get her…or more accurately go visit the bail bondsman that I have a track record with since he’s a little more lenient with some of rules since we’re frequent fucking customers.”
“No way, babe,” he unexpectedly argues. “You’re not gonna go alone, in the middle of the fucking night, to some shady bail bondsman-”
“Bill’s not…shady.”
“Bill the bail bondsman doesn’t sound shady to you? Like a cartoon character on an adult series about the shady legal system that’s structured like Archer but probably has animations similar to Family Guy or Futurama.”
His choice of late-night television references is more telling than he probably knows.
“Besides that shit, there’s no reason you should shell out that type of cash when you don’t have to-”
“I do have to,” I promptly counter, “or my sister rots in a cell for…some unknown amount of time.”
“You don’t,” he fights in such a way it sounds like the conversation is completely over. “Go ahead and get dressed while I do the same. We’ll go get her out together.”
My mouth moves to continue the conversation but stops when he struts out of the room indicating we are indeed done having this discussion.
Conflicting emotions start to chomp away at my temperament momentarily distracting me from the actual actions I should be taking. As much as I feel we need to keep conferring over what’s about to happen next, the thoughts of my sister trapped behind bars, afraid and anxious, overpower the urges.
The change of scenery from Ax’s beach house to my significantly smaller apartment is done so swiftly it almost feels like a weird dream sequence. In the past, the entire experience of saving my sibling has come with stress headaches, stress induced tinnitus, and stress fits of tears while trying my best to navigate what feels like the ever-changing waters of the legal system. Having someone not only knowledgeable but also not looking to profit from my cluelessness helped alleviate ninety percent of the mental anguish.
Katrina, or Rina as she prefers to be called, flops down onto the sand-colored sofa, lifts the overpriced latte Ax bought her to her lips, and bobs her fro-bearing head around in her infamous carefree nature.
She successfully keeps the other ten percent around.
No effort required.
Ten years younger.
Ten thousand times less responsible.
“Is this her apartment or yours?” Ax asks, dragging my glare away from the person who has so much explaining to do I could scream and over to where he’s gawking at posted family photos. “Because if I had to guess from all the pineapple-themed décor and this framed college graduation picture beside a copy of a degree that has your name on it…I’d have to guess it’s yours.”
My lips purse together on one side of my face.
“Do you…live together?” His gaze flickers to mine. “Are you roommates?”
“Roommates is a strong word,” I timidly counter.
“Is this why we’re always at my place?” He folds his arms firmly across his navy-blue button-down shirt-covered chest. “Is this why you’ve never invited me over before?”
Unsure of what’s more distracting, the delicious way his upper half bulges in its confines or how sexy his voice sounds in its strong, domineering state, I simply steal a bite of my bottom lip.
“You gonna just let him interrogate you or what?” Rina needlessly pipes in from the opposite side of the room. “Stand up for yourself. For like once.” There’s a tiny pause before she obnoxiously echoes herself. “For like once be a strong, independent, back-bone-having boss bitch.”
“Shut up,” I instantly snip at the same time I snap my head her direction, “or you may actually become homeless this time.”
“This time?” Ax questions on his way my direction.
“It’s a long story…”
My weak counter receives crunched eyebrows. “That’s the tagline the two of you have each been feeding me for hours. I’m starting to think it’s just what the Headley sisters say when they don’t want you to know the truth about a situation.”
Rina doesn’t disagree.
“Which is fucked up, Brooklyn, because I confessed my ugly truth to you.”
“I know you did,” I helplessly huff, tinnitus right on the edge of returning. “I know you did, and I’m glad you did, and you’re absolutely right. You deserve my ugly truth, too. I’m sorry I haven’t talked about this yet-”
“So. Weak,” Rina callously comments.
“-but I swear, hand to seashell, I will explain everything in detail later. Later, when we’re alone, I will less than happily fill in the blanks and outline the numerous failures of my younger, mouthier, and increasingly ungrateful sister, along with why I