Fire & Brimstone (Neighbor from Hell #8) - R.L. Mathewson Page 0,70

abruptly turning around and walking out, leaving her laying there, wondering how she was going to survive a week of house arrest.

Chapter 34

“No!” Melanie yelled as she stormed into the kitchen. “I’m not watching any more horror movies with you, you demented bitch!”

“Aw, come on! Just one more movie!” he heard Rebecca yell from her bedroom where he’d made damn sure that her beautiful ass had stayed for the past few days.

“No!” Melanie yelled back at Rebecca.

“I found this zombie movie that looks promising!”

“Rot in hell, bitch!” Melanie yelled back.

“This one’s not that bad! They only eat rotted corpses!”

When Melanie spotted him standing there she came to a stop five feet away from her beloved couch, looked at him, over her shoulder and then back at him again before he found himself being dragged towards the back hallway. Before he could ask the obviously insane woman if she’d lost her fucking mind, he found himself shoved into Rebecca’s messy room.

“Please forgive me,” Melanie whispered before she slammed the door shut and, by the sounds of it, ran away.

“Hey, handsome!” Rebecca said, smiling when she saw him standing there, which should have pleased him, but…

Christ, he wasn’t sure that he could take anymore.

Every day she greeted him with a huge smile and a new and terrifying way to kill time. The first night of her doctor ordered bed rest she’d suggested a friendly game of Monopoly. Even though he normally avoided playing board games because of his intense dislike of losing, he’d figured that he could handle one night of letting her win if it would make her happy and get her mind off her current situation.

What he hadn’t counted on was Rebecca turning into a fucking psycho as soon as the dice were rolled. She went from being cute and bored to vicious and calculating. She’d taken her time, learning the way he played, his property preferences and before he’d realized what happened, she’d managed to outmaneuver him, built monopolies and completely destroyed him.

That’s when he got serious.

He’d challenged her to a rematch, but apparently the little demon had already lost interest, leaving him fuming for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that she’d beaten him, it was that she’d fucked with his head while doing it and she’d done it every fucking day since.

But that was fine, because tonight that bullshit was finally coming to an end.

“How was your day?” she asked from the bed where a dozen books, DVDs, magazines and empty Hershey Kiss wrappers surrounded her.

Instead of answering her, because he’d learned his lesson last night when he’d tried to distract her from her latest challenge, he reached down, picked her up and carried her out of the room.

“No checkers?” she asked with an adorable little pout that he wasn’t falling for.

Not this time.

He’d learned that lesson when she’d suggested they play Tetris.

“Thank God,” Melanie said, sighing with relief when she spotted them heading for the door.

“Walking Dead marathon when I get back, biatch!” she said with a huge smile and that devious glint in her eye that he knew so well.

She was purposely fucking with her best friend’s head for the hell of it.

“You’re evil,” he said, chuckling as he carried her across the hallway towards his apartment.

“I got bored,” she admitted with a shrug as she reached over and opened his apartment door for him. “So, what are we doing tonight?”

Grinning, he stepped inside his apartment and kicked his door shut behind them. “Research.”

*-*-*-*

“How exactly is this research?” she couldn’t help but ask from her position on the couch where he’d placed her three hours ago and handed her the television remote.

“Because I need to test a few recipes on someone,” he said from the large, heavy-duty kitchen island that Melanie would probably kill him for if she ever found out about it.

“And how does me being here help?” she couldn’t help but ask since she wasn’t exactly in the position to help him right now.

Not unless he was going to stop being so freaking anal about following that damn aftercare sheet that he carried everywhere, she thought. But, since he “consulted” with that damn list every five minutes to make sure that she was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing to ensure a full recovery, she really doubted that he was going to let her help.

He wouldn’t even let her walk and if he found out that she did, and he always did thanks to that betraying bitch that she

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