Chapter 3So, that’s how my ex came to live with me. Again. Like a herpes sore, he’d returned. I took the bed. He had a sleeping bag set up outside the bedroom door. “You ain’t leaving my sight, Bobby Ray, not until the reverend gets back to you.” He placed a Bible, a crucifix, and a statue of Jesus at the head of the sleeping bag—also, what looked like a bottle of water. I was hoping for vodka, but betting on something a bit more holy.
“You suddenly found religion, Matty?” I asked. “They sell that down at the bar now?”
He rolled his eyes. “In case the demon comes back, I want to be prepared.”
I should’ve told him to be prepared to come then, because that demon had a certain way about him, and Matty pretty much tended to travel that way, too. Him and me, we were like two peas in a pod. N
