“Maybe I did,” the male voice said.
“That"s not funny.” The irritation was obvious in both voices and Todd knew it had to be his parents. He looked up to see both of them standing over him, neither one bothering to help him up.
He pulled himself up, his head still reeling from whatever his father hit him with. He pulled his hand away long enough to glance at it and saw blood. Jesus, he thought. Just what I need.
Jesus,Just what I need.“Why"d you hit me?” he asked his father, who shrugged.
“What were you doing climbing through the window?”
“The door was locked.”
“Ever heard of knocking?”
Todd glared at his dad, wondering if the man had put any thought into the question.
“I"ll get something for your head,” his mother chimed in and left the room in a hurry.
“What were you guys doing
