“Huh?” she replies as she tries to run her hand through hair that hasn’t seen a brush in two days.
“Ancient proverb. Thoust shall turn the other cheek, but only until thoust is provoked. Then thoust battle begins again and ultimately, Troy fallests.”
Henri wrinkles her nose. “Who the heck is Troy?”
“Metaphor, my warmonger.”
She grits her teeth in frustration. “Could you just speak human for once. You know, like a mom.”
“Such an angel. I wouldn’t want to ruffle your pure white feathers by saying it like it is.”
Henri snorts, turns her back and stares out the passenger window.
When we reach the meeting point, Eight and his kid are already there, leaning against their black Ford half-ton, arms crossed, sunglasses on. Eight’s around 6 feet tall and Oscar’s already around 5’3”. Given that he’s only 12, my guess is he’ll outgrow his father by 4 or 5 inches. They’re both solidly built, short dark hair and warm tanned skin. Frankly, they’re carbon copies of each other. Like me and Henri, except I’m the nice one.
Before I’ve even stopped the car, Henri opens the door and bolts. Brambles scrambles out after her. They’re both sprinting in the direction we came.
“Where’s she going?” Eight asks as walks up to me, propping his sunglasses on his head.
I watch as she disappears behind a slight rise. I shrug. “Don’t know. She’ll be back when she runs out of steam.”
Oscar laughs evilly, or at least that’s my interpretation. “She’s so stupid.”
I decide not to greet the kid with ‘fuck off’ and instead reply very adult-like, “What you said right back atcha.”
Eight runs a hand over the top of his head in bemusement. “Well, we’re gonna have to wait for her to come back or go get her. We’ll be driving out in my truck.”
In his truck? “That wasn’t part of the plan.”
He stares at me with his dead eyes. “Elle said you were okay with it.”
I can’t hold his gaze, so I look at his ear, which is nicely formed. Unattached lobe. “Elle’s a liar.”
He walks up to my car and kicks its fender. It literally groans. “Your car won’t make it five miles on these roads.”
He’s right. “Someone might steal it if I leave it here.” I wince at how stupid that sounds.
“Who? A blind coyote?”
He’s right again.
“She’s comin’ back,” Oscar announces and we follow his line of sight.
Henri is trudging towards us, her shoulders slumped as if she’s just misplaced her spine. Brambles is at her side, tail up, tongue lolling.
“Loser,” Oscar yells as she nears us.
“Shut it,” Eight and I say together.
“I hate you all,” Henri drops to her knees and wraps her arms around Brambles, burying her face in his fur.
“I’m hurt to the core,” I say as Oscar snickers and Eight sighs.
Then he turns to Oscar. “This was your idea, so cut the bullshit.” He looks at Henri. “You too, princess.”
Henri stares daggers at him, then turns her back and stalks away. Not far this time, so I don’t have to tackle her.
I pop the trunk and reach for a duffle bag.
