Chapter Four

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"I'm surprised no one has called yet," Wes surfaced from the hallway and dropped himself on the couch next to Johnny

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"I'm surprised no one has called yet," Wes surfaced from the hallway and dropped himself on the couch next to Johnny.

"Maybe she's making friends," Johnny shrugged.

I felt someone's eyes on me, but I continued to focus on the file staring back at me. "Maybe she's talking to a boy," I heard Cal say and I might as well have snapped my neck at how fast I lifted my head to glare at my soon to be dead brother.

I scowled. "Not funny,"

"Aw, look guys, protective dad mode has already kicked in," Cal chuckled, nudging Wes.

"Maybe she is talking to a boy, who knows?" Johnny pushed on.

Murder. I wanted to do it to all of these fuckers.  "I'm gonna kill all three of you one day," I grumbled under my breath.

"You love us too much," Wes placed a hand over his heart.

I shot him a look. "Define love,"

"Anyways," Cal said, obviously losing interest in messing with me. "Moving on, why don't we get something for Odessa?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't like surviving what the hell her mother put her through?"

"Like what? A cake?"

"Odessa doesn't like cake," Wes said. I looked at him. "How do you know that?"

"I thought I'd make conversation on the way to school, so I asked her what her dislikes were,"

"Who doesn't like cake?" Cal grimaced.

"Odessa," Johnny deadpanned. Cal rolled his eyes.

"I went to this bakery from time to time for my sister, it's not that far from here, get her some cupcakes,"

"Yeah, Christian, go get your daughter cupcakes,"

I blinked at Cal. "I have work to do,"

"Yeah, which is going to get your daughter cupcakes," Cal snatches the computer from my lap. "I'll finish this, you go," he pointed towards the door.

I scowled but got up and got his keys. "I'm going to commit murder," I mumbled on my way out, but I was glad for the task. That file and its lack of information had been taunting me for fucking days.

When I got to said bakery, there was a short brown skinned woman behind the counter. "Hi, welcome to Abala's Treats, what can I get you?" I rubbed my temples. That high pitched voice was already giving him a headache.

"Two dozen cupcakes,"

"Anything else?"

"No."

I paid and stood off to the side. This place was bright. It could probably blind someone. And it was too pink. Honestly, who in their right mind would want their place of employment to look like a five-year-old little girl designed it.

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