“What?” I asked. “Too soon?”
“Yes. Until I forget what her warm shit on my legs feels like, it will be too soon.”
Dice made a gagging sound, and I shook my finger at him. “You weren’t here to see it in real time, so you don’t get to gag.”
“You didn’t see it either,” Daphne pointed out.
“No, but I heard it and smelled it. On that note, how in the bloody hell did something so little produce that much of something so wretched? I’m seriously asking. That was a lot of poo she sprayed on you.”
Dice was chuckling in the kitchen while Daphne was shaking with silent laughter, which is what I wanted. Sometimes a little humor was all that was needed to make a stressful situation bearable.
“All right,” I said. “My work here is done.”
“Hold up. You don’t usually come over this late anymore. Did you need something?” Daphne asked.
“Oh, I’d just gotten home from Presley’s and wanted to see how Macy was.”
“She’s doing okay, all things considered. She’s going to be sore for the next few days,” Dice said.
“Presley said you had a somewhat cryptic conversation with her at the hospital today and asked me what you meant. I assumed you were referring to the little wanker we disarmed at the diner last year, and that she might be a target if she’s been seen with me.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Why? What did she think I meant?” he asked, sounding worried.
“She didn’t have a clue what you meant. I explained what I thought, but I wanted to check with you and make sure I was right.”
Daphne laughed. “You two practically share the same brain. Why was there any doubt?”
“No one asked you, poopy pants,” I teased.
Daphne lifted London into the air and aimed her rear end toward me. “Careful, I’m armed and dangerous.”
“I’ve seen the damage she can do. I’m out,” I said and headed for the door. “Seriously though, call me if you need something. I don’t care what time it is.”
“Thanks, man.”
As I walked into my empty house, I realized that the chaos I’d just experienced was far better than the silence that greeted me.
13
PRESLEY
The next day, I spent most of the morning taking my mother to get her hair done. She couldn’t drive, and Dad and Miles were busy with another one of her projects, so that left me. Normally, I would have been happy to do it, but I was nervous about the detective’s visit and would have preferred to be at home preparing.
When I got back to my house, I only had an hour and a half before the detective was supposed to come over. Normally, there wasn’t a lot to do before an impromptu guest, but there was something about Detective Coleman I didn’t like. As such, I wanted to put away anything I thought gave away too much information about our lives—pictures, school accolades, our favorite takeout menus on the side of the fridge. I knew I was being paranoid, but self-awareness didn’t change anything.
The doorbell rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. When I looked at the time, I frowned. It was too early for the detective. Tiptoeing through the house, I peeked out the front window and exhaled in relief when I saw Ink standing on my porch.
“You scared the crap out of me,” I said when I opened the door.
“How? I didn’t do anything,” he said.
I stepped to the side and gestured for him to come in. “The doorbell startled me, and I had a moment of panic because I thought the detective was early. I had to sneak through the house to get to the window to see who it was.”
“The next time something like that happens, look at the camera feed to see who’s at your door. You should have an app on your phone.”
“Oh, I didn’t think about that. It’s still new to me,” I admitted, feeling a little foolish.
“It’s only been a few days. You’ll get used to it,” he said and looked around the room. “Where are your pictures and things?”
