Page 83 of GAF Factor

I glanced to my left and found a vodka bottle tipped on its side on the table. I picked it up and set it upright on the table, then walked over to Isla, who was still cracking up on the floor. I got down on my haunches, giving her a disapproving look.

“What do we have here?”

She sat up suddenly, flinging out her arms. “Welcome to the circus!”

I glanced around again and nodded. “So, that’s what the peanuts are all about.”

She nodded excitedly. “And the candy,” she said, shoving the Twizzlers in my face. “They didn’t have any Jujyfruits.”

“So, when I left you behind, you decided to get wasted.”

“I decided to become a clown. It was her idea,” she said, pointing in Jane’s direction. “I think.”

“You think it was her idea?”

“What?” she asked, looking at me in confusion. Then she burst out laughing and flung her arms around my neck, kissing me hard.

“Okay, we should get you cleaned up.”

“Why? It’s so much fun over here at the circus!”

“I bet it is, but we have bad guys to find.”

“Nah! Bad guys, shmad guys,” she slurred, getting to her feet with my help. I slid my arm around her back, holding her up as best I could as she stumbled toward the bed instead of the door.

She flopped down on it, rubbing it lovingly. “Mmm, I just love this bed so much. It’s such a comfortable bed. Don’t you love this bed?”

“Yep, it’s a great bed.”

“I could lay all day in this bed.”

“Let’s go lay in our bed,” I suggested, tugging her upright.

She sent me a sexy grin, pulling her hand from my grasp. Then she stumbled back a step and started pulling up her shirt. “Wanna see what I’d do in our bed?”

The thought of IRIS seeing even a small amount of her skin made me burn with anger. I stormed over to her and flung her over my shoulder. To hell with being nice about it. We were getting out of here before she started ripping her clothes off in front of an audience.

I spun around and was about to storm out when I saw IRIS was in much of the same predicament that I had been in. Only he was cornered by Jane, and she looked like she was about to prove that she could be a hooker. Shaking my head, I walked through the connecting door, locking it behind us for good measure. Isla was squealing with laughter as I set her down. I wasn’t sure why she thought this was so funny, but then again,I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been drunk and thought anything was fun.

“IKE. That’s such a funny name. IKE. IKE, IKE, IKE.”

“That’s why I told you to call me Knox,” I said, taking her hand and pulling her toward the bathroom. I wanted to get her to bed, but not before I took that silly makeup off her face.

“I like IKE.” She snorted, then started laughing again. I grabbed her by the hips and hoisted her up onto the counter. My fingers skimmed over her waist, but I held back. Taking her to bed was no longer an option. As adorable as she was drunk, I wanted her to remember every second that I touched her.

“Just sit there for a second, okay?” I looked around for her makeup kit, but it wasn’t there. Surely, she had something for removing makeup. Didn’t all women have that stuff? Then again, Isla never wore anything. This had to be all Jane’s makeup, and I wasn’t about to knock on that door right now.

I snagged a washcloth and ran it under warm water as Isla kicked her feet out, back and forth, repeating IKE over and over again. After lathering up some soap, I coated the rag and ran it over her face.

“What does IKE mean, anyway?”

“Why does it have to mean anything?”

“It’s an acronym, isn’t it?”

I paused to look at her as I took another swipe. “How do you know that?”

“I’m not telling,” she said in a sing-song voice.

---