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“What do you want?”
“To talk,” I grunt.
“Go away, Tag. I don’t want to see or talk to you.”
“Let me in, or so help me God…”
“You’ll what?” she challenges. “You’re just mad I caught you. That says a lot more about you than it does about me.”
“Don’t wanna fuckin’ argue out on the street, now let me up now!” I bellow.
“And I saidfuck you, Thomas.”
She hangs up, and I see red. Anger flashes through me as I dig out my keys.
Fuck her if she thinks I can’t fuckin’ come in here whenever the hell I please. All I fuckin’ want is to explain and make sure she’s okay. Why does she have to be so difficult?
I use the key, then as expected, the alarm is set, so I punch my overriding code in the panel before it has a chance to go off.
Staring up at the ceiling, I turn to shut and lock the door behind me.
I stomp up the stairs. Destination: her bedroom.
It’s as neat and fuckin’ tidy as I’d expect. Nothing is out of place. At least she’s not living like a slob, I guess.
The carpet on the stairs is probably plush, but since I stomp my boots on them, I’ll never get to find out.
I make my way up the hallway, and without even knocking, I barge into the room with the light shining from under the door and our eyes meet.
She yelps and jumps up from her pillows, ready to swing, then she realizes it’s me. “Tag? What the fuck! You almost gave me a heart attack!”
I can only stand in the doorway and stare at her.
She has on fuzzy pajamas, a bowl of ice cream in her hands, and the TV is blaring out some goddamn trashy reality show.
“Should’ve just let me in like I asked.”
She wobbles the bowl onto the side table and points at me. “Get the fuck out!”
“No.” I move closer, and she slinks back into the pillows.
“How the hell did you get in here?” she breathes.
Well, there’s a good explanation, but I’m not sure that she wants to hear it right now.
“That isn’t important right now. What’s important is you shut the fuck up and let me speak.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say,” she says, her tone haughty. “This is breaking and entering, Tag. That’s a felony.”
“Not when I own the house.”
Her eyes go round. “What?”
Shit.
“You… You do not own this house… my father…” she trails off. Then her hands raise to her mouth as she gasps. “You didn’t…”
“That isn’t important right now. I need you to know I didn’t fuck that chick.”
