Chapter 7

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Jack gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. He was just worried about him, that was all. Hopefully no one would be able to figure out who did it, they had said it wasn't likely, right? Mark was right, it would be fine, he didn't know why he was getting so worked up about it. Hadn't he gotten Anti out of enough situations like this to be used to it? He reached his house soon enough and walked through the front door. Maybe he was wrong anyways, maybe it wasn't Anti. Oh, who was he kidding, it had to be Anti, what else could have done that?

"Anti?" He called out. Nothing. He tried again, still nothing. He walked around the silent house, his feet making a tapping noise on the hardwood of the floor. He walked up the stairs and peeked into Anti's room, but it too was empty. He let out a noise of frustration and walked back out, as he passed the bathroom though, he glanced in and stopped abruptly. There he sat, on the tile floor, pulling all the toilet paper off it's roll and ripping it apart. "What are you doing?"

Anti jumped and turned around, paper hanging from his teeth. He grinned cheekily.

"Oh hey, Jack. When did you come in?" Jack gave him a scolding look, not that it affected him in the slightest. "Did you have fun with your boyfriend?" He tried again.

"Did you do it?" Anti blinked and stared at him blankly. "Did you do it?" Jack's voice raised involuntarily, the sight of him making his temper flare. "What did you do to those people, Anti?" Anti's eyes dulled and his confused look dropped. "What happened this time, huh? What poor creature did you murder, whose life did you fuck up? Do you even know?" Anti said nothing, but looked past him in an unemotional stupor. "That's what I thought." Jack stormed away from him and went out the backdoor. He walked into the woods behind their house and sat with his head propped up against a tree.

Something about being outside makes a person think deeper. Maybe its the quiet of being alone, or just the company of the trees and plants. Thoughts spun through Jack's mind, and he pounded a fist on the ground angrily. He thought about everything Anti had ever killed or hurt, which admittedly was never a person, but it was still just as upsetting. What was he going to do with him? He couldn't just live with a murder-machine.

He was torn in two, part of him never wanted to see Anti again after he did things like this, but the other part knew that he couldn't just get rid of him. It wasn't that easy, and in all honesty, he didn't think it was possible. Hot tears of frustration had begun to streak down his face, he wiped furiously at his eyes with his sleeves and sniffled. He stayed at the foot of the tree for far longer than he should have, taking in the peace and breathing deeply. It was dark when he decided to get up and walk back.

Halfway back his phone began to buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and quickly brought it to his ear, noticing it was none other than Mark.

"Hey, what's up?" Jack said.

"Hey, I need your help. I don't really know what to do, man, I'm kind of stuck."

"What do you mean, are you okay?" He heard Mark sigh.

"Its money, Jack. I didn't realize how bad it really was until today. I don't have enough for next month's rent." Jack stopped in front of his door, hand frozen on the handle.

"Mark, I- when did this happen?"

"I've known I needed to watch my spending for a while, but yesterday the bank emailed me and I ignored it until today and it's not good. I don't know what to do, I'm gonna lose my apartment. I..." he took a deep breath "I might have to move back home for a bit." Jack's jaw dropped, lips parting in shock.

"No, Mark, you can't! That would be giving up everything you've built up here." He paused, looking up at the old house looming in front of him. "You can move in with me, there's plenty of room here and we spend so much time together already. It just makes sense, you're coming here, Mark."

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