The Bad Boy, The Sat Nav and Me

Chapter 22 - Decapitated Dolls and Disastrous Days

Chapter 22 – Decapitated Dolls and Disastrous Days.

                It was still staring at me. I had come to the conclusion that it was actually staring at me and had grown an attachment which was creepier than it was flattering.

               

                “I honestly cannot keep it anymore,” I told Dylan, shooting him a pleading look. Yesterday, I’d tried leaving it outside a coliseum, barbequing it and dropping it in the bin. All of those plans were cut short by Kenzi, who insisted that she needed to take the bloody thing back. A reason as to why anybody would want that back was beyond me, I’d be paying people to take it.

               

                “You’ve got it till tomorrow,” Dylan taunted.

                “Thanks for the comfort,” I muttered, turning back to the baby. Picking it up by its foot, I carried it into the bathroom and dropped it into shower cubicle, returning to Dylan as I was wiping my hands.

                I was greeted with a raised eyebrow. Hunter, Seb, Kenzi, Alfie and Lee had gone out to look around the local markets. Dylan and I had enough of shopping so went to get some food, some beer and chilled back at the hotel room.

                “What are you gonna do when Kenzi gets back?” he asked, resting his feet on the coffee table. I shrugged, grabbing a can and taking a swig.

                “Tell her I was cleaning it?” I offered. He grinned, shaking his head.

                “Why don’t you just try to find the receipt? You can take it back then.” A grin spread across my face and I was to my feet within seconds. Dylan watched me with interest as I strolled over to the kitchen and started to rummage through the basket where we kept the essentials.

                “She’s got it with her.” I looked up at the sound of the voice, seeing Hunter standing in the doorway. Well, leaning on the doorframe.

                “How do you know what I’m looking for?” I asked. He grinned, shrugging.

                “Because I was looking for it earlier. I’ve had it up to here with the bloody thing.” I nodded, leaning back against the counter with a huff.

                               

                Dylan got to his feet, wiping his palms on his jeans.

                “Right, I’m going for a walk. This hotel room and your girlfriend are both doing my head in.” Dylan winked at me on the way out, fluffing out my hair. Swatting his hand away, I grunted, watching his retreating back.

                “Where’s the kid?” he asked, pushing from the doorframe and shutting the door.

                “Shower.”