Page 60 of Trig

I snap my fingers to get her attention and then I mouth the word ‘tonight’ to her while pointing down at the floor.

“I’m sure you’re very busy, but how about dinner at my house tonight…with my family?”

Oscar takes a deep breath in and then responds.

“You want me to meet your family? He pauses. “I mean…that’s a different energy from last night but if it makes you happy…sure.”

“Nothing I want more.” Mya grits her teeth and fake smiles.

“Mm-hmm. What time, beautiful?”

Mya looks at me. I look at Nine. Nine looks at the non-existent table.

“Maybe seven-thirty. We might need to go to the furniture store,” Mya trails off.

“What?” Oscar asks, confused.

“Nothing. Text me your number. I’ll let you know.”

“My number is in your phone. I put it in there last night. I’m calling you from the warehouse.”

I glare at Mya, not knowing she has a secondary phone.

“You’re invasive.”

“I’m thorough.”

“Okay! We're done here. Message you later.”

Mya hangs up and looks at me. She motions to the broken table as if to say, ‘where are we supposed to eat?’

“Mya, there is a patio table outside. You and Cisco get the vacuum and clean this mess up.”

Nine walks by the kids and doesn’t say a word. They both look at me with sadness in their eyes. I turn to walk after her.

“Does she hate us?” Cisco asks.

I swing around. Mya searches my face for an answer.

“Worse. She loves you both.” I pause. “She’s tired. She’s pissed. She’s overstimulated. Let her get some sleep. All of us should. We’ll talk later.”

I walk back to our bedroom to find her sprawled out on the bed. She sits up when she hears me enter.

“Do you honestly believe they are going to stop?” Nine inquires.

I sit down on the bed next to her and grab her hand.

“With our DNA, there’s not a chance in hell.”

Chapter 12. Live or Die

“I think I’m going to vomit,” Mya says as she stares at her phone. “He’s here.”

Cisco sits there trying to find something to do with his arms. He first places them on the table, and then he crosses them on his lap, and then he decides to fold them across his chest.

“Can you guys pull it together?” I bark. “Aren’t you both professional gun sellers? This should be easy,” I mock.

Nine pours herself a second glass of wine. She looks at me and then finally downs it. She stands up, grabs the entire bottle of wine and walks past me, patting my shoulder on the way to the kitchen. She hasn’t spoken much since the table exploded earlier. I hear the doorbell ring. Mya and I both shoot up from our chairs.

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