“I’m not lighting Joker’s father’s house on fire,” I whispered, aghast.

“We’ll call the fire department before so there won’t be much damage,” Tabby reiterated.

“You are so your father’s daughter,” Tyra mumbled, but she sounded almost proud.

“That’s arson, that would be a felony,” I told them.

“This is vandalism,” Elvira shared, tossing a hand out to the truck.

“I know, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a felony,” I replied.

“There is felony vandalism,” Elvira returned.

Oh no.

Was there?

Was keying a car felony vandalism?

Maybe it was. It was a nice truck. Newish. Clean. He obviously took care of it, which meant he cared about it.

To get that fixed, it would probably cost a lot of money.

“Uh-oh,” Elvira muttered as I considered the alarming possibility that I hadn’t committed a misdemeanor, I’d actually committed a felony.

“Let’s go,” Lanie whispered.

“What the fuck!” a man yelled.

I jumped, whirled around and tipped my head back to stare at Joker’s very angry-looking father.

Uh-oh.

“We’re gone, let’s go,” Tyra said urgently.

That sounded like a good idea.

I started to do that when Joker’s dad asked, “You key my truck?” I kept trying to go but didn’t get very far when he grabbed my upper arm tight and thundered, “Bitch! You key my truck?”

His hand hurt.

And he was touching me.

Therefore, without thought, I wrenched my arm free, reared back with my other one, keys still in position, and I swung at him with all I was worth, putting my full body into it.

“Ow!” I yelped as the impact cracked through my hand and sliced through my palm, where I held the keys.

“Jesus, fuck!” he yelled, not having anticipated my actions, so the likely puny blow I landed took him by surprise, which took him back two paces, his upper body jerking to the side, his hands coming up to his face.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” Tabby yelled, grabbing my hand and pulling me.

I watched in horror, keys dangling from where I was pressing them at the junction between thumb and forefinger as I shook the sting out of my hand, while he righted himself.

I saw the mark.

I’d torn through the flesh of his cheek with my key and he was bleeding.

Profusely.

And he looked mad.

Seriously.

I turned on my stiletto heeled booties and ran.

“Follow the leader!” Tyra yelled.

“Got it!” Tabby yelled back. “I’m with Curly.”

Curly?

We made it to the red wreck and she pulled my keys out of my hand.

“I drive,” she declared.

I was shaking top to toe so I was okay with that.

I dashed to the passenger side just as Joker’s dad made it to the car.

Luckily, Tabby was already in.

Blood pouring down his cheek, he tore open her door, and I squealed as he went for her but she went for the ignition.