Page 67 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

Bull-fucking-shit. I’m not terrified of selling my art. I’m not too scared to give Maddie and me a real shot. I’m simply not delusional. I understand the worth of things. And I’m not worth shit.

I take another slow, deep breath and tilt my head to the side, cracking my neck as I try to keep my frustration in check.

“I gotta go,” I mutter.

“All right,” Jos sighs. The bastard knows me too well. “I haven’t moved the keys to the shed from where you left them in case you feel like coming over.”

I hang up the call so I don’t give in and start yelling at him. Because whether I like it or not, he has me by the balls if I want to achieve the future I’ve been planning. And there’s nothing I can do but play his game if I want Etch 'N Ink to be mine.

17

Maddie

“Yes?” I answer, pinning my phone between my shoulder and ear as I change Penny’s diaper.

Dove clears her throat. “Um…hey.”

“Everything all right?” I shift my phone to my other ear.

“Sure. It’s…”

“Yes?” I toss the used diaper into the trash next to the bed where I’m changing Penny, making a mental note to take it out in a few so my room doesn’t wind up stinking.

“Mom and Dad called me.”

“So?”

“They said your phone is disconnected.”

“Obviously. I had it changed because of You Know Who,” I return with a huff. I’m not in the mood for this conversation. Hell, I’m not in the mood for anything right now. “What’s your point, Dove?”

“They’re there.”

“Where?” I ask.

“They wanted to see how you and their new grandbaby were doing, but when your phone was disconnected…” Her voice trails off, fanning my annoyance until I’m convinced I’ll burn alive from it.

I fold my legs beneath my butt and drag Penny’s feet toward me so I can snap the bottom of her Etch 'N Ink onesie closed. “Spit it out, Dove. I have no idea where you’re going with this.”

“They tried to reach out to you, Mads.”

“So?” I ask for what feels like the hundredth time.

“So, when they couldn’t get in touch with you, they freaked out, flew there to check on you, and called me, wanting to know if everything is okay,” she rushes out.

My eyes pop wide as I shift my cell to my other ear again. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“They flew there.”

“They flewhere?”

“Yup. They’re staying at the Hilton.”

“Dove––”

“I know. It’s insanity, but they were worried about you.”

“Theyflewhere?” I repeat, my voice reaching a feverish pitch.

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