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"Chica loca"

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't blow your useless brain right this instant," she barked, waving a gun at my face, standing barefooted, wearing a bra and her pants, and of course, an angry scowl on top. Ignoring her, I turned my face away, burying it into the pillow, and groaned in annoyance.

"WAKE UP SHITHEAD!!! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT?!" Ezra raged and pulled the pillow from under my head.

I rolled my eyes and turned to face her. "What do you want?!" I spat and then remembered the gun. Looking at it, I asked, intrigued, "Where...? Do I even want to know where you got that from?"

"From the guy downstairs... AND DON'T FUCKING CHANGE THE SUBJECT!!! WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?!"

Sitting up, yawning, I wondered, "Is there a chance he's still alive?"

"YOU BAST-" she roared and I raised my hand, stopping her.