Dirk leaned back on the couch, looking up at the angry woman and the four men she had brought home with her.
She sure knows some losers. Not one of ’em is tough enough to be water boy for the chess team. But he was outnumbered, and the tall, young blond man with the button-down collar and the white-knuckle grip on the baseball bat looked angrier than Beth did. He’s in love with her. Poor kid.
“Something you wanted to tell me, Sweetheart?”
Beth smouldered. “Get the hell out of my apartment and get the hell out of my life.”
“And these gentlemen are the moving company?”
“We are if you’re not out of here in two minutes,” the baseball bat kid growled.
Dirk decided he meant it. The guy had never been in a fight in his life, but anyone that tightly wound wouldn’t stop once he got started. It’d take a shampooer to get all of me out of the carpet.