I looked to Cody, then to Romeo, who still had me in the curve of his arms.
He squeezed my shoulders.
Was I in the Twilight Zone? Was I seriously experiencing the same life that I’d led for the past two decades? I felt like someone was about to jump out and yell “PSYCH!”
The silence must’ve gotten to her because she said, “What?”
“You taunted her with Brawny’s disappearance for months, Birdee,” Vito said carefully. “In person and by text. You even warned her before Brawny disappeared.”
Birdee tilted her head, then exploded, coming up off the couch in a grimace of pain. “I fucking warned her! I told her that Brawny wasn’t being taken care of. I told her that he wasn’t getting fed. I told her that she needed to keep an eye on him.”
Cody started reading a text. A screenshot of the text that I’d received from Birdee.
“Watch your own stupid fucking dog. If you’re not careful, he’ll go missing and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself,” Cody read aloud for the room.
Birdee sat back down painfully. “I warned her. I didn’t have to be nice about it.”
“That sounds more like a threat,” Cody pointed out.
Birdee shrugged. “I don’t care how you look at it. All I know is that I warned her. I told her it would happen.”
“What made you think it would happen?” Gentry asked calmly, likely the only voice of reason at this point.
My mind was freakin’ spinning, and I couldn’t come up with a single constructive thing to say.
“And Morris?” Romeo asked. “What happened with him?”
My stomach sank.
I didn’t want to hear her answer.
I didn’t think that there was any way she could get out of what she’d done with Morris…but apparently, I was wrong.
Eighteen
So who is this moderation everyone keeps telling me to drink with?
—Romeo’s secret thoughts
Romeo
My heart was still pounding a million beats per minute.
I’d gotten the call at two to come to Mable’s house, and my heart rate had shot through the roof.
At first, I hadn’t known what was going on.
But then Gentry had stopped me outside and given me a short rundown.
Now, I was standing here, listening to everything get aired out, and wondering how something like this could happen without either one of them figuring it out.
Did neither one of them talk? Ever?
“What about him?” Birdee sneered. She flicked her gaze to me. “I’m glad you got rid of him. He was a waste of space. The fact that he was breathing the same air as me offended my every nerve ending.”
“Wh-what?” the woman at my side stuttered. “Are you joking right now?”
“Joking about what?” Birdee asked, clearly impatient. She was also very clearly in pain. Every time she breathed, she looked like she was in pain. “I’m getting pretty damn exhausted here. Can someone just spell it out for me?”
