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“You can’t call a kid an asshole—”

Smack!

The kid, no, the asshole, grins evilly at me. She whacked me in the forehead. Mean little shit. Sully’s laughter grates on my nerves.

“You’re a brat,” I say to her, bitterness in my tone.

She sticks her tongue out at me before turning and scampering off the bed. I track her movement until she’s standing in front of Sully. Unperturbed by her rude behavior, he signs something to her. She signs back.

“What’s she saying?” I ask, sitting up on my elbows.

“That you’re better looking than me but dumber.”

“What the fuck?”

“Get used to it,” he says with a shrug. “She’s a monster.”

The girl—seemingly innocent with her chin-length golden-blond hair and tiny frame—shoots me a menacing look, baring her teeth at me.

“What did Scout get us into?” I grumble.

“Same shit he’s always getting us into. Something way over our heads.”

“Have you seen him this morning or…” Her. I leave that part off, but he knows.

He nods. “The door’s unlocked and they’re sleeping. She’s not tied up or anything.”

“I slept like shit last night.”

“Same. Too much fucking worrying.”

Worry and shame for the position we’ve put Landry infects my every cell. I hate how this feels. This is why I fuck chicks, not fall for them. Falling sucks. It’s messy.

Della slips out of the room and I wonder if we should go after her. I know shit about kids. I’m not sure if she’s at the age they get into everything or if she’s self-sufficient. It’s irritating that we’re in this position to begin with.

“By now, her dad’s probably going crazy with worry,” I mutter, reaching for the television remote. “I just don’t get how Landry ran away and ended up on our doorstep. Scout was meddling behind our backs. It’s disturbing.”

Sully scoffs. “His meddling is disturbing? How about the fact we’re now accomplices to kidnapping? That shit is disturbing. I’m just waiting for the Amber Alert for Della to come through on our phones.”

I flip on the TV and hunt for a local news station. Sully sits on the bed while we wait for any news on their disappearance. Nothing. No Amber Alerts or press conference or anything.

“Seems out of character for him not to report them missing.” I snap the TV off and slide out of the bed to throw on some jeans. “We’ve only got part of the story. I want to hear the rest.”

“Good luck getting it out of Scout. He’s cryptic when he wants to be.”

“We’ll find out from Landry exactly what happened so we’ll know what we’re working with.”

Sully sighs heavily and rubs at the back of his neck. “This ends with one or all of us going to prison. I thought about it last night. That prick isn’t going to roll over and take the fact his girls have left him. He’s too damn controlling and arrogant for that.”

“Which means he’s going to dissect every interaction she’s had with anyone she’s come in contact with.” I frown at this thought. “How long until he pieces together that Ford was a fraud and start sniffing our way?”

“Not long,” Sully admits. “And then Alexander will rope in the Constantines because that’s our shit luck.”

The thought of Winston aiding in that asshole’s quest to get his daughters back is nauseating. Winston, if he finds out we’re involved, will do everything in his power to help Alexander. He’ll see it as a way to take out the trash permanently.

“We could try and get Bryant to help,” Sully says, “but he’s such a dick. He’ll be pissed we disobeyed a direct order to stay away from Landry.”

We’re so fucked.

“Yeah, we’re not involving Bryant,” I grumble. “Maybe we can just load up the girls, drive them across the state, and dump them off at the Canadian border.”

Sully stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Great plan, dipshit. Because the authorities won’t be waiting there at all.”

“We’ll figure something else out.” It’s not like I was actually keen on the grand idea of dumping them anywhere. No, my best idea involves taking Landry and her sister away, but keeping her safe. Never letting her go.

Heathen bursts into the room, wailing out her usual warnings. Della chases after her, following her right into my open closet. The cat must find someplace to hide because Della comes back out, arms crossed over her chest and pouting. With her blond hair messy from sleep and her bottom lip jutting out, even I have to admit the brat is cute.

She signs something to Sully. I glance over at him, hoping for an interpretation. He frowns at her and signs something back.

The kid huffs in exasperation and then slowly signs, like Sully is too dumb to keep up. When she finishes, she throws her hands up in question.

“She wants to know if the maid will cook her something to eat.”


Tags: K. Webster Deception Duet Dark