From the way he walked, it was clear we were his destination. Not that he seemed happy about it. His chill gaze swept over us, and he got a look on his face like he’d eaten a rotten egg. Without a word, he slid into the booth, sandwiching me between Jen and him. We both gave him awhat the fucklook.
“Didn’t anybody teach you that you’re supposed to ask before you make yourself at home at someone else’s table?” Jen asked.
“Stacey sent me over, so you can take it up with her,” he replied in a delicious, hot-silk voice that was made to talk women out of their panties. Of course, once you knew he was a self-righteous prick, it was easy enough to resist. All the same, I had to wonder how often women spontaneously orgasmed when he was giving them a speeding ticket.
“Stacey? She sent you overhere?” she repeated. “Are you sure she didn’t tell you to go to hell?”
He gave her a cold look. “If so, it appears I’ve arrived.”
I looked at Jen. “I don’t think Mikey likes us.”
She was in the middle of drinking her soda and snorted liquid out her nose as she broke out laughing.
After gaining control and wiping her face with her cocktail napkin, she poked me in the shoulder. “Why do you suppose Stacey would send him our way? I know she likes us, so it can’t be the torture factor.”
“She needed a chance to breathe? He sucks a lot of the air out of the room,” I suggested.
“Stacey invited me here tonight,” he said easily. “Looks like you got the same invite. Question is, why do you both look like you got dressed in the dark? I’m surprised the bouncers let you in.”
“What, you haven’t heard of thrift store goth chic?” Jen said with a perfectly straight face.
We were both dressed alike; dark jeans, dark shirts, and had our hair pulled back in pony tails. Jen wore a pair of scuffed Doc Martens. Not exactly club attire.
“Thrift store goth chic?” He echoed brows shooting up. “That’s what you’re going with?”
“Is it better to look like you’re on your way to a rodeo?” Jen looked around. “We blend in better than you.”
“And blending is good?”
Officer Howdy-Pilgrim might be a better cop than we wanted to give him credit for. At least he stayed focusedandwas getting us to talk.
“Whatever bullshit you have planned, keep Stacey out of it.”
Or maybe not.
I snorted. “Wehaven’t planned a damned thing. Like you said, we were invited, just like you, though why she wants you involved, I haven’t a clue.” I glanced at Jen. “If I ever need a cop, don’t call him. I want one with at least half a brain.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if Stacey has a tumor that’s keeping her from kicking Officer Mikey here to the curb. Or maybe he’s dying, and she’s taken pity on him. There’s got to besomereason she lets him hang around. We know it’s not for the hot sex.”
Mikey flushed, his jaw hardening. Guess that struck a nerve.
“Why is it women always get blamed for believing they can change men, when men do it just as much, if not more? You’d think this jackass would want Stacey any way he could get her, but no, she’s not good enough for Sir Galahad the Prude. Talk about weapons-grade stupid. I’m surprised she bothers with him.”
“Like I said, maybe it’s a tumor.”
Jen didn’t respond. She was on a roll. “And he has the gall to think we are bad friends when we’re willing to hide the bodies, no questions asked. That’s the definition of a good friend. I swear, you should have gone the cockroach route when you had a chance.”
I cocked my head and considered Officer Peckersnot. “There’s still time.”
He curled his lip. “I’ve heard enough about your exploits to know Stacey would be better off without you dragging her into trouble. If you cared about her the way you say you do, you’d back off before you get her involved in something that lands her in jail.”
I barely resisted the urge to dump my tea all over him. Talk about arrogant.
Despite Aunty Mommy’s malicious efforts at getting rid of my girls, neither Lorraine, Stacey, or Jen ever thought about deserting me, even when I tried to push them away for their own good. The four of us had been through hell together. We’d die for each other; we’d bury bodies for each other. We were fucking family. Who did Officer Buttbreath think he was, to want to kick us out of Stacey’s life?
I practically snarled. “What could you possibly know about the four of us?”
“She told me about what you four did on your mother’s grave. If you’d been caught, all four of you would have been up on charges. Far as I can tell, you’ve been getting into trouble for most of your lives and dragging Stacey into it.”
