Bug?” Jenks shouted, incensed. “You sack of sweat stink. I’ve got farts that smell sweeter than you. Think you’re better than me? Poop ice cream cones, do you?
Kim HarrisonPeople are motivated by three things, Rachel. Love …” A red marker clattered in with the rest. “Revenge …” A black one landed next to it. “And power,” she finished, tossing in a green one. “Trent has enough money to buy all three.”
“You forgot one,” I said, wondering if I should just keep my mouth shut. “Family.
You are so full of yourself, Trent,” I said, wishing I could shift the car into reverse and drive over his foot.
His smile widened.
“What?” I demanded.
“You called me by my first name. I like that.
Tell you what,” I said, my eyebrows rising. “You can drive me home if we keep to one topic on the way.”
“Your father?” he guessed, and I nodded. I was getting used to this deal-with-a-demon business.
He darted a guilty look toward his dad. “Will you—get me a bottle of spicy?”
My eyes jerked to his.
“Maybe some barbecue sauce?”
I closed my mouth before a bug flew into it. “Sure.” I did not believe this. I was pimping ketchup to the son of the FIB’s captain.
Past him was Trent, a tired look on his face. Holding my borrowed shawl close, I watched Jonathan as I slid out. “Why, thank you, Jon,” I said brightly, “you freaking bastard.”
Trent ducked his head, hiding a smile.
It pulled emotion from me I wasn’t aware I could feel. A deep painful regret. Unrequited need.
Kim HarrisonOh, Trent and I go back a long way,” I said lightly, twirling a curl of my hair about my finger and remembering its new shortness. “We met at camp as children. Sort of romantic when you think about it.” I smiled at Trent’s suddenly blank look.
Kim HarrisonTrent gave me a weary look. “Always seeing the best in a person, Ms. Morgan?”
“Yeah. Except with you.”
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