Page 210 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter
“Should we call the police?” I ask, leaning forward between the seats.
“And what happens if they blame it on us?” Carter snaps. “The police already think she has something to do with her mom…”
Fuck. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “On top of all of this shit, I forgot about that.”
“Of course you did,” Oliver says in a low voice. “You only care about fucking Sydney.”
He continues in Spanish and completely loses me, but I do catch cullero. Asshole.
Well, I’m not about to bare my soul to them when they’re pissed at me. If I did that, they’d just have ammo to use against me later. I know how Oliver works… I can imagine Carter has the same mode of operation.
Most assholes pull from the same playbook.
So instead of letting the guilt over forgetting about her mom—temporarily, for fuck’s sake—I say, “I happen to enjoy her body. And if it gets her mind off of things for a while, who am I to take that from her?”
“Her mind’s not what’s getting off,” Carter mutters.
“All hail King Carter, the saint of the group,” I snap. “Like you didn’t rent an apartment across from her building to spy on her.”
Oliver chokes. “What?”
“Oh, did he not tell you?” I cross my arms. “He’s a stalker.”
“I just wanted to keep an eye on her,” Carter mumbles. The tips of his ears turn red.
“He copied her key,” I add. “I at least break in the old-fashioned way.”
Oliver’s wheezing now. “Are you telling me you’ve both been breaking into her apartment…?”
Carter shrugs. “I mean… Penn’s been fucking her while she sleeps, but I’ve just been watching her.”
The wheezing stops. I lower myself in my seat, scowling at both of them. “She’s fine with it, by the way. You could’ve added that.”
“She didn’t know?—”
“She found out,” I interrupt. “Focus—there’s the warehouse.”
Carter pulls slightly off the road and kills the engine. We’re still a good distance away, which isn’t too much of a problem. For me. And Carter. Oliver is another story entirely.
Actually…
He hoists himself out of the car, his face a mask of pain, and I frown. I can’t be the one to suggest he stay behind, though, right? That would not fly.
I turn expectantly at Carter, who’s eyeing Oliver with the same concern. He opens his mouth, but Oliver shoots him a look.
Carter shakes his head slowly.
Now they’re having silent conversations?
What happened to me and Carter being pals?
“We can’t go in there empty-handed,” I say.
Carter nods. He moves to the trunk, popping it with a button on his key. He flips up the mat, unveiling a locked case. When that opens with a press of his thumb, it reveals a gun and two knives.
“Why do you have this?” Oliver asks in a low voice. “Are those even legal?”
“Um…” Carter makes a face. “My parents believe in the right to bear arms. So technically, yes, totally legal. For them. Well, for my uncle, who has a concealed carry license.”