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Damien: That girl does not stop complaining.
Hunter: Which one? Kristen or Brittany?
Damien: Ha! Ha! Both actually. I’m hungry and you owe me some serious pancakes and bacon.
Hunter: I think you complain too much and nobody gets compensated for that.
Damien: How’s your little BFF?
Of course he was going to ask about her. I carried her out of the party over my shoulder like a caveman trophy.
Hunter: Taylor Jane is sound asleep. She hurled good last night. She won’t need any yoga for her abs.
Damien: Good, wake her ass up. She’ll be hangry. Kristen won’t stop badgering me about checking on her cause somebody turned their little phone off...
Hunter: Please tell me you’re not coming over here with her.
Damien: Not if you hustle to the precinct, sunshine. See you in 30.
Hunter: Why are you at the police station?
I was afraid to ask.
Damien: The long or short version? And no, I didn’t do anything this time.
Hunter: Wait, what the fuck?
I dialed Damien’s number, and he picked up right away. “Tell me why you’re at the police station and it better not be because of some jailbait.”
“Only if her name is Kristen.”
“Jesus Christmas, you two are going to be the death of me. Can’t you ever act like adults?” My fingers pressed against the pulsing in my head. Damien was lucky I wasn’t the hungover one. “You know what, never mind.” I’d answered my own question when Taylor Jane moaned into her pillow and I rubbed her back gently. My hand caught in her hair and I rubbed the soft spot where her head and neck connected. “Not you, baby.”
Her breath muffled between listening to Damien and Kristen argue in the background as he told her to simmer down. It earned him an injury somewhere based on the yell he projected into the phone.
“Hey, it wasn’t my fault. Ow! Woman! Stop it!”
I heard more yelling and obviously Damien was fending her off, or attempting to.
“I find that hard to believe. I leave the two of you alone for one night and… shit, what happened?”
“Kristen might have gotten apeshit crazy on your ex Brittany. She started talking shit about TJ, and Kristen lost it.”
My head couldn’t take this level of drama so early in the morning.
“What did Kristen say?” I hated myself for asking because at this point it didn’t matter what was said.
“Something to the effect of Brit being the town bicycle and everyone taking a ride on her.” Damien laughed and if I thought about it, it was pretty funny, except I was certain there was an insult in there aimed at me to.
“Do I need to bring bail money or call her mother?” Mrs. Calloway was a lawyer and on her way to being a local judge. She would be insanely pissed, a likely source for Kristen’s own hot temper. I’d never understand how Kristen was her daughter.
“Nope, just a ride. That needle-dick cop wouldn’t let me take her home on account of me being a little drunk, so he brought her to the precinct to sleep it off while he worked the desk inside, motherfucker.”
“You seem bothered by this?”
“Asshole made me bum a ride to get down here. Let me tell you, Andy is one grumpy dude after he closes the bar and goes to bed.”
“Huh,” was all I said.
