Free Fire & Brimstone: A Neighbor from Hell by R.L. Mathewson

tooth?”
                  Shaking her head, she finished the bite of pie that she was working on and said, “No, she’s addicted to carbs, like cakes, cookies, muffins, donuts, that sort of thing. She’s decided to cut back on those if I have diabetes to be supportive.”
                  “That’s nice of her,” he said absently, not sure that he’d be willing to give up one of the five food groups for anyone.
                  “Yeah, I guess,” she said, absently breaking apart a small piece of crust as she sat there, gazing down at the pie, looking lost in thought.
                  “Is that why you’re binging on pie? Just in case it comes back positive?” he asked, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
                  She shrugged as she continued turning that piece of crust into a small pile of crumbs. “I have a tendency to eat too much when I’m stressed.”
                  “I see,” he said, wondering if it would be considered rude if he finished off the rest of the pie and ice cream and wondering why he suddenly cared.
                  “Yeah,” she mumbled, starting to look a little pale.
                  “Are you okay?” he asked when it became obvious that she wasn’t. He knew that look well enough to know that she was about to race to the nearest bathroom, making him wonder if Melanie was right about her being diabetic.
                  He reached over and pulled her stool out for her, nodding when she gave him a muttered, “Thanks,” and watched as she raced towards the back of the restaurant where the bathrooms and the backstairs leading upstairs were located.
                  Sighing, he returned his attention to the pie, absently stabbing it with his fork as he made the decision to kick his brother’s ass if he didn’t figure this out before it broke her.

Chapter 10
                  “Mojo, move,” she said weakly as she dropped on the bed and curled up on her side, not at all surprised when Mojo ignored her request and did the opposite, stretching out and nearly shoving her off the bed.
                  “Thanks,” she said dryly as she curled up, kicking herself for not grabbing a can of Coke on the way to her bedroom so that she could die in comfort.
                  “Mojo, go get Mommy a Coke,” she said as she closed her eyes and curled up into herself, thankful for the small space the dog allowed her.
                  Maybe she should look into obedience class again, but at nearly two years old he was probably set in his ways. Maybe if she promised to let him have all the leftovers in the fridge he’d let her have the bed? It was worth a shot, she decided as she mentally prepared herself for the grueling task of crawling off the bed and walking the thirty or so feet to the kitchen and back. 
                  She really needed to look into getting a mini-fridge for her room.
                  Groaning, and no, she really didn’t care how pathetic she sounded at the moment, she opened her eyes and tried to roll over onto her back, but Mojo’s massive paws stopped her. Deciding that it was just too much work after all, she closed her eyes, curled back onto her side and tried to think about anything other than how much her stomach hurt.
                  “Mojo, move,” Lucifer, a man that she was pretty sure that she hadn’t invited into her bedroom, never mind her apartment, said.
                  Too sick to open her eyes, she grumbled, “He’s not going to listen,” just as she felt the massive dog that clearly didn’t understand the meaning of loyalty, move away from her. A few seconds later, she heard Mojo grunt as he climbed off the bed.
                  “How did you get in here?” she asked, although she had several questions, she decided