Page 7 of Unhinged Kallie

Kirby laid her hand on my arm and smiled at Natalie. “We’ll come back later. This is our first store.”

“Well…good luck.” She turned and marched away.

“No, you cannot kill her,” Kirby whispered. My eyebrow cocked, and suddenly all I could picture was laying her down on the pillow display and fucking her. “And we’re not doing whatever has that look in your eyes,” she said, laughing.

“How do you know it was something naughty?”

“With you, it’s always naughty.” Slipping her fingers into my hand, she tugged me to leave. I gave Natalie one last glance and resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t kill her.

This new version of my life was still unusual for me. I never had restrictions or conditions and never allowed any. I definitely didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought other than the police and FBI. Now…my obsessions remained, but the desires had shifted, and so had my focus on what was important.

“We should find Aspen and Abel. It makes me nervous to think of him wandering around a mall,” Kirby said, and I chuckled.

“No truer words have been spoken. At least he decided to come disguised.”

Kirby rolled her eyes up at me. “You really call what he’s wearing a disguise?”

“Well, it’s nothing I’d wear.” The words no sooner left my mouth when we spotted my brother and Aspen coming down the escalator. He looked ridiculous, and Aspen seemed horrified. I couldn’t blame her. I owed her a debt for taking Abel—and ninety percent of his antics—off my hands.

He was wearing a red Washington Nationals baseball hat and a banana yellow shirt with flowers all over it. If you looked closely, you could see that the petals were dicks. He wore jeans that would’ve suited him if he were a fourteen-year-old skater and Vans sneakers like he was trying to be cool. Of course, he finished the look with a wig that gave him scraggly hair past his shoulders, a beard that looked like a beaver’s asshole, and glasses I would’ve sworn he stole from Ozzy Osborne.

To complete this fucking marvelous outfit he was bent over in front of Aspen, wiggling his ass like that would impress her. I shook my head.

“That really is a hideous look,” Kirby said, making me smile. “Do you think he knows how terrible it is?”

“Not a chance. He would say he has style, and the rest of us are boring.”

They reached the bottom of the escalator, and Aspen screamed, drawing everyone’s attention as Abel scooped her up off her feet and carried her the rest of the way. She looked horrified but smiled at my brother the way Kirby smiled at me. I was happy for him. I never thought in a million years he’d find a woman that could put up with the shit storm that was Abel. Aspen did, and at least I knew that if something ever happened to me, he would have Kirby and Aspen to keep him in line. It brought me a strange sense of relief to know that.

“My woman doesn’t walk when I’m around,” Abel said, setting Aspen on her feet.

“Did you have any luck,” Kirby asked Aspen.

“No, only this.” She held up a small bag and pulled out a dog plushie. “Abel said we had to have it.”

“You can never have too many dogs,” Abel said, then punched me in the arm. I glared at the spot he hit me. Some shit would never change.

“Well, I’m famished. This baby is always hungry,” Kirby said, rubbing her small bump.

“Same. I could really go for pizza or maybe a burger with extra pickles. No, how about fish tacos with a side of fries and ice cream,” Aspen said.

“Damn, Buttercup, you’re making me hungry,” Abel said, rubbing his stomach as well.

Kirby laughed just as her phone rang. Her brow furrowed as she stared at the screen.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know.” Hitting talk, Kirby put the phone to her ear. “Kirby Buchanan speaking.” I would never grow tired of hearing her use my last name.

The three of us waited for Kirby to finish her call, and even though Abel was talking to me, I didn’t hear a word. The only thing that registered was the small gasp Kirby made. I was by her side in seconds, and she leaned into me, her hand covering her mouth as tears trickled down her cheeks. I hated not knowing what was happening, and seeing her face twisted in pain made me murderous.

I could choose any random asshole walking by and happily take out my frustration on them if it would stop that look of pain.

“Yes, yes, I understand. I’ll be there,” Kirby said and hung up the phone.

She slowly turned her face up to mine, and I cupped it, willing her to tell me what was making her cry.

“It’s…it’s my…,” she started and stopped.