Chapter 96: Russell

Fortunately for Russell, he was more agile than I was at the moment and managed to evade me, though he did nothing to try to escape, snapping pictures of me as I lunged for him, clicking more of the kitchen past the door.

"Get the hell off my property." That sounded about right, growled in Dad's low and threatening cop voice.

But Russell was made of sterner stuff than the average human. I should have known that a mere command would grant me a grin and more photographing. "Make me, sweetheart."

As was extremely apparent, the last eight hours or so of my life hadn't been stellar and having an arrogant jerkwad of a photographer stick a camera in my face and call me sweetheart while basically ignoring my right to privacy was pretty much the perfect culmination of events.

The redhead in me snapped, a shriek building in my chest to the point I am positive, given opportunity, means and motive wouldn't have been remotely in question.