“I like only certain kinds,” she muttered. “There has to be a happily ever after. There has to be no cheating. There has to be at least one baby produced by the end of the story. And there has to be no family drama. Because I have enough of that on my own.”
I snorted out a laugh. “You just hit all of my favorite things, too. Though, I’m okay if they don’t have a baby. As long as it’s a trilogy and they have a baby by the end of the third book.”
We got to the external hotel room and stared at the closed door. “Do we knock?”
“And give her a chance to look and see us and not let us in?” Birdee scoffed. “No. We go in…”
She tried the door and it opened.
We both pushed through the door and came to a stop when we saw almost every single ounce of shit that’d come from my parents’ house in a hotel room stacked to the gills.
And there was our “mother” going through her things frantically, looking for something.
“Jesus Christ, Tom!” Whitney hissed. “It’s in a box, my ass! It’s not in any of these boxes!”
I wondered if she was looking for her laptop.
“Mother,” Birdee called with way more confidence than she had. “We’re here to discuss some things.”
Whitney whirled around, looking startled.
“What are you…” She looked at the two of us, her eyes narrowing when she saw us so close. “What things?”
“First, we need to discuss your reasoning behind stealing both of our identities.” I crossed my arms over my chest, which looked ridiculous seeing as I was still wearing my heavy winter coat. “Then we need to talk about everything that you’ve done to ruin our lives, and why you thought that you could get away with it.”
“I did no such thing.” Whitney rolled her eyes. “I paid off every single thing that I took out in your name. Every car loan. Every credit card. You two have perfect credit right now.”
“Perfect credit.” Birdee stuffed her hands in her coat pocket. “I still have a thirty-thousand-dollar car loan in Mable’s name that I now have to pay.”
“If you’d let me pay it, and deal with everything, instead of throwing a fit in the parking lot a few days ago and zoomed off in Mable’s truck, you might not be in this predicament right now.”
“We’re wholly in this predicament because of what you’ve done,” I disagreed. “How about you tell us the reasoning behind everything that you’ve done. You at least owe us that much.”
Whitney rolled her eyes. “I don’t owe you anything.”
Well, I supposed she was right about that.
She didn’t owe us anything.
We were fed and healthy. I mean, our basic needs had been met.
But still, I would say she’d barely met the bare minimum when it came to us.
“If you’re not willing to talk about that, how about you explain why you thought it would be a good idea to set Mable’s boyfriend’s barn on fire?”
“I didn’t do that.”
“You didn’t physically do it. But you blackmailed a desperate man into doing it for you. Which is all on tape, by the way,” I pointed out.
“You’re being extra.” She settled one arm across a tower of boxes. “Where is your boyfriend, Mable?”
I didn’t rise to the bait.
“Or, we could talk about why you’ve been stealing from the coffers, so to speak,” I said. “You and Dad are going to owe a lot of money.”
“We won’t be paying a dime.” She smiled smugly, as if she had a little trick up her sleeve.
Which, she validly did have one.
