Page 68 of Total Exposure

“Stop it!” I growl into the intercom. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She’s wild. Her eyes dart to a platter propped up against the backsplash, and two quick steps later she’s got it above her head with every intention of throwing it down onto the floor.

“Evangeline!” I yell. “If you do not stop this tantrum, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” she seethes, looking up at a camera mounted in the corner of the kitchen. She whirls around, finds the camera mounted on the breakfast nook fireplace mantle, walks towards it, and knocks it off with a wild swing of the platter.

One of my monitors turns to fuzzy, white snow.

I see red. I rage with anger at her gall. “What the fuck?”

“Come out here,” she demands. “Come out here and stop me!”

“What the hell is your problem?”

“You’ve got five seconds.”

“Evangeline—”

“One.”

“Put that—“

“Two.”

“Plate—“

“Three.”

“Down!”

“Four.” She walks quickly to the next camera and swings, not even bothering to finish the count.

Another screen turns to static and snow. Then another. And another. She takes out every camera in the kitchen and moves to the living room.

Her rage builds, her eyes wild, her hair a mess, falling across her face as she swings, and swings, and swings.

I just sit in my chair and watch her destroy at least ten thousand dollars’ worth of equipment.

Jordan is gonna be pissed.

She takes out every camera she can find. Which leaves me with two on the main floor, the one in the grand foyer chandelier—she can’t find a ladder—and the one in the ballroom chandelier. Thank fuck. Because those chandeliers are probably worth twenty grand each.

When she realizes she’s done all the damage she can, she stops and looks up the stairs. “Don’t do it, bitch,” I mutter to myself. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

She looks up at the foyer camera and smiles.

I lean forward in my chair, press the intercom button, and yell, “Stop!”

“Fuck you! You promised me! You promised! And he left after five seconds!”

She’s nuts. Certifiably nuts.

“You’re acting like a goddamned child!” I yell.

“I am a goddamned child!” She screams it. Top of her fucking lungs, screams it.

But her words stop both of us.