𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚆 𝚄𝙿 𝙽𝙴𝚇𝚃 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙴𝚁 ,, robby keene

twelve ,, anxiety in real time

chapter twelve

anxiety in real time

The basement in the Karkaroff house was cold and sad. It didn't have the same haunted, creepy air as the house's exterior. Kyler's family clearly only used the basement as extended storage space- it lacked anything that made it seem remotely personal.

It left me deeply unsettled as I shone my phone flashlight into the maze of boxes with illegible, smudged labels. A white banker's box in he corner was severely water damaged, a label that read 'Baby Kyler' only just visible. I wanted so badly to look in that box and find something I could use to ridicule him.

But alas, we had a job to do. Making fun of the guy who had made my freshman year hell was going to have to take a seat on the bench for a minute.

"You guys took your masks off?" Ian frowned ( or at least I think he did, he was still wearing his ), looking between Robby and I. "Cowards. What if you get recognized?"

"Kyler's out of town, Ian. You're the coward for hiding behind your Jack Black mask." I sighed, pushing open the door to the minibar room where Ian and Corey thought the gold was hidden.

"Hate to break it to ya, cuz," Corey began, taking off his own mask, so that the only one of our group who still looked like they'd walked out of Nacho Libre was Ian "but we looked like idiots. It was a lame idea from the start."

"You guys are no fun." A disgruntled Ian shot back

I rolled my eyes. "I don't like this any more than you guys do, so let's just get in there, get what we came for and get the hell out of dodge. Does anyone have like, a duffel bag or something?"

Corey reached into his pocket, producing a handful of plastic bags from Longo's, Hot Topic, the local dollar store, and a sex shop that I wasn't even going to begin to ask about.

"Are you serious?" Robby hissed, shining his phone flashlight on the plastic lumps. "Do you seriously think those are gonna be strong enough to carry the Karkaroff fortune out of here?"

"It was short notice!" Corey defended

"Whatever." I shook my head, pushing through the saloon doors that lead to the drab minibar area.

True to the original pictures form every record of the Karkaroff house on file, the walls were a pale blue, the cabinets white and still original from construction. Clearly the space was no longer in use as a bar, a toolbox stacked next to other decidedly 'handy' items on the bar.
I held the teak saloon door open for Robby and Ian to pass through, letting go as quick as I could once Corey was in firing range.

The impact from the door elicited a grunt from my older brother as he was knocked backwards, hitting his head on a stack of cardboard boxes. The rest of us burst into laughter, Robby warning us to be quiet in between laughs.

"You alright Corey?" Ian quipped, his face covered by the luchador mask he still wore

"Ha ha." Corey grumbled, passing through the saloon doors on his own. "Very droll."

Returning to the task at hand, I stood in front of the oil painting, running my fingers along the golden frame. This was it. Behind this painting, there was either enough money in gold to save Miyagi-do, or we'd just committed a felony for no real reason and had no defense when we inevitably got arrested.

Love that for us.

"Here it is." Robby exhaled. "The biggest felony I've ever committed, but also the biggest reward."

"Should we be concerned, Ringo?" Ian interrupted

"Shut up, Ian." Robby and I said in sync

Cory pointed weakly at the painting. "Who's gonna open it?"