Chapter 160

She stared at Poppy—so composed in her cashmere, with her tea. “You don’t seem like an angry person.”

“Therapy. And”—she gave a slightly wry smile—“Colt, oddly enough. She understands wild things. Sometimes he just takes me out into the middle of nowhere, and I screams until there are no screams left. Then we lie in the bed of her truck and watch the sun set and the stars come out.”

“That sounds way better than therapy.”

“And there’s always action movies.” She made an absolutely ferocious face and mimed firing what I presumed was an automatic weapon. “Eat this, motherbitches. Very cathartic. Especially if you have an unholy vendetta against blue screens.”

Cole burst into rapturous applause. “And the award for best motherbitches goes to…”

“Now you know why I’m an actor, not a writer.” Poppy put down her gun. “But you are, aren’t you? Nikki said you were a journalist?”

“Well, I’m working on it.” Cole was doing it again. She took a breath a