ROSEANNE
"You're serious," I say to Lisa, grinning as she nods, not the least bit unsure of herself.
"Alright then," I say on a sigh, matching her bet, pushing in all my Tootsie Rolls. "Show me what you got."
She grins before putting down her cards. "Read em' and weep. Flush, baby."
It's when she waggles her eyebrows that I start laughing, because she's pretty cute when she's competitive.
"Before you get too excited..."
I put my cards down, and her face falls instantly, causing me to laugh harder as she stares in disbelief at my royal flush.
"But...but...but..."
I pull the Tootsie rolls toward me, and she suddenly launches herself at me, tackling me to the bed as I laugh. Her lips find the curve of my neck, and I grin as she kisses a small spot there.
"Somehow, you're cheating," she says against my neck.
"I just have an awesome poker face," I say, winding my legs around her waist.
For three days, I've had her all to myself. I've heard that time heals all wounds, but that's not true. Falling in love? That's what makes you forget your anger. If it wasn't for my brother and father, my quest for vengeance would be over.
The media is all over my lawn, which is concerning. Felix had to sneak in and check my secret kill room, making sure no one had tampered with it. Fortunately, no one realizes there's a room inside a room.
Jackson went to my house and retrieved my purse and some clothes for me. He had to take them to work-which Lisa got bitched at endlessly for requesting, since people are still giving Mr. Pretty Boy hell for carrying a purse into the building. They even checked it at the search point, while he waited in the purse line, apparently seething.
I find this hilarious, of course.
Then, he passed it onto Minnie, who put it inside her duffel bag-Jackson was pissed that idea never occurred to him-and she brought it and my clothes to us, so that the media wouldn't learn where we were.
Also, there were some paparazzi shots of Jackson carrying my purse. I really love the things that interest the news some times.
I also hate them. Because that makes moving down my kill list harder.
I'm going to have to speed up the timeline once things settle down. My bruised face was splashed all over the newspaper and such, but everyone wants an interview with the girl who killed a man that managed to elude all types of law enforcement.
So, yeah. I didn't think this all the way through. Being a woman who took down a woman's nightmare has made me an accidental celebrity. Celebrity status is not fun when you're a serial killer who needs a low profile.
Lisa has gone Peter Pan, essentially sewing herself to me like an errant shadow these past few days. Not that I'm complaining. I could get used to having her to myself so much.
Lisa's phone rings, and she groans, still on top of me, as she reaches over and grabs it. My legs stay wound around her waist, keeping her where she is as she answers.
"Manoban."
Her brow furrows, and she lifts off me, frowning. I release my legs from her waist as she stands up completely.
