“Come on,” I told her. “We’ll go to my place while we wait for the others.”
While Bentley had been helping to tear down and dismantle the derelict building, I’d been contemplating how I’d leverage Bitch’s early arrival to mend fences and rebuild some trust.
This wording makes Taylor sound kind of manipulative, though I don’t think she is being that. Just trying to work her way through social dynamics like everyone else, with someone who doesn’t really see the same playing board.
I’d decided on something simple, as that seemed to work best with Bitch. I imagined that she hadn’t paid a lot of attention to stuff like food as she took hold of her territory. Odds were good that she’d asked Coil for a lot of easy food she could stuff in her pockets and eat on the go. She probably wouldn’t pay much attention to stuff like seasonings or variety in courses.
The fastest way into a bitch’s heart is through her stomach?
I’d recently spent some time looking back on our past interactions. Her perspective toward me had zig-zagged between a kind of hesitant acceptance and hostility. We’d met, she’d attacked me. We’d gone to the bank robbery, and she’d been open and excited, only to do a one-eighty and start shouting at me after misinterpreting something I said. Two steps forward, one step back.
That last sentence pretty much describes their whole relationship.
Until I’d left the group and then been outed as an undercover operative a short while later. That had been a good solid one-hundred steps back.
Right. She really didn’t take that well.
Recovering from that breach of trust had proven far more difficult than anything that came before. Not quite impossible, though; I’d apparently proved myself in the recent past, because Bitch was making an effort on her end.
That’s why I think this is salvageable now. That’s new.
She was here earlier than I’d asked, for one thing, and she hadn’t murdered me when I asked for a hand with some things I couldn’t handle with my own power.
Not murdering your friends is a good start.