Beast Behaving Badly
Page 38
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Im glad were entertaining you.
Very funny. Get me the rest of the info and Ill write her a script based on that. And Im so glad you called, Bold, even if it was for your sick friend. Now maybe you can get around to calling your uncle.
Phones go both ways.
I swear, she sighed out. You two.
Bye, Dr. Luntz.
Bye, Bold. Take care of yourself.
He disconnected the call and quickly began texting her the rest of Blaynes info.
Whats your weight? he asked.
Ill die before I tell you that, Blayne muttered.
Not in the mood to argue, Bo put his phone in his mouthnot hygienic but necessaryand lifted Blayne up. He raised her up and down a few times to get a good read on her weight, then placed her back down and finished texting Dr. Luntz that and the pharmacy information. Once done, he called into the pharmacy to give them a heads up and to make sure they could have the meds delivered right away. Everything handled, he sat on the floor beside the couch. Blayne was sleeping now, but she made small whimpering sounds and frowned deeply, which told him she was in pain. He touched the icepack and realized it was no longer cold. Hoping she had another one in her freezer, he picked up the pack and stood. Thats when he took a good long look at the pit she had the nerve to call a home.
How does she live like this? he asked the air, and thats when he immediately decided she couldnt live like this.
CHAPTER 11
Blayne slept hard. So hard, she only remembered someone waking her once to shove several big pills down her throat, followed by an attempt at drowning her. The next time she woke up, she felt much better and was starving.
Yawning, she sat up and stretched. Her migraine was gone, her face no longer felt ten times bigger than her entire body, and she could now see out of both eyes. It was still dark out, but she had no clue what time it was. She glanced at her watch, but quickly remembered it didnt work. Okay, so Bo was right about that. She did need a new watch . . . a task shed get around to eventually.
She stood and headed to the bathroom, her need to pee overriding her need to eat. She took care of that, washed her hands, and walked back into the living room. Thats when she stopped and gawked.
What . . . wait . . . wheres . . . uh . . .
Are you well enough to be up?
Blayne looked over her shoulder. Bo Novikov stood in her kitchen doorway. He was actually kind of stooping a bit because he was too tall for her doorways. To be honest, shed forgotten hed come over. Questions like why and how did he know where she lived in Brooklyn faded away as it hit her that she hadnt been robbed by very neat thieves.
She pointed at her living room. What did you do?
Cleaned up. Looks much better, dont you think?
Blayne walked farther into the living room. Wheres all my stuff?
You mean all that trash?
Blayne faced theinsolent beast in her apartment. Trash? Did you call my stuff trash?
Isnt it?
No! Its not trash. Its my stuff!
Which was trash.
Annoyed by his calm but self-righteous attitude, Blayne pointed an accusing finger. You threw it out, didnt you?
Well
Because you think it was trash. But it wasnt trash. It was my stuff.
Blayne
Mine! she bellowed. Not yours. Mine, mine, mine!
Blayne
Who do you think you are? Coming into my apartment? Taking my shit! Throwing my shit out!
At this point, Blayne was good and frothy, but when Bo rolled his eyes at her and let out some kind of soul-weary, put-upon sigh, shed had enough!
Out! she barked. Get out of my house! Now! She turned to make the short trip over to the front door so she could dramatically throw it open, but he caught hold of her sweatshirt and swung her around. For a brief moment, she thought he was about to pummel her, but instead of spinning her around to face him, he spun her around to face the wall behind the couch. The wall with the bookcases shed originally tossed stuff up onto when she was unpacking and had been meaning to reorganize once she had a chance. Sadly, that chance had never made an appearance.
Not only had the three sets of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves been reorganized, but all the books and magazines Blayne had laying on the floor were now on the bookshelves. And not only were the items organized alphabetically, they were organized alphabetically by author within subgroups that were broken down by topic. And yeah, the topics were also in alphabetical order. Hed even found time to do a makeshift binding of her magazines by year and label them so she knew which magazine they were without having to pull them down and look.
Oh, she said. Oh, thats niceeek!
He swung her around again and this time she faced the kitchen. The spotless kitchen with all the dishes, pots, and pans put away, the counter and stovetop scrubbed clean, and the four bags of trash shed been meaning to throw in the Dumpster downstairs for the past two weeks finally gone. And she was sure, if she wanted to, she could eat off that kitchen floor.
Wow
Another swing and she was looking into her bedroom. All the clothes that had been on the floor were now in the hamperI have a hamper?and the pile of clean clothes she had in her laundry basket were gone, leading her to believe theyd been folded and put in her chest of drawers. A few had been hung up and put in her closet, which had also been organized, the clothes aligned by size. The shoes, sneakers, and boots shed tossed into the bottom of her closetand then spent an hour every morning trying to find a matching pairwere organized on the closet floor. First her work boots, then her sneakers, then her skates, and finally a very small row of dress shoes and heels.
Very funny. Get me the rest of the info and Ill write her a script based on that. And Im so glad you called, Bold, even if it was for your sick friend. Now maybe you can get around to calling your uncle.
Phones go both ways.
I swear, she sighed out. You two.
Bye, Dr. Luntz.
Bye, Bold. Take care of yourself.
He disconnected the call and quickly began texting her the rest of Blaynes info.
Whats your weight? he asked.
Ill die before I tell you that, Blayne muttered.
Not in the mood to argue, Bo put his phone in his mouthnot hygienic but necessaryand lifted Blayne up. He raised her up and down a few times to get a good read on her weight, then placed her back down and finished texting Dr. Luntz that and the pharmacy information. Once done, he called into the pharmacy to give them a heads up and to make sure they could have the meds delivered right away. Everything handled, he sat on the floor beside the couch. Blayne was sleeping now, but she made small whimpering sounds and frowned deeply, which told him she was in pain. He touched the icepack and realized it was no longer cold. Hoping she had another one in her freezer, he picked up the pack and stood. Thats when he took a good long look at the pit she had the nerve to call a home.
How does she live like this? he asked the air, and thats when he immediately decided she couldnt live like this.
CHAPTER 11
Blayne slept hard. So hard, she only remembered someone waking her once to shove several big pills down her throat, followed by an attempt at drowning her. The next time she woke up, she felt much better and was starving.
Yawning, she sat up and stretched. Her migraine was gone, her face no longer felt ten times bigger than her entire body, and she could now see out of both eyes. It was still dark out, but she had no clue what time it was. She glanced at her watch, but quickly remembered it didnt work. Okay, so Bo was right about that. She did need a new watch . . . a task shed get around to eventually.
She stood and headed to the bathroom, her need to pee overriding her need to eat. She took care of that, washed her hands, and walked back into the living room. Thats when she stopped and gawked.
What . . . wait . . . wheres . . . uh . . .
Are you well enough to be up?
Blayne looked over her shoulder. Bo Novikov stood in her kitchen doorway. He was actually kind of stooping a bit because he was too tall for her doorways. To be honest, shed forgotten hed come over. Questions like why and how did he know where she lived in Brooklyn faded away as it hit her that she hadnt been robbed by very neat thieves.
She pointed at her living room. What did you do?
Cleaned up. Looks much better, dont you think?
Blayne walked farther into the living room. Wheres all my stuff?
You mean all that trash?
Blayne faced theinsolent beast in her apartment. Trash? Did you call my stuff trash?
Isnt it?
No! Its not trash. Its my stuff!
Which was trash.
Annoyed by his calm but self-righteous attitude, Blayne pointed an accusing finger. You threw it out, didnt you?
Well
Because you think it was trash. But it wasnt trash. It was my stuff.
Blayne
Mine! she bellowed. Not yours. Mine, mine, mine!
Blayne
Who do you think you are? Coming into my apartment? Taking my shit! Throwing my shit out!
At this point, Blayne was good and frothy, but when Bo rolled his eyes at her and let out some kind of soul-weary, put-upon sigh, shed had enough!
Out! she barked. Get out of my house! Now! She turned to make the short trip over to the front door so she could dramatically throw it open, but he caught hold of her sweatshirt and swung her around. For a brief moment, she thought he was about to pummel her, but instead of spinning her around to face him, he spun her around to face the wall behind the couch. The wall with the bookcases shed originally tossed stuff up onto when she was unpacking and had been meaning to reorganize once she had a chance. Sadly, that chance had never made an appearance.
Not only had the three sets of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves been reorganized, but all the books and magazines Blayne had laying on the floor were now on the bookshelves. And not only were the items organized alphabetically, they were organized alphabetically by author within subgroups that were broken down by topic. And yeah, the topics were also in alphabetical order. Hed even found time to do a makeshift binding of her magazines by year and label them so she knew which magazine they were without having to pull them down and look.
Oh, she said. Oh, thats niceeek!
He swung her around again and this time she faced the kitchen. The spotless kitchen with all the dishes, pots, and pans put away, the counter and stovetop scrubbed clean, and the four bags of trash shed been meaning to throw in the Dumpster downstairs for the past two weeks finally gone. And she was sure, if she wanted to, she could eat off that kitchen floor.
Wow
Another swing and she was looking into her bedroom. All the clothes that had been on the floor were now in the hamperI have a hamper?and the pile of clean clothes she had in her laundry basket were gone, leading her to believe theyd been folded and put in her chest of drawers. A few had been hung up and put in her closet, which had also been organized, the clothes aligned by size. The shoes, sneakers, and boots shed tossed into the bottom of her closetand then spent an hour every morning trying to find a matching pairwere organized on the closet floor. First her work boots, then her sneakers, then her skates, and finally a very small row of dress shoes and heels.
