Peppermint

Interlude 2 - There Has Been An Awakening

Mr. Graziadei hadn't exactly wanted Kristoff Scoville's late-night demo to go off without a hitch, but Josh, while not terribly happy about it, was perfectly able to lend his services to be that hitch. It was tough enough making his way down to San Jose from San Francisco undetected, and even tougher getting on top of that fast-moving remote-controlled truck, even with his not-inconsiderable upper-body strength.

The real challenge, of course, was to hang on and make sure the truck stayed on its programmed course. His father's plan was to stop it? Well, if that meant killing Josh as well, then Josh perching on the truck's roof was the perfect way to end that plan. Mr. Graziadei may have been a piss-poor father figure, but at least Josh could guarantee he wasn't going to try and kill him. The last time he tried that, he spawned a major religion and forced him to put his plans for the mortals on hold for another few millennia.

However many millennia that would have been, Josh didn't know. It had been two thus far. Could two fall under the definition of "a few?" He used to assume it would be more like three, although that would probably fall under the umbrella of "several."

And now he was starting to turn into Mr. Graziadei, filling his own brain with useless semantics to keep his thoughts running around in circles.

The hotel room door opened, and Mr. Graziadei returned, removing the "Do Not Disturb" sign that had been placed on the handle outside. "'Morning," he said, his voice slurred like he was coming off a hangover. Maybe he was, although no Heavenly alcohol would be enough to make him that drunk. "Sleep well, son?"

Josh bristled. "I...guess so?"

"Don't answer my question with another question." Mr. Graziadei gave him a would-be friendly-slash-fatherly wink. "Hmm. Didn't invite any women up here, did you? No, no, don't answer that. I know you wouldn't. You're a good kid."

Josh looked down at the floor. He couldn't help but feel a little shame, even if he knew his father's expectations about his love life were totally absurd and even contradictory.

"Oh, and by the way..." Mr. Graziadei turned around as he stood in the doorway to the bathroom, looking ready to hit the shower. "You may have managed to protect that one truck last night, but don't think I'm gonna let that slide. Keep an eye on the news and you might see a double dose of disaster before the day is out." He winked again. "Just a little something to chew on with your breakfast, huh? Why don't you order us some Denver omelets today? Three eggs each."

He closed the door at last. Josh then stared at it as if expecting he could make like Superman and heat-vision his father through the door. Not that Superman ever did that, though there was probably one or two of the infinite variations on the character that did.

He almost wanted to take his father's bait and turn the news on to see if it was true, the "double dose of disaster."

But he forced himself to not give his father the satisfaction.

Instead, he contented himself with a text to Michael. "I dunno how or when I'll get the chance, but I'm gonna fucking murder him."

Michael was quick to respond. "No, that's what he wants. And he wants you to be just as bad as he is, if not worse. 'Meet the new boss' and all that."

"Seriously, he's winding me up again. Everything I do to break his wheels, he doubles down on me, literally."

"Probably not exactly 'literally'"

"DUDE."

"But I know what you mean."

Josh wished Michael was here in person. Though neither of them could really stop Mr. Graziadei, even with their repeated small acts of rebellion, Michael could always be counted on to help him feel better. They could while away the hours gaming. Or boxing. Or playing football in suits because cosplaying The Room never failed to put a silly smile on his face.

More than anything, though, Josh needed to feel loved. Just a hug from Michael would do. A chance to cry in his big brother's arms before the poison his father fed in him burst forth and led to something for which he really would be at fault.

The time wasn't quite right to bring in Michael, or Ahmad, or Firdaus. Josh only wished, but he had to put his personal feelings, his disgust with his ongoing solitude, aside.

He needed time to figure out what the hell Mr. Graziadei's endgame really was, and where the likes of Kristoff Scoville figured in. How long would that unlikely partnership last?

At the moment, it was just strong enough that breaking it would be impractical, if not impossible.

There would, of course, come a time when the two started turning on each other.

So as loathsome as it was to stick with his father, Josh had to, if only so he could smell that moment of weakness and move in for the kill.

Listen to me. Like I'm a wolf or something.

True, Josh had always worked better in some sort of pack, but that used to be as far as the comparison went.

Now, though, he could see himself turning from prey to predator, usurping the alpha who had kept him down for so long.