Page 4 of The Pretender

Oh my gosh. Why is she a bottomless pit all the time? “Are you seriously eating his food?”

“He has those fruit bars I love. Would it be shitty if I grabbed one?”

Ugh. “Yes, Asp. It would. Don’t eat his food.” It might be poisoned or as delicious as I remember. “I’m going to check the bathroom. If I can’t find my chair there, we’ll have to come back another time.”

His poker games usually last a few hours, but lately, he’s been coming home earlier than usual.

“Okay,” Aspen hollers, but she sounds sad.

High-stepping around a couple of shirts on the floor, I push open the bathroom door and flip on the light. And, like he knew I was coming, my chair sits in the tub with a pink bow on the backrest.

“Douche,” I mumble to myself, but I can feel myself smiling. I might want to drown this man but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good prank. Believe it or not, I’ve missed figuring out ways to piss him off these past couple of months.

“Aspen! It’s in here. Come help me move it.”

I hear her footsteps before I see her. “Huh. I don’t know why I thought it would feel like I needed to bathe in bleach after walking into Bash-hole’s bedroom, but it’s really not that bad,” she muses.

“Yeah,” I agree. “I was shocked at first too.”

Her brows furrow. “What? You’ve been in his house before?”

Oops. “No. I mean, when we first broke in. Come on, hurry so we can get out of here.”

Aspen accepts my somewhat truthful response and comes to stand halfway in the tub. “On three, we’ll lift and walk it out.”

I nod, not even bothering to argue with her plan. One, it’s a solid plan, and two, Aspen is not only the older one of the two of us but also the bossy one.

“One. Two. Three.” We get the chair all of two feet off the porcelain before we meet resistance.

“What the hell?” Aspen says, putting the chair back down. “Where is it stuck?”

Something like defeat churns and settles in my stomach. Of course he wouldn’t make it this easy. Easing to my knees, I lean down and notice that not only is my chair chained to the exposed pipe in his tub, but it’s secured with a combination pad lock.

“Dammit!”

I exhale and try to calm myself when Aspen points in the tub. “Look, there’s a note.”

I snatch it up and read it aloud.

“I’m guessing a combination lock is harder than my front door.

Be a good neighbor and fold the clothes in the dryer while you’re here.

Bash

I glance at Aspen,who is hiding a grin behind her hand.

“I hate him,” I say with a straight face.

She nods, schooling her amusement. “Do you think you can pick this lock too?”

I scoff. “Who do you think I am? A career criminal? I don’t know how to figure out the combination.”

I crumble the note in my hand and toss it in his sink. Sebastian won this round; there’s no way I am getting my chair out of here tonight.

“Want me to get Fenn and Bennett to come over?” Aspens suggests. “Maybe they can find something to break the lock.”

I shake my head. “No. This is between me and dick face. I’ll handle it.”

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