Chapter 4: Teague

“Jesus, man.” I sat up abruptly in my chair as Keane burst through the door. He had that manic look in his eyes, the one he often had when he’d pinned his attention on something shiny and new. It was his schizophrenia kicking into high gear. He was fixating.

“I met the new intake,” he said, crossing the room to light a joint. He took a huge hit and offered it to me. I took it, more interested in his story as it burned between my fingers.

“Do tell,” I said, kicking back in the chair. “Consider me intrigued.”

Keane spun on me then, anger lighting a fire in his eyes, and I automatically leaned back a bit to stay out of his reach.

“She’s mine first,” he growled, clenching and unclenching his fists like he was ready to hit something. Probably me. “I don’t want you or Beau trying anything, you understand?”

“That’s not fair,” I snarled. “The rules are we share. That’s it. What’s yours is ours, brother.”

Before Keane could make a rebuttal, the door opened again, and Beau stepped in, closing it behind him and then turning the lock three times, just like he always did. Diagnosed with a severe form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, not even the meds took away all the symptoms. We loved him anyway.

“What’s the problem in here, gentlemen?” he asked. “I could hear shouting down the hall.”

“Keane met the new intake,” I said. “But he’s trying to claim her for himself.”

Beau’s eyes darted from me and over to Keane, eyebrows raised. “That’s not the deal, and you know it.”

Keane said nothing to this, just proceeded to crack his knuckles as he continued to pace the floor. Beau crossed it then, stopping Keane in his tracks as he reached out and put a hand on Keane’s shoulder.

“Get it under control, man,” he said softly. “Don’t let this push you over the edge.”

“It won’t,” hissed Keane. “I’m in complete fucking control.”

“Obviously,” I said, and Keane whirled on me. “Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

“Hey,” Beau snapped. “That’s enough. We don’t need to fall apart just because there’s a new fucking girl here. Jesus, pull yourselves together. Besides”—he crossed the floor again and plopped down in an empty lounge chair next to mine—“we have more intakes coming in today. She wasn’t the only one.”

“More?” I rubbed my hands together anxiously. “We know what that means. I love initiation nights.” I glanced at Keane, who was still pacing the floor, but he’d slowed a bit, trying to gather his thoughts.

“I love initiation nights,” he whispered. “What do you think, boys? Is it time to get ready?”

I got up from my chair and went to the dresser, digging in the top drawer for what I knew was already there, hidden away and waiting for the next task. I unwrapped the knife and held it up, grinning.

“This baby’s been raring to go. Let’s do it.”

“Hold on,” Beau said, getting to his feet. “I snagged this from Mrs. Jensen’s office during therapy and stowed it away in here.” He joined me at the dresser, but instead of checking the drawers, he leaned down into my dirty laundry basket, tossing clothes aside before pulling up a half-empty bottle of red wine that had been hidden beneath a dirty tee shirt.

“I knew that fucking cow was a lush.” Keane reached for the bottle with a laugh. “This is perfect.”

“I knew it would be,” said Beau. “Are you going to do it now or tonight?”

“Tonight,” replied Keane. “Where everyone can see it.”

“Are we hunting?” I asked, and the terrifying glint in Keane’s eyes told me all I needed to know. Yes, we’d be hunting. But would it happen fairly?

“Are you going to go fucking wild on the girl?” I asked. “Because that defies the point of the whole game.”

Keane shrugged, rolling the bottle over and over in his hands. “Can’t hurt her if I don’t find her.”

“As if you’ll let her out of your sight,” scoffed Beau, and I silently agreed. Once Keane was fixated on something, there was almost nothing that could deter him.

“Make the announcement,” Keane said. “Every intake better show up, or else it’s their ass.” He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. “Even our sweet little Evelina.”