Fuck me.
A masked figure all in black stands in the doorway.
Thunder claps.
We scream.
“Girls!” Gran pulls the mask off. “This isn’t the ’70s. You’re not just going to sit around having a sleepover and crying over your boyfriend. We’re going to get proof, then we’re going to smear his name all over the internet of the unholy.”
“Isthis a bad time to tell you that I’m not actually pregnant?” Brinley grimaces.
“You’re not what?” I holler.
In the dark, a dog barks.
“Shh!” Kathy hisses. “Someone’s going to call the police.”
When I agreed to go break into Knox’s house to find evidence of an affair, I was thinking some distraction from Fitz wouldn’t be bad. Also, I might have overdone it on the wine and probably shouldn’t go straight to sleep.
Physical exertion is healthy.
Now, in the chilly misty rain, I’m regretting my decision.
I wish I was snuggled in bed.
Carolina hoists her boobs in the sexy police uniform costume. “I don’t know. I think these uniforms look pretty legit.”
“You look good in that hat,” Kathy coos.
I stumble. Probably should have foregone the sunglasses. “Okay, do you have the key, Brinley?”
“No,” she sniffs. “He didn’t give me one.”
“For fuck’s—”
“Bet he gave his mom one,” Kathy says darkly.
“Yeah, bet.”
“We’ll break a window.” Gran holds up a hatchet.
“There’s one of those electronic keypad lock things.” Kathy waves us to the side door.
“Try 36-34-38.”
The light flashes red.
“I bet it’s his birthday.”
“Try his jersey number three times?”
Nothing.
“Hammer time!”
“Gran, just hold on—” I have a sinking feeling.
I type in my birthday.
