Squeak

New Roomie?

Jezebel

I could feel Erik throw glances at me in the dark. I didn't even have to look at him to know he wore his signature satanic smirk on his lips. "Stop smiling," I growled, shaking what was left of my drink angrily, not recognizing the dark tone in my voice.

"I'm not smiling," Erik lied.

"You are. I can hear it in your voice. You're real proud of yourself," I accused.

"I am. You should be, too. You almost killed your dad. Good job, Squeak," Erik praised, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. I popped him. "Do it again. I love that shit, Squeak," Erik taunted.

Don't fall for it, Jezebel. He's looking for a reaction from you.

"Tell me again exactly what happened when you left my house."

"I left your house and returned the roses to Tucker."

"What happened at Tucker's house?"

"That's neither here nor there. From there, I went to my house to return my gun, and then I was kicked out."

"I'm sorry, but I'm having difficulty believing you were kicked out. Your mother doesn't seem like she would allow that to happen."

"Apparently...I went too far this time," Erik drawled.

"Be honest, Erik. Did you? You never told me what you did to Charles. You came back to the car covered in blood, told me to shut up, and that you did what needed to be done."

"Honestly...it depends on your definition of too far. It's subjective."

"Would an average individual capable of empathy say you went too far?" I challenged, not in the mood for Erik's astute ability to talk in circles.

"Oh, I went too far," Erik replied, laughing at his confession, but I didn't find it funny.

I just got rid of one psycho, just to replace him with another...excuse me...sociopath.

"It's fine. We'll talk to your mom and Charles, you'll ask for forgiveness, and they'll have to take you back. If not, then I'm sure you have enough money to get an apartment."

"Nope. I was cut off. I have a couple thousand in my safe, but Charles forbade my mother from giving me money. I have to save my money to help take care of you. I doubt you have access to your father's money."

I paused in thought. Erik was right. I didn't have access to funds, and I had no idea where to start. His offer was thoughtful...

"Do you really have to move in with me, though?"

"Squeak, I don't know what type of sucker you think I am, but I'm not paying bills where I'm not staying. You're just as delusional as your father if you think I'd do that and not get pussy." I squeaked in distress. "Stop with the theatrics." I jumped out of his truck as soon as it came to a screeching halt in the driveway. "It's no use, Squeak," Erik called after me. I rang the doorbell and instinctively ran my hand over my overall dress, massaging out the imaginary wrinkles. I rolled my eyes when I felt my puffs bounce. "Relax. I'm just helping you out," Erik asserted.

The door flew open, and we were face-to-face with Erik's mother. "Good evening, Helen. Can we come in?"

"Helen? Who is at the door? Is it Erik? Tell him he better get off my property in the next thirty seconds, or I'll call the police," Charles threatened.

"How are you going to do that when your fingers are broken, asshole?" Erik barked.

I whirled around to confront him. "You broke his fingers?" I whispered harshly.