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‘My parents are dead,’ Murphy replied stonily.
‘What’d you do, kill them for their retirement fund?’ I thought it was funny.
Murphy didn’t seem overly amused, though. He seemed antsy. I wondered if he was actually worried about what she’d say when he got back to the car. She looked like she’d probably beat him up or something.
‘She’s fucking crazy,’ Murphy replied. ‘Lucky she gives good head.’
I expected him to approach me, to do something, but he didn’t. He walked past the living room, holding a paper bag in one hand, a pair of aviator sunglasses in the other. I reached underneath the couch cushion, quickly locating my gun and flicking the safety off before I hurried into the hallway after him. He strode into the kitchen, dumping the paper bag on the counter as I raised my gun and aimed at him.
I had a gun now. I was allowed to have a gun, and it was because of Murphy. It was something Dornan had given me, not long after Murphy had tried to rape me on the dining room floor. Murphy had even brought a syringe full of drugs to make sure I complied. Dornan had beaten him almost to death. The only reason he hadn’t was because of John pulling him off Murphy and talking sense into him. Truth be told, I wished that he’d just let Dornan finish the guy off.
Murphy turned and raised his eyebrows in amusement, tossing his sunglasses on the counter. ‘Oh, put that away,’ he said, pandering, his smile wide but his crazy blue eyes devoid of warmth. He rounded the counter and began opening cupboards and drawers, pulling out cutlery and napkins like he knew the place intimately.
I didn’t relax my aim. ‘What do you want, Murphy?’ I asked impatiently. ‘’Cause I’m kind of busy right now.’
He looked around. ‘Busy doing what?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Staring at the walls.’
He didn’t respond.
I cringed as a streak of blood threaded out of one of his nostrils and down over his lip.
‘Did the rest of your brain cells just explode?’ I asked, gesturing towards his nose.
‘I get nosebleeds,’ he shrugged, wiping his arm across his face and creating a bright red line of blood on his white shirt. ‘It’s the heat.’ He pressed a napkin to his nose to staunch the bleeding.
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Uh, I think it’s all the coke you put up there.’ Idiot.
He looked unperturbed. Satisfied that the blood had stopped, he threw the napkin in the trash and washed his hands in the kitchen sink.
‘What is this?’ I gestured to him as the smell of Chinese food hit me.
‘Here,’ Murphy said, taking several boxes from the bag and placing them on the bench. ‘I got your favourite. Egg rolls and lo mein.’
How the fuck did he know what my favourite Chinese takeout was? I was about to issue some witty retort when I swallowed my words. Egg rolls and lo mein was my favourite. Sometimes Dornan would surprise me with it.
He hadn’t done it in a very long time.
‘You brought dinner?’ I asked, my tone scathing. ‘You want to date me or something, Murphy? While your girlfriend waits in the car?’
He grinned, his tongue sliding across his top teeth as he chuckled. ‘I don’t think you’re exactly dateable, honey. Fuckable? Yes. Dateable? Debateable!’
He laughed at his own ridiculous joke, and that made me mad. It made me livid.
Still grasping the gun, I crossed my arms, rooted to the spot in the hallway. Murphy continued to dig through my kitchen drawers, clattering plates and assembling spoons next to each cardboard container.
I won’t lie, my mouth was watering. I wanted to shoot that motherfucker dead in my kitchen and step over his bloody corpse, just to eat that takeout.
‘Eat,’ Murphy commanded.
I stood my ground.
‘Tell me why you’re here,’ I repeated. ‘Tell me why your crazy girlfriend knows about my son.’
He took his plate, loaded with steaming hot food, and shovelled a spoonful of lo mein into his mouth. Seemed our Murphy was too retarded to eat with chopsticks. No great surprise there. He started walking towards me, towards the living room. Fuck that. When he was within arm’s reach, I raised my gun towards him again.
I pressed the barrel into his forehead, stopping him in his tracks. ‘I. Will. Shoot. You.’ I said through gritted teeth.
