CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“You’re in deep, Dad,” Marcus said.
He listened as I told him everything. I could barely believe the story myself as I told it. Seems like every adventure I got involved in got crazier and crazier.
“You really took poison?” he asked.
“It’s every bit as awful as you’d expect,” I said.
“You’re crazy,” he said. “That was resourceful AF.”
I didn’t exactly like the idea of my son cursing in the afterlife.
“I’m dead, Dad,” he said. “Who cares?”
I let it go.
“How’s death treating you?” I asked.
“Not bad,” Marcus said. “CeCe keeps pretty good watch over our family. Demons don’t bother us.”
“You tell me if that changes,” I said.
“It’s cool.”
I had missed Marcus’s chill personality. Before he died, he was becoming more like my dad every day. My father, Charles Broussa
