Page 42 of Rastor

The car was empty, and the engine was no longer running. That could only mean one thing. She was somewhere inside my house.

What the hell?

Sure enough, I found her sitting with Bishop in the front living room. He was still holding that stupid mug and – damn it – now, Amber had a mug, too.

Well, this was just great. My brother – who'd been a dick to Chloe from day-one – had not only let Amber inside my house, but had actually served her coffee.

I stared at them. "What the hell's going on?"

Bishop lifted his mug, but said nothing.

I eyed the mug, some big ceramic thing that my decorator had picked out. "You know where you can shove that thing?"

"Nope." He took a sip. "And I don't wanna know."

I turned to Amber. "And what areyoudoing here?"

It was Bishop who answered. "She's my guest."

"Yourguest?" I turned to give him a look. "It'smyhouse."

Normally, I'd have said my house was his house, too. I trusted the guy. He might be the only guy I trusted. I wouldn't normally give a rat's ass who he invited over, or what they did. But why Amber? And why now?

Amber shifted in her seat. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Yeah," I said, "and this time, don't come back."

She'd barely budged when Bishop said, "Sit. You're not going anywhere."

I glared over at him. "The hell she isn't." After what she'd done to Chloe, she shouldn't even be here.

Bishop flicked his head toward a nearby chair. "Stick around," he told me. "You'll want to hear this."

I didn't move. "I've heard enough."

For hours, I'd been doing a slow burn about the thing with Brittney and Amber. Brittney had been Amber's friend, not mine. Amber had brought Brittney into my house, into my life, and into my relationship with Chloe.

The way I saw it, even if Amber didn't start the problems, she hadn't done a damn thing to stop them. It made her worse than an enemy. It made her a traitor, and I'd dealt with too many of those already.

"Just listen," Bishop said. "Consider it a favor, alright?"

"Yeah?" My jaw was tight. "To who?"

"Me," he said, "for getting blondie out of your hair."

My gaze shifted to Amber.

"Not that one," Bishop said. "The other one."

"So you gave Brittney a ride," I said. "Big deal."

Okay, yeah, it was a big deal. Brittney was a royal pain in the ass, and Bishop had taken her off my hands. But the idea was to get rid of these girls. Not invite them in for coffee.

"And," Bishop continued, "Brittney was locked out."

"So?" I knew Bishop. He could pop a lock in thirty seconds.

"And," he said again, "I had to toss out a couple of drunks who tried to block the door."