Page 133 of The Fake Out

I pressed the cell phone to my ear. “Go on.”

“The car won’t start.”

“Where are you?” She named a town thirty minutes away. “Why are you there? It’s after midnight. Which I seem to remember is your curfew.”

“Suggested curfew.”

“It’s amazing how you hear things so much differently than me.”

She sighed. “I need your help. Please.”

I resisted the urge to squeal with delight. Please? Oh, my. She was desperate.

“I’m on my way.”

Thirty minutes later, I pulled into the empty parking lot of a steakhouse and found Iris sitting on the hood of Mama’s car. I pulled in next to her. The parking lot was otherwise empty.

“Why are we in a steakhouse parking lot at one in the morning?”

Iris hopped down from the hood. “Because this is where I work.”

“What?” I stumbled climbing out of my car. “When did you get a job? You never said anything.”

She rolled her eyes. “Keeping secrets must be a family trait.”

To say Iris had taken the news of Dad’s involvement poorly was an understatement and somehow I was the one she’d decided to take it out on. She refused to talk about it at all except in a passing snide comment. It was exhausting. Normal Iris was a lot to handle; Angry Iris was taking your life in your hands if you dared approach her.

“What do you do here?” I asked, turning to look at the low brown building.

“I’m a server.”

I blinked. “You mean, for customers?”

“Yes. I’ve been here almost a year.”

“That’s why you’re late all the time? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I knew you’d be all ‘School is your job, blah, blah, blah.’”

“Was that supposed to be an imitation of me?” I arched an eyebrow. “Because it sucked.”

“Well, you suck,” Iris shot back.

I took a deep, calming-ish breath. “Go pop the hood so we can jump the car and get out of here.”

“Whatever.” Iris stomped to the driver’s side and practically tore the door open. “How do I pop the hood?”

“Seriously?”

“Just tell me, okay?” she snapped. “It’s not like I had a dad to show me how to do this stuff.”

Ouch. I crossed my arms. “Okay. Are we doing this now? Fine. Let’s do it. I get it. You hate me.”

She threw her arms in the air and yelled to the stars. “I don’t hate you, you idiot. I hate him. I hate that I’m related to him. I really hate that he tried to hurt one of the most important people in my life.”

I gaped at her.

Iris swung around to face me, her face red. “You know what else? I haven’t seen him in so long I can’t even make an accurate replica for a voodoo doll. And that Pisses. Me. Off. I hate that you and Mom kept so many things from me. You didn’t trust that I was mature enough to know what kind of person he is. I’m almost an adult and I’m smarter than you think.” She stalked closer. “I knew about your job at Chicky’s.”