Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

172 - Rebecca

We didn't end up going back to the house that night but Colby drove us back the next evening. I couldn't get the thought of moving into the house out of my head, which left me zoning out constantly. It was true that I basically lived at the house, after all, so there was little point in denying everything would change if I moved in... besides losing my comfort place. The only place Colby and I could go to discuss our issues—those we didn't want the others to hear, which was most of them. Sure, we could go to some abandoned building but, unless we were feeling daring, we couldn't exactly fuck after making up somewhere like that.

The whole next day, even during another training session in the backyard, I just couldn't stop thinking about it. I never ended up training at all because I kept brushing off when someone would talk to me. I was sure it looked like something was wrong to everyone else but Colby knew what was going on; what I was thinking about.

He woke up during the day at one point when he felt me trying to leave him. He reached for me but I moved out of the way, making him open his eyes, only for him to flinch at the light in the room. It was day, so everyone was asleep who could hear us. "Sorry," I said, continuing to get out of bed.

He sighed. "Where are you going?"

"Food. I thought I heard Katrina."

I was almost at the door when a pillow came flying from the bed, hitting me easily. I spun around to Colby, whose eyes were closed again. "Come here," he murmured. Despite myself, I did. As soon as I was on the bed, he pulled me to lie down in front of him but didn't pull me close like he usually did. His eyes flicked open, his hand holding my face. "You can just tell me no. I don't like that you're constantly distracted."

I frowned. "But my answer isn't a definite no."

"I know, it's just I don't want you to be distracted if we're going to have people like Julian gunning after us. You need your head."

"If someone comes towards me, I will still kick their ass, I can assure you," I pointed out, making him smile. He let me go despite solving nothing with that.

I ended up eating with Katrina, who didn't shut up about this and that going on in the house—all the conversations I'd missed while eavesdropping. She filled me in mercilessly.

It was that evening that I was finally a little more "in the room". Colby wasn't up yet but I didn't mind as I laid across his chair listening to Sam and Jake have a rather amusing conversation about Jake's buying habits.

"Jake, why do you insist on bringing that shit into the house? There's literally no reason!"

"There's every reason," Jake replied, batting Sam away with his hand. "That shit is cool as fuck and I don't care what you say."

"Because making our house haunted is just what we need," Mike remarked as he rolled his eyes. Jake smirked at him. "What?"

"Do you believe we'll get haunted? I didn't know you thought ghosts were real, Mike. Are ya scared?"

"Fuck off," Mike groaned, almost making me laugh—almost, I wasn't in the mood to laugh.

Sam sighed loudly. "At least don't buy anything else for a year? I really don't want to walk into my room and find a doll in the middle of it with a knife."

"You're the one with the Chucky," Jake argued.

"You have a Chucky?" I didn't realise I'd said it until it was out. In another situation, I would've kicked myself, but the way Sam smiled at me stopped me.

"Of course I do." He tilted his head to the side. "Why?"

"Nothing, I just didn't expect that," I lied, quickly turning to my phone for something else to look at. Just as Sam and Jake were about to start up their conversation again, the door opened and closed and Colby was suddenly next to the chair.

He didn't look at me even as we switched places so I was on his lap; he just looked at Sam and said, "That's a lie, she loves Child's Play."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, slapping the back of his head. He smiled as he met my eyes knowing he'd pissed me off.

"It's alright if you like something, Becky," Sam said. "Do you want me to bring it down?" He paused. "Or I could take you to see it?" I couldn't help it when I looked at him. Colby, who had his arms around me, released me knowingly. Sam let go of Katrina, too, motioning me to the door. I had to hurry after him.

We walked up to his room, where I stood in the doorway waiting. He fished around in a closet for a moment, his back completely turned to me. I took a second to examine the room, which was much bigger than Jake and Tara's. I assumed Sam and Colby were the only ones with big rooms in the whole house. Hardly seemed fair but I was there for it, since Colby's room was basically mine, too.

I stopped that thought before it escalated.

By the time Sam pulled the Chucky doll from the closet, my anticipation was so high that it could've been shit and I'd've smiled. But no, it was an exact replica of the one from the movie and it looked fucking awesome. Sam saw my smile and mirrored it, holding the doll out for me. I couldn't help myself.

It was heavy for just a doll but I didn't care. "Cool, huh?" Sam asked as he watched me. I just nodded. "I got it a while back. Not sure why, I just wanted it."

I felt myself smiling at Sam, tipping the doll this way and that to test its weight. It was balanced, as if it were a real child, which was only a slightly concerning thought. Whoever had made this had paid attention to the little details.

Once I'd had my share checking it out, I held it out for Sam, muttering, "Thanks."

"For what?" He replied and I pushed the doll toward him. He smiled once more, taking it back from me to put it in his closet. "It's no problem. You should ask Jake to show you some of the shit he has—you might be interested."

"The serial killer shit?" I asked as we turned to start for the stairs again.

"Yeah, he's pretty passionate about that stuff... for some reason. I don't know if you'd like it." My mouth opened and closed but I didn't say anything. Truth was, I was interested in it—quite a lot, but did I really want to bond with Jake in any way, shape or form? Not particularly...

When we got back to the red room, Jake looked up at me hopefully, his eyes almost sparkling. "What?" I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.

He grinned. "Let me show you some of the serial killer shit! Please? No one else gives a fuck."

"Who says I give a fuck?" Jake pouted at me in response. I was torn between giving in and giving him the finger. After a few moments, I groaned. "Twenty minutes maximum."

"Yay!" Next thing I knew, the world was a blur.