Bishop's gaze drifted downward. He paused. His gaze shifted to me.
I shrugged. It wasn't my fault the box was unwrapped.
Brittney made a pouty face. "Your floor's cold. This sucks."
I looked down. Bare ass, tile floor. No doubt, itdidsuck. "Right," I said.
"And besides," she slurred, "I can't go. I'm all locked out. Like with deadbolts and everything."
"Yeah?" Bishop said, looking amused as hell. "Don't worry. We'll get you back in."
She squinted up at him. "How?"
Bishop and I exchanged a glance. Deadbolts wouldn't stop us. Neither would the roommate or whatever guests she might have. We'd done this before.
"Let us worry about that," I said.
Five minutes later, Brittney was asleep in the back seat of my darkest sedan. She was still sleeping an hour after that, when we tucked her, dress and all, into her own bed, inside her own apartment. The place was dark, but not dark enough to hide the truth.
The place was a shithole.
On the living room sofa, we spotted the roommate, a frizzy-haired blonde who, judging from the looks of her, either had a hardcore drug problem or a major eating disorder. Maybe both. She was snoring and naked with some pot-bellied guy who might've been her boyfriend, or her grandfather, judging from his age.
The floor surrounding them was littered with empty beer cans and piles of snack wrappers – candy, chips, whatever. I spotted a cat dish, but no cat. Probably hiding.
The nicest room in the whole place was Brittney's bedroom, which was surprisingly clean and decorated in girlie-girl fashion, with lots of pillows, ruffles, and lace. Hell, even the bed had been made – until we'd tucked Brittney into it.
For some reason, the whole scene had made me sad, and just a little sorry for Brittney in spite of her bitchiness.
The drive back to my place was mostly silent. Bishop and I were only half-brothers – same dad, different moms. But Brittney's place had hit too close to home. We'd grown up worse, but turned out better. How? Or why? Who knows?
I didn't want to think about it. I wanted to forget.
Maybe Chloe was part of that – something untouched by the ugliness that I'd grown up with. I wanted to keep it that way.
I fell asleep a couple of hours before dawn, and woke too soon, to the sounds of my cell phone ringing. I reached out and answered it with a sleepy, "Yeah?"
It was Amber. "I just got your message," she said. "You sounded mad. Is something wrong?"
It was still dark. I lay back against the pillow. "Nah. Something came up. But it's over. Not a big deal."
"What was it?" she asked.
"Nothing important." Brittney could tell her. Or not. I was done with it. "I've gotta go, alright?"
"Wait," she said. "First, I've got to tell you something."
"Yeah? What?"
"Remember the thing we talked about?" I heard a smile in her voice. "It's all set. It's going to be awesome. You'll totally love it."
What was she talking about? I had no idea. I checked the time. I'd been asleep for just over an hour. "Sounds good," I said. "Catch you later, okay?"
I disconnected the call and pushed myself up. I didn't bother trying to fall back asleep.
Sleep was a problem. It had been a problem for as long as I could remember. Back in the old neighborhood, I'd slept with one eye open and a weapon within easy reach.
Now, I didn't have to. But I still did. By habit? Who knows.
