Page 26 of Nightmare

“Did you—”

“Wait for it to heat up first every time?” she finishes for me. “Yes, Atty.”

“Good girl,” I praise, lifting her hand up to my mouth to kiss her knuckles.

“I also took it to your guy for an oil change last month and never let the gas run below a quarter full,” she adds, looking awfully proud of herself when I let out a low groan.

“I wanna marry you so bad.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Let’s go to Vegas and elope later.”

“Ha.” She laughs. “One step a time, baby.”

“You wanna have kids first?”

Her eyes widen as she suddenly stops, and I curse myself for opening my big mouth.

“We’re going to the pharmacy. Right now,” she decides, picking up the pace and dragging me along by my wrist. “I’ll call the doctor tomorrow morning so she can get me back on the pill,” she goes on, turning around to point a finger at my face. “You better stay the fuck out of my medicine cabinet.”

I nod fast, a little scared of her when she looks at me like that. “All right.”

* * *

After we’ve been to the pharmacy and the clothing store across the street—in that order, as she insisted—I finally manage to get some chocolate chip pancakes into her at Lucky’s Diner. She looks so fucking cute wearing the huge gray hoodie I bought her, using the sleeves to hold her steaming hot coffee cup as she sips it in the booth seat next to me.

“We don’t know if anyone found the Joker card,” she says, eyeing me over the top.

“Don’t even worry about it,” I tell her, shaking my head. “There’s no way.”

She nods her agreement and tucks her feet up on my lap, raising a brow at me when I continue to play with this new piercing in her ear, brushing my thumb over the metal.

“When did you get this?” I ask, because I’ve been dying to know since I found it on her this morning.

She shrugs, hesitating before she says, “I don’t rememb—”

“Violet.”

“April seventh.”

My court date.

That shouldn’t please me as much as it does, but I can’t help it.

Back in high school, every time she’d get into yet another screaming fight with her parents—usually about me—or whenever she’d feel anxious or stressed or sad about something, she’d call me to come get her and I’d take her to get something new for her body. New ink or a new piercing. It’s why she’s covered in them. They always make her feel better about whatever’s tearing her up inside at the time.

And she got this on my court date.

She hits me with a small, half smile, and I smile too, dropping my head down on her shoulder and tightening my grip around her waist. “You went without me,” I say into her hoodie, moving my mouth up to kiss the shell of her ear.

“One time,” she mutters. “It’s just a teeny little ring, Atty.”

“You got a girl to do it, right?”

“Fucking hell.”

“What?” I ask. “I’m just curious.”

---