“Lu. Cancer.” Ella held up the liver, and my stomach churned at the cottage cheese splotches.

“But he was a runner.”

“Runners get cancer, too. You didn’t research this guy?” She slapped the organ back in the cooler.

“He was a runner. Who can run miles every night with a liver that looks like that?”

“Apparently this guy. Butch won’t buy any of this stuff. He wouldn’t even feed this to his hounds, nevermind serving it to guests.”

“Well what are we going to do now? It’s not like we can take it back. ‘Oops, dead guy, we don’t need these after all. Have you got a cancer-free friend who won’t be missed?’ ” I grabbed a beer from the fridge and tossed another to Ella.

“We have to do another harvest.” Ella rolled the cool can across her forehead. Stress made her sweat.

“But the banquet is tomorrow.”

She flopped into the pub chair at my island, looked up at the ceiling, and wedged the cold beer behind her neck. “What about Danny?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What about Danny?”

“You had him tested before adding with benefits to your relationship, right? He’s clean.”

“I had him checked for STIs, not cancer. And he’s off the list. I need my benefits.”

“Screw your benefits, we need a set of organs before morning.” She pulled out her phone and slid it across the island. “Make your booty call.”

Read previous Lu and Ella.

Submitted for Thursday Threads, Week 132
Required Phrase: “Take it back”

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