Page 12 of The Love Bandits

So maybe sheiscrazy.

Elaine just stares at me and grabs the beer she left on the kitchen counter, taking a long pull of it. “Can you look up the closest place on your phone, Jake?Please.”

The cat’s pawing at the glue trap now, and it hits me that it’s a hell of a way for a mouse to go out. Stuck where it stands, no ability to escape. Trapped. Doomed. Celestially fucked. I decide I’m going to look behind the fridge later and remove any traps that might still be back there. No one deserves to die like that.

But first I have to get Elaine and her cat out of my apartment. There’s something off with her, badly off, and I would have noticed if my dick weren’t such a fan of her.

So I grab my phone off the coffee table and start Googling. But I’ve barely entered in a search when I hear the sound of something spilling, followed by anoh shitand another yowl.

When I turn around, Elaine has somehow managed to spill what looks like her entire beer down the front of her shirt.

How?The opening in the bottle shouldn’t be large enough.

“I’m sorry,” she says, lifting a hand to her wet chest. For a second, my gaze is drawn down to the slope of her tits, pressing against the front of the wet fabric…but I force myself to look away.

“I don’t even know you,” she says, looking at me with gorgeous whiskey eyes full of worry. “You must think I’m…”

“No,” I say quickly, even though the real answer isyes.“But you’re right. You should get Professor X some medical treatment.”

“Except…” she pauses. “Could I please borrow one of your shirts? I don’t really want to go to the clinic smelling like a brewery.” She smiles at me. “I know it’ll bemuchtoo big, but I can tie it up with a knot—and return it later of course.”

It’s a reasonable request, and to tell her no would make me a jerk. So I nod. “Yeah, no problem,” I say, even though I have no intention of collecting it later.

I bring her inside the bedroom, feeling her presence like it’s branding me, because even though I’ve decided this is a no-go, dead-end situation, she’s still a gorgeous woman, and she’s about to strip down in my room. Put on one of my shirts.

My attention shifts to the feathers all over the floor and the murdered pillow lying amidst them.

There goes Jake Jeffries’s security deposit.

“Sorry,” she says self-consciously. “She really likes feathers. I have to sleep on foam.”

“No problem,” I lie.

I tug a navy blue T-shirt out of the drawer, gritting my teeth, and then back out of the room. Trying not to think of her perfect tits exposed to the functional dresser and the ugly Home Sweet Home prints on the wall.

The door slams shut in my face.

Yes, this woman is a fucking tornado, and I already have whiplash.

“This was a bad idea,” I tell the cat in an undertone, then run a hand through my hair. She yowls and bats at the glue trap, eyes full of fire.

I have to keep a low profile until Saturday, then I need to blow town as soon as possible.

CHAPTER FIVE

LAINEY

Conversation with Nicole

How’s it going, Mata Hari?

Wait for me in the alley next to the building. I’m bringing a cat.

No, Lainey, I do not want your pussy, but thanks for asking.

This cat is a key witness to the case.

Get the necklace. Forget the cat. I don’t want some dude coming at me because we kidnapped his precious.

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