At first, it's funny. The idea of it is pretty fucking hilarious, Kate all done up like some kind of Viking superhero with some bigass wig. By the time she's done, though, I've gone tense, looking over at her and trying not to let the rage burn me up under my skin.

She made her own fucking choices and I shouldn't be pissed off, but I can't help imagining what that would entail. How easy it would be for guys to try and take advantage of her. It isn't the same thing at all, but I still think about Amber and the guys who followed her around, interchangeable assholes. I think about the couch I set on fire.

"What do you mean, business?" I ask tightly. "None of them hurt you, did they?"