Her mother moved to retaliate, and Colt pulled back out of the way. There wasn’t much heart behind the swing, either. Not for the mom. The teenager tugged to try to free her arm, and when she couldn’t, she swung again. Not a slap this time, but a punch.

Kenzie looked away before the second punch could land. She didn’t look back for the third or fourth.

“Shitty name girl’s got grit,” Chris said.

“No,” I said. “I don’t think that’s grit.”

“Colt!” the father hollered the word, on emerging from the nail salon. Colt backed away, arm free of her mother’s grip, while the father advanced.

Nailbiter stepped forward and to the side, to put herself between Colt and her father. The father stopped in his tracks. He looked at his wife, then leaned over for a closer look, touching her cheek where it already looked like it was going to be a heck of a bruise.

He and his wife stood together as they squared off against Nailbiter.

“She’s mine, now,” Nailbiter said.

“Are you, Colt?” the father asked. He got angrier as he talked, “Are you hers? You’d hit your mother, who sacrificed so much for you?”

Colt looked spooked, in that moment. Kenzie zoomed the camera in further, moving the mouse.

It was Erin who said something. “Say no.”

“Fine. I’m hers,” Colt said. “Fuck this. At least she pays me.”

“Brave sounding words, while you’re standing behind her. You’re not going to stand aside, let us handle this as a family?”

“No,” Nailbiter said. “She’s an employee.”

“I don’t want trouble,” the father said. “We can leave it at this.”

“If you want,” Nailbiter said.

“Good,” Colt said. “Leave it and fuck off.”

“Don’t come home,” the father said, and his voice was hard, now. “Don’t show your face in front of me, your mother, or Reese again. Be her errand girl. I’m done trying with you.”

Colt was silent.

“Patience lost,” Nailbiter said, the dry whistle catching on the ‘s’ of Lost. “I’m going.”

“Mom?” Colt asked. I heard her ask that, and I wondered if she wanted her mother to grab her, to drag her away.

“What are you asking me for?” Tammy asked, one hand at the side of her face. “If you’re going to go, then go.”

“Yeah?” Colt asked. She spat the words, “Fuck you.”

“I’ll be by next week to collect,” Nailbiter said. “See you then.”

Another whistle on the ‘s’ of ‘see.’ Nailbiter and Colt walked away. The father hugged his wife.

“Is this kidnapping?” Sveta asked.

“No,” Tristan said.

I shook my head. “We could call authorities, but I have a hard time believing we’ll be able to get cops out there, and have them take action with a nearly-18 person who doesn’t want to cooperate or go back home.”