Winners of the tiny Currans have been emailed and announced in the widget. Their names are: Jana Leah, Shez Lyman, Samara Dragstra (Netherlands), Rebecca Kim, and Samantha from Minneapolis.
A taste of Burn For Me for your reading pleasure. Yes, I am bribing you. I am sick and I need to work. I have no content.
My cell phone rang on the table. I never went far without it, even in the house. I picked it up. An unlisted number. Oh goodie.
“I need to talk to you,” Mad Rogan said into the phone. “Meet me for lunch.”
My pulse jumped, my body snapped to attention, and my brain shut down for a second to come to terms with the impact of his voice. I’d slap myself except my mother and grandmother already thought I was nuts, and hurting myself would get me committed for sure.
“Sure, let me get right on that.” Hey, my voice still worked. “Should I bring my own chains this time? Or do you have bigger plans, and this is some sort of freaky murder foreplay”— why did the word foreplay just come out of my mouth?— “and I’ll end up cut up into small pieces inside some freezer at the end? I can just spray myself with mace and shoot myself in the head now and save you the trouble.”
“Are you done?” he asked.
“Just getting started.” I was so brave over the phone.
“Lunch, Ms. Baylor. Concentrate. Pick a place.”
“You seem to be under the impression that I work for you and you can give me orders. Let me fix that.” I hung up.
Grandma looked at my mom. “Did she just hang up on Mad Rogan?”
“Yes, she did. Did you know that Adam Pierce showed up at our house last night?”
Grandma’s eyes went wide. “He was here?”
“She met him outside.”
Grandma swung toward me. “Did you take any pictures?”
My phone beeped. Unlisted number again. I answered it.
“I’m not a man of infinite patience,” Mad Rogan said.
I hung up.
“Pictures or it didn’t happen!” Grandma declared.
I scrolled through my phone and pulled up the shot of Adam Pierce in a Mercer T- shirt. “There you go.”
Grandma grabbed the phone. It beeped. She answered it. “She’ll call you back. Nevada, can I email Adam’s picture to myself?”
“You have to hang up first.” She hung up and clicked the phone, typing with her index fingers. “Arabella is going to flip.”
My mother sighed.
Grandma passed me the phone. “Here’s your phone back.”
His voice was quiet and precise. “If you hang up on me again, I will slice your car into small pieces and hang them on your roof like Christmas wreaths.”