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Connor
By the way, you’re out of your little coffee cup things.
I was so not out of coffee. I’d just got to the store a few days before.
Swear to God, if that man took all my coffee, I wasn’t just going to kill him. I was going to kill him, then bring him back so I could junk-punch him.
I began storming into the kitchen, only to freeze when I remembered his words about another payback.
Letting only my gaze shift to find any other threats around me, I finally tiptoed the rest of the way to the kitchen. Opening the cupboard that held all the K-cups, I found two unopened boxes as well as one that was opened. I hadn’t moved them, Connor knew where they were, and I no longer trusted him or my coffee.
After investigating for anything suspicious and finding my K-cups to be safe, I brought one down and put it in the Keurig before going through the same process in the mug cabinet.
Grabbing the handle of the mug closest to me, I took a deep breath in and pulled the mug out, prepared for something to be behind it.
But there was nothing.
And as I stood there staring into my cabinet, I wondered if there even was anything else. I wouldn’t put it past Connor to say that just to make me paranoid about my entire apartment.
With a heavy sigh, I started sliding the mug into the slot on the machine when I saw it. A scream that rivaled the one I’d had for the clown filled my apartment as the mug crashed to the floor, breaking off a giant piece of the mug as a tarantula spilled out.
“Not okay. Not okay. Connor,” I screamed as I jumped onto my counter and kept pointing at where it was. “Connor, help!”
When a few minutes passed without any sign from Connor or movement from the ginormous spider, I slid off the counter and opened the drawer closest to me. Grabbing the tongs, I walked closer and had to try three times before I could make my arm go far enough to touch the now obviously plastic tarantula.
This meant war.
Running to my pantry, I grabbed a trash bag and opened it up before using the tongs to deposit the disgusting, eight-legged beast in there, along with the two pieces of what had been my favorite mug.
When the rest of the micro-shards were swept up and thrown out, I went to my knife block and took out the massive chef’s knife before creeping back to my living room. An icy chill ran down my spine seeing the back of the clown because I just knew that little bitch was about to come to life any second and turn around on me. With a couple deep, calming breaths, I mentally pumped myself up for what I knew I had to do and charged the clown with a war cry, slashing furiously until it deflated into a pile on my floor.
After I returned the knife to the block, I grabbed the tongs and put Bozo the heart-attack-inducing clown in the trash bag too.
Still in my towel, I stormed over to Connor’s apartment with my key ring in hand. As soon as I saw the bastard, I fully intended on punching him in the throat, throwing the trash bag at him, and then running back to the safety of my apartment.
But when I got to his door, there was another note with my name on the front.
No, I won’t help you with the big ugly spider.
If you made it this far without dying, I’m proud of you.
Did you really think I was stupid enough to stick around and suffer your wrath?
Yes. Yes, I had. I’d also been wrong about him being the mature one.
I went back to my apartment completely defeated and exhausted, even though I’d only been awake for an hour, and there was no way in hell I was about to check the rest of my coffee mugs to see if they were safe.
Grabbing my phone, I dialed the office’s number and waited until someone answered.
“Yep?”
My eyes rolled. “You know, if I can’t answer the phone with a yep, then you shouldn’t be able to either.”
There was a beat of silence. “Are you on your way in, Maci?”
“Pfft, no. I have things I need to get done today,” I said as I grabbed underwear and a pair of jeans and started dressing.
“Like what?” my brother asked, equally irritated and intrigued. “We need you here answering the phone.”
