Brad.
“Well,” Nikita announces after a while, jumping down from the kitchen counter, “I’m going to go roast some fuckers. Anybody want in?”
We shake our heads in unison.
“Suit yourselves.” She hoists the blowtorch on her shoulder. “More for me.”
As soon as the unmistakable noise of fire and mayhem reaches our ears, Kallie turns to me. “Okay, spit it out.”
“Spit what out?”
“Something’s wrong.” She crosses her arms and fixes me with a no-nonsense glare. “You did something.”
“What?” My voice comes out high-pitched, like a dial-up modem. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. You’ve got the same face you had when you mixed up those two patients’ charts and gave an old lady weed tablets by mistake.”
“They were both called Mrs. Flannery!” I throw my hands up. “They were in palliative care! How was I supposed to know onedidn’thave cancer?!”
“Well, you gave her the best last trip of her life, I can tell you that.”
Fuck. Kallie knows me too well. It’s useless to try and lie to her—she’ll just call me outandmake me feel like shit about it.
“It’s…” I bite my lip.
“Prince Charming Corleone?”
“Okay, first off, he’s Bratva, not mafia. I’ve been assured that those are two very different things.”
“But it’s not him, isn’t it?” She sits back on the counter. “Not just him, at least?”
“It’s…” I sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“Okay,” she says. “Since you clearly don’t want to talk about your sins, let’s talk about his. What’d he do this time?”
“I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Start at the beginning.”
So I do.
By the time I’m done catching her up, her eyes are just about ready to fall out. “Let me get this straight. You got kidnapped by your baby daddy’sdeadenemy?”
“I mean, he looked fine to me.”
“And now, you’re living with him again. The baby daddy, not the dead enemy.”
In the bathroom, Nikita cackles like a mad scientist. I realize in that moment that I’m never getting my security deposit back.
“Like I said,” I exhale. “It’s complicated.”
“So have you fucked him yet?”
I choke. “Wha—no!”
“Why not?”
“Because!”
