No one decides to follow along with God's bs." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the kid. "Why are you in that stuffy church if you don't wanna worship God and Jesus and the Holy fucks?"
The kid gave Xavion a dull stare. "Dude. I'm 11. I have no free will, I just do whatever my mom drags me to. Why do you think I spent all of the service hiding in the bathroom? Father John's voice literally lulls me to sleep-- this kidnapping is the highlight of my day."
Grant propped himself up. "Yeah, you didn't look all that happy to do the play stuff either during the acting class."
"No duh." He scoffed. "I hate my mom, she's always dragging me back and forth from plays, to church, to school." He groaned, wiggling his bound hands. "Say, can one of you loosen these ropes? They hurt."
I nodded and leaned forward, but Xavion grabbed my wrist and jerked me away. "Don't listen to him, he's just trying to escape."
The kid narrowed his eyes at Xavion. "Hey. Let me trick the dumb nerd in peace."
I frowned, offended. "I'm a smart not-nerd, thank you very much."
The kid raked me with a look of judgment and disbelief. "You tell yourself that."
Xavion's arms crossed. "So, let's back up a bit. You sayin' you don't like church?"
"I hate it. I also hate acting. My mom says it 'builds character.' Which is both a horrible pun and a horrible idea. I don't wanna act. I want to start a rock and roll band called 'AA'."
"Alcoholics Anonymous?" Grant asked, propping himself
The kid glared. "No. Ass Armpit." He thought for a moment. "Or Abandoned by Angels. We're still figuring out our branding. We just know we want alliteration."
"You could do double-d's so you can make boob jokes." Xavion pointed out.
The kid scoffed. "Yeah, maybe. If we were immature babies that made boob jokes. We're trying to be taken seriously."
"You do realize that you just pitched the idea 'Ass Armpit', right? And you're, like, 14. That's the pinnacle of boob jokes." Xavion retorted.
"For the last time, I'm 11. And A's alliterate better than D's."
Xavion guffawed. "What?! Deranged Demons. Dorito Dicks. The Down Deep. Dusty Doors. Diddle and Drive. Drunk Driving. Double D's. Don't Deliver. Dirty Deli. Must I continue?"
"No. Please don't continue." The kid rolled his eyes. "My ears will start bleeding."
"Dental Dare. Daring Dental. Double Dental. Dental Dicks. Deep Down and the Dentals."
The kid cut Xavion off with a shout. "You can do the same thing with A's! Ass Armpit. Angel's Ass. Angel's Armpit. Angel's Appendage."
"You're just naming off angel and body parts!" Xavion protested.
"You said dental, like, ten times!"
"I like the word dental! It's less weird than something like 'angel.' What's Ishmael's ass and armpits gotta do with your dumb 16-year-old crew?"
"11! 11! Except for Garrett, he's 12."
Grant sighed wistfully. He flipped over and faced me. "So, Ishmael. What do you think we should do with the kid?"
"Eleven-Schleven! I don't care how old you are, I can still lift your scrawny-ass and chuck you into the wall!"
"At least I don't have to have a face as ugly as yours!"
"You're the one with the ugly face!"
I sighed and walked over to Grant's bed. I plopped down. "I don't know. We might have to convince or persuade him onto our side."
"How dare you call me ugly?! I'm literally so sexy! So sexy!"
The kid smirked at Xavion. "Does your mommy tell you that?"
"No! But yours does!"
"You made fun of me ten minutes ago for making a 'ur mom' comeback!"
"It makes more sense if I do it because I'm actually old and hot enough to bang your mom!"
Grant shrugged. "I'm not so sure he'll work with us willingly."
"My mom would never go for you!"
"She so would!"
"Wouldn't you rather be K-I-S-S-I-N-G-ing the little angel you have a crwush on?"
"I don't have a crush."
"Awwwe whittle dewon have a crwush."
Grant raised a questioning eyebrow. "Xavion has a crush on you?"
I had to fight off a blush. "I think it's mostly a physical thing." I awkwardly looked away.
Xavion and the kid were still squabbling.
"Fuck you!"
"No, fuck you!"
"No! Fuck you!"
Grant finally cut in. "Guys! Come on." Xavion finally stopped fighting with the kid and raised his eyebrow at Grant. Once it was quiet, Grant sighed. "We've got to figure out how to fix this issue."
The kid snorted. "What's this 'we' shit? I hope you fail."
Grant glowered at the kid. "Come on, you don't even like the church!"
"Well..." he shrugged. "At least they don't tie me to a chair and threaten to bang my mom." He narrowed his eyes at Xavion.
Grant sighed. "Look, if we let you go-- do you promise not to tell the church where we're hiding?"
A moment of silence. I held my breath as the kid thought over it for a moment.
He finally shrugged. "Okay, yeah. I won't tell the church."
I blew out a sigh of relief.
