Sneak Peek Wednesday: A Chip on Her Shoulder by R.J. Blain

My brother sat his furry ass down, which offered some hope Jonas was still in his chipmunk body somewhere—or at least understood some English.
Almost two hundred dollars later but with enough toys, treats, and chews to keep my brother fed for six months, I left the pet store, loaded my brother’s car with his new habitat, and returned home.
One of the mafia goons waited for me on my doorstep, and I considered digging out the pistol hidden in my brother’s glove box. Narrowing my eyes, I leaned over, popped it open, and grabbed the weapon, checking the magazine that it had been properly loaded with bullets and making sure a round was in the chamber and ready for duty
I got out with my purse slung over my shoulder, my brother’s gun in one hand and my brother’s cage in the other. “You sent your invitation already, so you get the fuck off my lawn, or I’ll send you
back to your family with a new hole. If you’re lucky, I’ll patch it before tossing you into the street so you don’t make a mess on my grass.”
As I’d expected my brother to get me into shit one way or another, I stepped so I presented as small a target as possible, extended the firearm, and waited.
The shock on his face amused me.
Revenge would be far more fun if they offered me a little challenge while I destroyed them. After all, I needed to achieve my gold standard and make the Devil cringe.
I smiled for my unwanted guest. “Did you really expect me to go unarmed after I had a gun held to my head once already today? Obviously, since you’re on my doorstep probably trying to deliver some new threat. Deliver it, then you get your ass the fuck off my property. You’ve finished your business with my brother, you’ve issued your threats, and while my brother may have broken the law, I haven’t, this is my house, and I will call the cops.”
“You’ll call the cops?”
“A bunch of men broke into my house, turned my brother into a chipmunk, and threatened me.
Unlike my idiot brother here, I have a clean record and no association with you cockwombles. So, yes. I fully intend to call the cops, and if I have to shoot you first for being on my lawn and trespassing, well, that’s a pity, isn’t it?”
“How did an ass like him have a sister like you?”
“I’d say ask our ma, but she abandoned ship.” That was better than saying she’d died and left me the house since she hadn’t trusted my brother. The way I figured it, she’d been one hell of a smart woman, and I hoped she was taking over heaven along with our pa.
Nobody believed our pa had been a well-respected pastor.
He hadn’t taken the emergence well, growing up with his religious beliefs challenged by the strange and stranger. Some days, I wished the angel hadn’t come calling. My pa might’ve lived a little longer that way.
Then again, maybe not. His heart would’ve given out on him eventually.
While I usually practiced good trigger discipline, I eased my finger onto the trigger to make it clear I’d shoot if given a single excuse. “Well, what’ll it be? You going to leave peacefully, or will I be shooting you before I call the cops?”
“We don’t need to bring the cops into this.”
“You’re a lot dumber than you look. You used a transformative on him. That’s permanent. Law says I’ve gotta report his new status as a chipmunk. If you braindead morons wanted to keep the cops out of it, you should’ve done something else.”
“You’re one of those law-abiding goody-goodies?”
“I get a paycheck for becoming my brother’s caretaker, and they might be able to help me restore him back to human. If you didn’t want me calling the cops, you should have picked a different plan.
Now get the fuck off my property. The safety is off, a round is chambered, and what’s one less one of you thugs out to bother people?”