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“Fucking hell.” I pass her the keys and tell her the code. Alaska smiles and walks out the door. “Don’t corrupt her.” Zuko hides his laugh at my words. “I don’t know what to do with Kalilah.”
“Well, for starters… Try not dropping her on her face again.”
“Now, that’s some great advice. Not,” I say.
“You should ask Kenzo for advice,” he tells me.
“He’s always busy.”
“We all are. Ask him,” he orders me.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I reply as I head out.
“Don’t kill her…yet,” he calls out.
“I make no promises,” I yell back before closing the door.
Eight
Kalilah
She has red hair and is loud.
And bossy.
She storms in like she owns the place but also seems to have never been here. I’m not sure what to make of it. Or what to say. She eyes me like she’s trying to work me out, and not in a good way. At least, I don’t think so.
“I’m Alaska, and you are not what I was expecting. How old are you?” she asks, eyeing me.
“Twenty-three,” I answer.
“Well, okay, I assumed younger. It’s good to know you’re at least legal, and I don’t have to go and beat his ass.”
“You could do that? Beat his ass?” I ask, surprised.
Alaska’s hand lands on her hip, and she smiles at me. “I’m dating his older brother, so of course I can.” She smirks. “I kick his ass when he annoys me too.”
She walks to the living room, drops onto the couch, and turns the television on. “So, why are you here?” she asks.
I stand there awkwardly for a moment before I join her in the living room.
“He forced me to be here,” I inform her.
“Hmm…” Alaska eyes me. “I didn’t take you for his type, but I could be wrong.”
“I am not his type. I’ve seen his ex… We look nothing alike.” I push my brown hair behind my ear before I take a seat. “Plus, he’s an absolute ass to me,” I add.
“Yeah, I have a feeling that’s how Kyson is.” Alaska smiles as she tucks her legs under her ass and puts on some reality television. I briefly wonder how Kyson will feel about Alaska’s shoes being on the cream sofa, but then hide a smirk, thinking he’ll probably have a heart attack if there are any stains on the fabric.
We sit here for a good hour or two before Kyson arrives home. He takes one look at us and shakes his head before he walks over and grabs the remote from Alaska. She hits him on the back of the head after she gets up, tells me goodbye, and leaves.
Disappointingly, there’s not a single remark about shoes being on the furniture.
“You getting people to watch me now?” I ask Kyson as he changes the channel. He puts on a movie—an action-adventure—and doesn’t even spare me another glance.
Nancy has been floating around all day, but I didn’t bother her while Alaska was here. Now, I get up and leave him to his movie, walking into the kitchen to find Nancy humming as she cooks. She smiles when she sees me and offers me a cupcake she baked.
“Can I ask you something?” I question in a quiet tone, running my fingers along the stone island. Nancy nods her head. “Why do you work here if he killed your husband?”
