Page 8 of Unexpected Complication

“What?”

“Well, maybe only a few of them are drugged, and you’re betting I choose the un-drugged ones for you.”

“How the fuck does that make any sense?”

“Don’t swear at me! It’s rude!”

“You swear at me all the time! Just eat the fucking sandwiches!” I roared.

“No!”

Beyond furious, I grabbed one of the cut sandwiches and took a bite. Then I grabbed the next one and took a bite of it. I kept going until each one had a bite out of it, chewing and swallowing rapidly as I went.

“See? They’re all fucking fine. Now eat them!”

“Well, that was unnecessary. Rather disgusting too—now your DNA is all over them.”

I let my head fall forward, and I used the end of the gun to rub my aching temples. This girl was gonna be the death of me. “Eat the sandwiches, Skylar.”

I heard movement and opened my eyes. She bent forward, lifting a sandwich off the plate and slowly bringing it to her mouth. I got great satisfaction as I watched her bite and chew, her eyes fluttering closed as she swallowed. I knew she was hungry.

Her eyes opened, and she blushed as she saw me watching her. Without thinking, I flicked the gun in her direction. “Keep eating.”

Her already-pale face became ghostly. With a grimace, I shoved the gun down the small of my back. “Sorry,” I offered. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

She lifted her head haughtily. “I’m not scared of you.”

I laughed, knowing how much of a lie that was. “You should be. Don’t forget that.”

I lifted the can of Coke and offered it to her, frowning when she shook her head. “Why? It’s in a can. I can’t drug it in the damn can!”

“You could put something on the lid.”

I stood. “You watch too much fucking TV.”

She snorted. “I’m homeless, fuckwit. We don’t carry flat-screens with us.”

My lips quirked. Did she really just call me fuckwit? That was one of my favorite expressions.

“You have quite the potty mouth on you for such a little lady.”

She shrugged as she took another bite of sandwich. “You should talk, buddy.”

Walking to the bathroom, I ran the can under the water in the sink and flicked a towel off the rack, making a show of drying it. I handed it back to her. “There. Drug-free.”

She struggled to pop the top, and with a groan of impatience, I grabbed the can away from her and opened it. “Can or glass?”

“Glass.”

I poured the contents over the ice and slid the glass toward her. She took a deep swallow and sighed in satisfaction. She tilted the glass back and drained it. Obviously, she was thirsty too.

Before I could ask her if she wanted more, she belched. A long, loud burp that burst from her chest with no warning. Her eyes widened, her cheeks darkening as her hand covered her mouth. “Excuse me,” she mumbled.

“Nice.” I chuckled as I stood. “Ladylike—just as I expected from you.”

I walked toward the door, satisfied she would eat and knowing she would relax more if I was out of the room. Unable to resist, I paused as I walked out.

“Skylar?”