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“Thatcher Kelly, come in,” Georgia said, her most serious voice mocking me with each word.
I snatched it from the box, keyed the mic, and put the stupid thing to my lips.
“What the fuck is going on here, Georgia? And, yes, I can tell it’s you. Is Cassie with you?”
If she was, I was so fucked.
The silence went on too long, to the point that I got frustrated. “Answer me, goddammit.”
“You have to say ‘over’ so I know it’s my turn to talk. Over.”
“My patience is really fucking thin right now.” I paused for a second before squeezing my eyes tight and cursing to myself. “Over.”
She giggled.
“Goddammit, Georgia. I’m seriously five seconds from wringing your pretty little neck—”
“Watch yourself, you fucking prick,” Kline interrupted.
“Kline?” I asked. Jesus. What, were they all there mocking me?
“Yep,” Kline answered stonily thanks to my empty threat. He and I both knew I’d never manhandle Georgia in a way that could bring her harm. But fuck, I guess neither of us thought I’d turn into a stalker either.
Apparently unaware they had the mic still keyed, Georgia and Kline’s conversation played out into the otherwise silent air of my room.
“Kline! You have to say ‘over.’”
“I’m not saying ‘over,’” he told her, a smile evident in the lilt of his voice.
“Baby! You have to say it. That’s the only way Thatch knows it’s his turn to talk.”
“Where did you learn this shit?” Kline asked. But I could tell he was just barely holding back laughter.
“You know I was watching Dog the Bounty Hunter the other day—”
“Guys!” I interrupted on a shout, a shrill squeal ringing out at the moment my walkie-talkie tried to overpower theirs.
“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Come to your door,” Kline instructed.
Georgia couldn’t help herself, adding, “Over.”
I shook my head but charged back to the door nonetheless. Bonnie and Clyde were rounding the corner, twisted up in each other, smiles on their faces. I stepped outside, propping the door open with one big foot.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, and Kline knew I was addressing him directly.
His face was pseudo-serious as he directed, “Let’s talk inside. We don’t want to wake anyone up.”
“Oh, yeah,” I agreed on an unmistakable growl. “We wouldn’t want that.”
They sure hadn’t been worried about waking me up.
Kline raised his eyebrows, and knowing the son of a bitch could outwait me on nearly any fucking thing, I sighed deeply, pushed the door open, and waved for them to precede me.
Georgia smiled big and patted me on the face like a grandmother as she walked past, and Kline’s amusement couldn’t have gone unnoticed if I’d been in space.
As soon as the door shut, I took their walkie-talkie and tossed it across the room, so it bounced on the bed with a thump. Both sets of their eyes followed and then swung back to me, but their smiles never left their cute little faces.
“This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever been a part of,” I told Kline.
“And yet, I still look sane compared to you.”
They knew what I was doing. That much was clear. Now I just needed to figure out what the hell they intended to do about it.
“Don’t get too excited. That doesn’t mean much these days.” I scrubbed my hands up and down my face and then admitted with a hefty load of self-deprecation, “I’m stalking her, for fuck’s sake.”
“We know,” Georgia agreed with glee. “It’s fantastic.”
Two very separate, but equally important issues to be addressed, all in one little statement.
“How do you know?”
Kline tilted his head, and I sighed. Give him enough time, and he’ll figure motherfucking anything out.
“Okay. Fine. Next issue. Why the fuck do you think it’s fantastic? You want my baby to have an insane father?”
“It’s just so sweet,” Georgia swooned, and my eyebrows drew together.
Kline laughed and added, “In a totally fucked-up, illegal, mentally ill kind of way.”
Georgia sighed dreamily. “Yeah.”
“So, what? What now? Are you going to tell Cassie?” I looked right into Georgia’s eyes.
“Nope.”
“No?”
“I said ‘nope,’” she repeated, starting to get exasperated.
“Okay. Why not? I thought you’d be running to rat me out. Isn’t that what women do?”
“Easy, Killer,” Kline warned as Georgia’s face transformed with female affront.
