Page 39 of Rastor

"Screw that!" Brittney yelled, crawling down from the hood. "Tell her to let me in!" A second later, she was at my side, saying, "I don't know what her problem is. She acts like I'm gonna kill her or something."

Brittney turned toward the car and hollered through the glass, "You see a chainsaw here? No! You don't! So open up already!"

"No way!" Amber yelled. "Not 'til you're gone!"

With a huff, Brittney turned to me and said, "Can you believe this?"

Yeah, I could.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked.

To think, I'd literally paid someone to take her away, and somehow, she'd ended up right back on my doorstep.

She made a pouty face. "I forgot my purse."

From inside the car, Amber yelled, "I bet it's a fake!"

Brittney whirled toward her. "It is not!" She turned back to me. "You believe me, right?"

At this point, what I believed had nothing to do with anyone's purse. I turned my attention to Amber, who was still hunkered down in the car.

I spoke through the glass, "And what areyoudoing here?"

The nearest window slid down barely a crack. Amber lifted her face to the slim opening and said, "You said you wanted to talk."

I gave her a look. "And you couldn’t have called?"

Here, I'd left a dozen messages, and none of them contained an invitation to stop by. In fact, I'd been pretty pissed off at the time and hadn't bothered to hide it. If Amber was smart, she would've stayed far away.

"I did call," Amber said. "You didn't answer. But you said it was important." She gave me a big, friendly smile. "So here I am."

Yes. Here she was.

"Big whoop," Brittney said. "I was here first."

"So what?" Amber said. "It doesn't count if they don't let you in."

I glanced toward the front door. Bishop was still there. Guarding the house? Or enjoying the show? Knowing him, it was probably both.

Next to me, Brittney gave a loud, dramatic sigh. "I've had the worst night, and nobody even cares."

Well, I sure as hell didn't care.

But she was still talking. "I justknowI’m locked out of my apartment." She glanced toward Bishop. "And your stupid brother won't help." She cupped her hands and hollered out, "Thanks a lot!"

He lifted his mug in mock salute.

"It's called sarcasm!" Brittney called back. "Thanks for nothing, asshole!"

With a half shrug, Bishop took another drink of whatever.

Brittney turned back to me. "And Amber won't give me a ride either."

Through clenched teeth, I said, "You had a ride."

"Yeah, but that one sucked."

From inside the car, Amber yelled, "You suckedhim, you mean!"