Page 70 of Devil’s Disciples

“Oh. Wow.”

I felt like inviting them in to celebrate, but knew it wasn’t a good idea. While the two boyish looking men behind him rocked back and forth on the balls of their feet, I asked the inevitable.

“What did I win?”

“Your choice.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of credit cards. “Either twenty-five hundred dollars in gift certificates from Michael’s, or a truckload of furniture from Jerome’s.”

I felt faint. “Furniture?” I asked, my voice cracking from the emotion. “Like, home furnishings?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How big of a truckload?”

“A big truck, ma’am.”

I pushed my door open and gestured inside. “Look in there.”

He glanced over my shoulder and chuckled. “Moving out?”

“Pretty sad, huh?”

He chuckled. “So sad.”

“I know, right?” I couldn’t believe my luck. It would be so cool to go into Michael’s on a shopping spree, buy I needed furniture worse than I needed anything. “I’ll uhhm.” I swallowed hard. “I’ll take the furniture.”

“If you’d like to follow us down, you can have a look in the truck.”

I glanced at the other two men, and then at him. “You’re for real?”

He turned around. The back of his little brown jacket had a Jerome’s patch sewn to it. It looked pretty legit.

“If you guys try anything, there’s security cameras outside. They’ll have you arrested before you get on the freeway.”

“We’re just delivering furniture, ma’am.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go look.”

While they rode the elevator, I took the stairs two at a time, all the way to the first floor. Out of breath, and excited beyond comprehension, I shoved the front door open.

The three men were standing on the sidewalk. Along the curb, for nearly the entire length of the building, a Jerome’s truck was parked.

My eyes went wide. “That’s a big truck,” I exclaimed.

“Want to have a look?” he asked.

I rushed to the back of the truck and waited to see what type of seasonal offerings Jerome’s had in store for me.

Verizon man unlatched the door and shoved it upward.

Oh. My God.

I covered my mouth and tried not to scream. There was a dining table, end tables, a bedroom set, mattresses, several couches and chairs that were covered in plastic, and countless other furnishings.

I lowered my hands. “Holy crap.”

“Well?”

“I’d uhhm.” As much as I wanted furniture, I really needed a bed. I was sleeping on an old twin bed that was in my guest bedroom. It was cheap, hard, and impossible to sleep on. If the day ever came that Baker slept over, he wouldn’t even be able to fit in it.