Troubles and Treats (Chocolate Lovers #3)(13)

Holding Rollo to my chest, I turn and walk out of the room.

“You have no idea what that monster is capable of. You didn’t see her eyes. It was like looking into the windows of hell. I actually felt a chill. That cat is Satan. I bet she’s upstairs right now trying to suck the souls out of our kids. Why aren’t you more worried about this?” Drew demands.

“That cat is a sweetheart. You threw her into a pile of snow. What did you expect her to do?” I ask as I make my way up the stairs and Drew trails behind me, shushing me as we go.

“We need to stop talking about her. She’s probably listening and plotting our deaths. I bet she knows thirty-five ways to kill us and make it look like an accident. They’ll find our bloody corpses, and she’ll just be sitting there, looking up at them with those big, cute Puss and Boots eyes but no one will think she’s coming to do the Devil's bidding,” Drew whispers as we walk into our room.

He turns and looks both ways down the hallway and then quickly runs away from the doorway, over to the closet. I watch as he rifles through the closet until finally pulling out what he's looking for - a baseball bat. He lifts it up on his shoulder and puffs out his chest.

“You do realize Miss Lippy doesn’t weigh more than six pounds, and you’re ready to fight her with a metal baseball bat, right?” I ask him as I climb into bed and get Rollo situated next to me.

“Cold, dead eyes, Jenny! How many times do I have to tell you? It’s like you’re not even afraid of Satan! He wants to eat your soul!” he whispers loudly, creeping around the room and glancing nervously behind the nightstands and under the bed.

“She’s just a little kitty, Drew.” I sigh as he makes his way into the bathroom.

I hear the water running in the sink followed by cursing as he cleans off his scratches. He comes back into the room a few minutes later with the bat clutched tightly to his chest.

“That little kitty tried to gut me like a fish tonight. Do you want me to go downstairs and get you a weapon? I would totally do that for you. I would brave the wrath of the human-slayer to make sure you could sleep safely tonight,” he tells me seriously.

“I could probably make it to the first drawer on the left in the kitchen and get you a steak knife if I can bug out early and stay under cover until I make it back to the barracks without risk of another attack,” he whispers to himself.

When he starts talking like his father, I know he’s lost his mind.

“Drew, cut it out! I don’t need a weapon and you’re not going to a freaking war. Good grief! You’re not really going to sleep with the baseball bat, are you?” I ask him as he climbs under the covers, still hugging the bat.

“Yes. Yes I am. I am not going to just let that thing terrorize our family. I am going to bed armed and ready to protect the people I love at all costs. You didn’t see the evil in that thing’s face when I realized I’d thrown it out into the snow and quickly opened the door back up to get her. She flew Jenny! She rose up out of the snow and f*cking FLEW at me! There was death in her eyes. She was covered in snow and foaming at the mouth. I’m pretty sure her eyes turned red too,” Drew mutters.

I can’t even think of a reply to the insanity coming out of his mouth right now. As soon as I roll over and decide to just ignore him, he pops up in bed with a gasp.

“Did you hear that?” he whispers so softly I barely hear him.

“Hear what?” I ask.

“SHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Listen,” he scolds.

I sigh in irritation and listen for whatever it was Drew thinks he's heard. I open my mouth to tell him to grow up, and I hear it. I crane my neck and try to figure out what the hell it is. It almost sounds like a garbled female voice. Like maybe we left the TV on downstairs or something.

The sound gets louder, like it’s coming closer. It’s definitely a female voice and she’s talking like one of those Valerie girls. “Like, you know! Like, oh my God! Like, totally awesome!”

“Oh my God, is this like a Ghosts of Christmas Past thing? Is this us if we were born in the eighties? But, would that be Christmas Past or Christmas Back to the Future? I don’t want to see my back to the future! I’m not ready!” Drew cries softly.

I elbow him in the ribs and shush him.

What the hell is out in our hallway?

We wait in anticipation on the bed, and now I’m a little glad Drew decided to bring a bat to bed with him. I don’t think a bat will work on a ghost, but at least Drew didn’t lie when he said he would do anything to protect us.

All of a sudden, right in our doorway we see two red, glowing eyes. Drew and I have completely opposite reactions to the creepy glowing eyes staring us down. As soon as I put two and six together, the girly voices and red eyes, I immediately know what it is.

Drew, on the other hand, does the exact opposite of what he had just vowed a few minutes ago.

“OH HOLY MOTHER FUCKING TAINT BUCKET! IT’S MISS LIPPY! SHE WANTS MORE BLOOD!” Drew screams as he throws the bat to the ground, jumps up to his feet on the bed, and scrambles across it, stepping on my legs in his hurry to run away. Before I can even sit up in bed, he’s already made it across the room and locked himself in the bathroom.

“Gee whizzer, Drew! So nice of you to do whatever you can to protect us!” I shout to him in the bathroom as I get up out of bed and stomp out into the hallway to pick up Veronica’s Furby toy. She always forgets to shut the thing off when she’s done with it, and every once in a while it will just get a mind of its own and wander through the house.