"I'm telling the fucking cops! You kidnapped me!" As if to make a point, he started to jerk around in his confinements.
Grant shrugged. "Then we can't let you go."
The kid narrowed his eyes, finally easing. "Then don't let me go. It'll just mean more jail time for you."
"What if we cut you a deal?" Xavion suggested.
"A deal? With a demon?" The kid scoffed. "Alright. I'll give you my liver too while I'm at it."
Grant stood up, crossing his arms and looking the kid down. "What about cutting a deal with me? I'm a human."
"And an accessory to a kidnapping. Not sure you're the most stand-up, trustworthy dude. I don't even know your name." He retorted.
"I'm Grant." Grant answered, shrugging. "What's your name?"
"It's Noneofyourbusiness, actually."
Grant's eyes rolled. "Okay, 'Noneofyourbusiness,' what will it take to convince you not to spill the beans about where the angel's hiding spot it?"
Noneofyourbusiness rolled his eyes. "Free. I don't give a fuck about the church's plans to turn this 'Ishmael' nerd into a religious superstar. Not telling the police that you've locked me up here against my will? That's gonna cost ya, I'm afraid."
"Religious superstar?" I echoed, scrunching my eyebrows in confusion.
Noneofyourbusiness shrugged. "Yeah. Something about 'proving once and for all that God is real' and exposing your angel side to everyone to get more worshippers and, honestly, money. It's truly on par with catholicism."
I frowned. "I... I thought they just wanted to help me ascend?"
Xavion scoffed. "Renee, that slimy bitch."
"I actually think it was more of Father John's idea." Noneofyourbusiness shrugged. "Either way, yeah. They'd probably prefer you stayed on Earth for publicity."
"If that's true, why haven't they exposed him yet?" Grant asked.
"Yeah, 'cause people are gonna believe the church when they get on the news and scream 'there's an angel among us!'." Noneofyourbusiness sarcastically jeered. "They want solid proof by having him do something magical, or whatever, in front of enough people to gain some believable talk."
I frowned. Why did they feel to use me as though I was a peg on their ladder?
The kid continued. "Yeah, they stopped doing service on Monday's and everyone just gathers to discuss 'Mission Angel' then. Last Monday, they made the plan to burn down some house to draw you out. But, of course, you hid even deeper." He looked around. "Apparently in a gross motel."
A grin split Xavion's face. "Maybe this kidnapping wasn't for not..." he leaned in, giving Noneofyourbusiness a once-over. "Go to the meeting tomorrow and tell us what their next plan is."
The kid gave Xavion a deadpan expression. "Definitely. I'll be sure to do that on my way home from the police station, after I report the three of you crazy shits."
"Noneofyourbusiness, please!" I cut in, trying not to sound overly desperate. "We're just trying to do our best here. Can't you just do us a favor and not get the police involved?"
"Did you just actually refer to me as 'Noneofyourbusiness'?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "I was obviously fucking around when I said that. The name's Christopher. Call me Chris." Suddenly, he smirked. "And, sure. You want me to keep my mouth shut and help you take down the church? It'll cost you."
Xavion rolled his eyes. "How much?"
"A billion dollars."
"Ten," Xavion counter-offered. "Take it or leave it."
Noneofyourbusiness, or 'Christopher' or 'Chris' or whatever, rolled his eyes. "Half a million."
"You've worked yourself down to three dollars." Xavion shrugged.
"Five trillion."
"Okay." Grant cut in, "Obviously, these negotiations are a bit all over the place. How about we... do something for you? Like a favor in return?"
Christopher frowned. He opened his mouth, most likely to make a sarcastic jab, but suddenly seemed to think about it. A grin split his face. "Okay. Convince my mom to let me practice with my band instead of doing acting classes."
Xavion narrowed his eyes. "Seriously? How are we supposed to do that when your mom knows who we are?"
"I didn't recognize you. She won't either. None of us have actually seen you before-- we just know the basics of what to look out for, what kind of activity to report to Father John, and whatnot."
"How do you expect us to do something like that?" I asked. "We don't exactly know her."
Christopher shrugged. "I dunno, not my problem. Get it done or go to jail."
"Fine." Xavion scoffed. "We'll get your mom off your back. Deal?" He reached out his hand.
Christopher looked down dully at Xavion's outreached hand. "Two problems, dumbass. One, I'm not shaking the hand of a literal demon. Two, my hands are kinda-sorta-maybe still fucking tied up." He jeered, shaking his roped hands to prove a point
This time when I stepped forward to untie him, Xavion didn't stop me. I struggled to undo the knots for a moment before Xavion leaned over me to help.
Once the kid was free, he shot out of the chair so fast it tipped over and made a loud cracking noise on the floor. He rubbed his wrists, standing there. A minute went by.
"Well?'" Xavion rolled his eyes. "What are you doing standing there?"
Christopher glared. "Waiting for my ride home, jackass. I don't know where the hell I am."