“Asshole, my father keeps giving me shit about not making you feel welcomed and not inviting you out. I want him off my case.”
“Sounds like a personal problem,” I retort.
“If you don’t come, I’ll tell him about your little art project over here.” He points to the damaged plaster. “Do you honestly want to spend your Saturday night talking about your feelings with my father?”
I stop in my tracks, snarling like a wild animal.
Josh smirks, folding his arms across his chest. “Let’s go. We leave now. It’s only the guys tonight.”
Just what I fucking need.
Five minutes later, I grudgingly walk with Josh to his truck. It’s a little after ten.
“You and Danny play nice tonight, okay?”
“I’m not making any promises.”
“Figures,” he grumbles, getting into his truck.
“What are we doing tonight? Raiding the Depends’ stash at a nursing home?”
“Very funny.” He gives me the finger.
“Well, you know me, always the jokester.”
“You’re not opposed to grand theft auto, are you?”
“What type of shit are you assholes going to get into tonight?”
“Just a little joyriding.” Josh winks.
“Whatever.”
Josh parks in front of a medium-sized house about thirty minutes later.
“Where are we?” I peer around the residential neighborhood.
“Zeke’s house.”
“I’m not going in there.”
I know blood is going to spill if I go in that motherfucker’s house.
“I’m not either. Our ride is almost here.”
Zeke, Trevor, and Dex emerge from the house when an old white van parks behind Josh’s truck.
“We’re joyriding in that piece of shit?”
Josh laughs. “Not in the least. That piece of shit is going to get us to our destination.”
He pulls a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and holds them out to me.
“The van is stolen. If you don’t want your fingerprints left at the scene of the crime, I suggest you wear them,” he says.
I take the offered gloves before exiting the truck.
I force my hands into the small pair of gloves. “My hands can barely fit in these tiny fucking gloves.”
