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There was a sound of footsteps running to the door before it opened. A girl stood there, barefoot, hair up in one hand, shorts low on her hips, and a tank top that was barely covering her breasts. It’d been pushed up, and sitting there, right on her bare stomach was a handprint. A white handprint, tan all around it.
The girl frowned. “What? Who are you?” She saw Hawk’s badge, then her Taser, and her eyes got even bigger. “I thought you were my tan girl.”
I didn’t ask. I pushed in, ignoring her and saying as Hawk followed me, “Where’s Tabatha?”
“Wha—hey!” She tried to get in front of us, blocking us from the house. Too late. We were already inside, and as her shoulders fell, she asked, “Who are you?”
“Just tell me where she is.”
“No.” Her hand let go of her hair and it came tumbling down, falling past her shoulders. “We have an event tonight and you need to leave, whoever you are. I’ll let Tabatha know she had two people asking for her, but she’s not here—”
“Who’s at the door…” Tabatha’s voice rang out from the second floor, alerting us before she appeared, standing at the bannister. Her voice trailed off, seeing us. “Oh.”
Oh?
That’s not what I expected to hear.
I moved past the girl, heading for the stairs.
“Hey! No. You can’t go up there.”
Tabatha wasn’t saying anything.
The door girl was trying to get in front of me again, in front of Hawk, too, since she was behind me. “Tabatha, get to your room. You two, stop!”
Tabatha sighed. “Just let ’em up. I should’ve gone to see her anyway.”
That really wasn’t the response I expected from Tabatha.
Door Girl paused, frowning up. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” Tabatha waved toward me as I was nearing the top of the stairs. “She’s Jordan’s family.”
“Oh.” Door Girl stepped to the side, all the fight leaving her. A flash of remorse filled her eyes instead, and she bit down on her bottom lip. Adjusting her top so it was firmly bunched under her breasts, the doorbell rang at that moment and she looked back to it. “I–that’s for me.”
“Go.” Tabatha nodded, her tone gentle. “I’ve got this.”
“You sure?” The girl hadn’t moved from her step. Her concern was clear.
“Yeah.” Tabatha’s voice was more firm. “I’m good. Promise.”
Door Girl gave her a look, widening her eyes. “Call if you need anything, anything. I mean it.”
“I will.”
The doorbell rang again.
“Go. Fix your tan line.”
The girl groaned before hurrying back down the stairs. “That’s what I get for crashing after a full night of studying. And we have the Zeta Kappa Mingle tonight, too.” Right before the door, she snapped back, pointing at Tabatha. “Don’t forget the green dress for tonight.”
“Got it.”
The door opened and we heard voices below, but I tuned them out. Tabatha was staring at me now, a sadness so strong that I started to feel it. She said quietly, “What Jordan told you wasn’t the total truth.” Her eyes flicked to Hawk, lingered, narrowing, and her head moved back an inch. “You brought backup for me?” She was fully taking in all of Hawk now. “A Taser gun? You a cop?”
Hawk snorted, stepping closer to me. “I’m thinking you don’t need the restraining you thought you did.”
Yeah. I was getting that vibe, too.
I gave her a small nod. “I can call for a ride. You can take off if you want.”
She nodded back, giving Tabatha a long look. “Not what I thought I was getting myself into this afternoon. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Five again?”
Please, God, no.
She started for the stairs, but flashed me a grin. “Eight this time. You’re in charge of coffees. I’ll text you the list in the morning.”
Coffees. I could do that.
Then I thought about it. I was their intern girl. I was the rookie. My mouth twitched. A part of me enjoyed that, for some reason. It felt… normal?
I’d never felt normal.
It was nice.
Tabatha started down the hallway and turned back at a door. Seeing me still standing by the stairs, she motioned with her head in a room. “You coming?”
I followed.
Her room was large, and sunny. Her windows went up and folded back, becoming half skylights. She had two, facing out over another large house next to them. A dresser was set between the two windows. A closet with sliding doors was on one side. Her desk was against her wall, just beyond the door when it was opened. In the middle of the room, facing the windows, was her bed. Two nightstands on either side of it.
As I stepped farther inside, she closed the door and disappeared into a door behind it.
It was a small bathroom. She looked like she had just enough space to stand inside.
Her voice called from inside, “I’m surprised it took you this long to come over.”
