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??t Wanna Be Old finding an intruder in his living room—along with the current signals being sent by those peepers that Qhuinn was standing about ten feet away from him.

Next came the marching orders.

Which were kind of fun.

The man cleared his throat. And then started speaking into the phone calmly, his eyes locked on Qhuinn. “Oh, sorry. No, everything’s fine. Like I said, it’s just that malfunction again. But please, I’d like to have a technician out whenever is convenient. I’m happy to work around your schedule.”

As there was a pause, like the alarm company rep had been unprepared for the change in attitude, Qhuinn was glad he’d tacked on some polite shit as a public service. He had a feeling the guy was one of those self-made sonsabitches who was a fucking prick to people.

“Thanks,” the man said to the Jake from State Farm equivalent. “That’ll be great. And I really appreciate your help. Of course, I’d love to take your customer satisfaction survey. Just send it to my email. Thanks again. Bye.”

The human ended the call. Lowered the portable phone from his ear. And stood there like a robot waiting for instructions on whether he was cleaning the floor or about to do a load of laundry.

“Can I ask you something?” Qhuinn rolled his eyes at himself. “Stupid question. I could ask you for your bank accounts right now.”

“Do you need them? They’re on my computer upstairs.”

“Nah, I’m good. You paid me seven million for this place about a year ago.”

“I paid you? So this was your house.”

“My parents’, actually. How you likin’ the place?”

“It’s good. I like it fine. It needed updating.”

“Well, you’ve certainly left your mark on it.” Qhuinn indicated the phone, which was an old school cordless. “My question is, why you still got a landline, my guy? You don’t have the alarm wired into your cell? For like, the security feeds?”

The man’s shoulders drooped and he rolled his eyes. “My daughter threw my iPhone in the toilet tonight.”

“Bummer. How old is she?”

“Three.”

“Cool. Hey, do you know about the rice trick? You put the phone in a plastic baggie full of the stuff. It works. Or you could just buy another.”

“I’m going to get another one—”

“Ron?” a female voice called down. “Is someone there?”

As Qhuinn shook his head, “Ron” yelled back, “No. It’s just me on the phone with the alarm company. Go back to bed.”

“It’s cold,” came the petulant response. “You need to come back up here.”

Like good ol’ Ron was her electric blanket.

“Ron?” she repeated.

“Give me a minute, honey.” The tone was level, but the expression was tight, like he was gritting his molars. “I’ll be right there.”

“You know,” Qhuinn murmured, “I don’t envy your life, my guy.”

Ron took a deep breath and lowered his volume, too. “The three-year-old wants to sleep with us all the time. Susie had to get her mommy-tuck redone two weeks ago. And I think my partner is stealing from the firm.”

“Wow. When was the last time you got high?”

“Three hours ago. It’s the only way I can shut everything up.”

“So I was right.”


Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy