Page 111
Heather’s hand is around the back of his neck as she walks him down the final steps. Ben is broad enough that she should look ridiculous controlling him that way. A palm print colors one side of his face, and he favors his left side when he walks.
Jamie looks up from the stove. His eyes find Ben and immediately drop to the pan again.
They reach the table and she points at the chair across from me, beside her, where Jamie usually sits. “Sit.”
I glance toward the chair at the opposite end of the table. Jamie has apparently been displaced.
Ben’s jaw tightens, but he lowers himself into the chair. He gives me a quick inspection before his attention moves past me and settles on Jamie in the kitchen. It stays there.
Jamie comes out carrying two plates, looking entirely unsuited to kitchen work. Heather dressed him beautifully, right down to the makeup, and somehow, he’s managed breakfast without putting so much as a spot on himself.
He sets a plate at Heather’s chair, and one at mine, then returns to the kitchen and collects the last two. He puts his down first and then Ben’s.
Ben looks at the plate and grins. “What the fuck is this crap?”
Heather pulls out her ruler. “Hand.”
“No.”
She taps the ruler against her palm. “That’s two.”
He lays his hand on the table and stares her dead in the eyes. “That food is garbage.”
She brings the ruler down three times over the same spot. Ben doesn’t pull his hand away.
“When you get your shit together, food is your use. Jamie can go back to being pretty.”
Ben looks at Jamie. Then he pushes his hand farther across the table. “Again.”
Heather slides the ruler back into her pocket. Then she takes Jamie’s jaw. “Breakfast looks lovely, good boy.”
She releases Jamie, sits down, and begins eating.
Ben’s hand remains palm-up between them. Ben catches me watching him. He takes his hand back slowly.
Heather takes a bite of her eggs, meeting my eyes while she chews. She swallows and turns her attention to Ben. “Is there anything I need to know about last night?”
My fork stops halfway to my mouth.
Ben pushes the food around his plate. “I was a little fucking out of it.”
Heather looks at me again. I put the bite in my mouth.
Jamie shifts in his chair. “Oliver asked him for his wrong name.”
I drop my fork. Heather smiles at me.
Ben turns to Jamie. “You little fucking rat.”
Heather smacks his mouth so fast he doesn’t have time to react. “You will not speak ugly words to each other.”
“I’ll teach that little asshole to keep his fucking mouth shut,” Ben says.
Heather is on her feet so fast her chair falls back. Her hand goes to his throat. The stun baton is in her hand. “I’m the fucking teacher here.”
Ben swallows.
“Tell Jamie you’re sorry.” Her thumb settles over the switch.
