I woke to what sounded like an argument and threats of bodily harm. It was a female voice, which would mean Shirley. Uh-oh.
I jumped out of bed and ran into the living room to see Shirley being held firmly against Trent’s chest as she berated and kicked at Thorn, who was yelling right back at her.
“What the f**k is going on here?” I snapped, loud enough to get their attention, and everyone froze.
“Who the f**k is this, Bill? We go away for a few days and come home to find this”—she wrinkled her nose in disgust—”punk on your couch. He smells like a garbage dump. What, are you f*****g strays now? You can’t be that desperate.”
“Shirley!” Trent hissed, shaking her a little. “Calm down. This is none of our business.”
“Of course, it is! We share this house, and what’s more, my dad owns it.
