Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Which is better, Train or Drake?” Killyama’s booted foot began tapping on the floor.
Bliss was afraid to answer the strange woman’s question.
“Well?” Impatience laced her voice.
“It’s impossible to answer that question. It’s like comparing apples and oranges.” Bliss hoped her answer would let her off the hook. It didn’t.
“No, it isn’t. If you could only have one of them in bed, who would it be?”
“Both,” Crazy Bitch joked.
“Shut the fuck up,” Killyama growled at her and then turned to Bliss. “Answer the damn question.”
“Drake.”
Killyama’s face relaxed into a serene mask. “I’ll make sure to pass that information along to Train the next time I see him.” She looked like she was already enjoying the thought of telling Train that Drake was better.
“You don’t like Train?” Bliss tried not to wince when Sex Piston combed out her hair.
“She loves him,” Crazy Bitch said in a sing-song voice.
“Bitch, don’t make me get up,” Killyama threatened her friend. “I don’t love that fucker. I can’t stand him.”
“That’s for sure. You prefer him lying down on his back,” Sex Piston joked, standing back to admire her handiwork. “There. That’s the best I can do.”
Bliss felt her head. The sides were all buzzed off, leaving a small tuft of hair across the top of her scalp in a lopsided Mohawk. Sex Piston had sprayed mousse until it was spiked up. It wasn’t perfect, but it was much better than it had been.
“You look cool,” T.A. complimented, coming closer to look. “You did a good job, Sex Piston.”
“I know,” she said, taking off the cape.
Bliss stood, following T.A. back to the counter to pay. T.A rang her up while she put her coat back on. Bliss then paid, leaving a generous tip, before she went back to Sex Piston’s station.
“Thank you. I appreciate you fixing the mess I made.”
Sex Piston gave her a hard look. “I don’t like bitches who try to take other women’s men. We aren’t ever going to be best friends, but you can come back until I get your hair straightened out.”
Bliss nodded, putting her red hat in her pocket.
She stared at Killyama. “Train likes it when you rub his shoulders. It makes him horny.”
The women around her tensed, waiting for Killyama to beat the shit out of her.
“Anything else?” Interest sparked in her eyes.
“He’s a whore for blow jobs.” Bliss racked her brains for anything else that could help the woman. “Oh, yeah, he really likes blow jobs.”
Killyama stood, and Bliss tensed, waiting for her reaction.
“Sit down, bitch. Tell me what else Train likes.”
Her peace offering had been accepted.
Chapter 14
“Where’s Darcy today? She never misses,” Bliss asked Jessie as soon as breakfast was finished.
“She won’t be coming anymore. She was placed in another foster home. The family she will be staying with has six kids, and the mother stays home with them.”
“Six kids? Darcy will be the seventh?”
“Yes.” Jessie left to wipe up the spilled orange juice on the counter, and Bliss took a group of three children to read them a story.
“Are you okay, Miss Bliss?”
“I’m fine, Marcus.” Bliss furiously blinked back the tears threatening to fall.
“Why are you crying, then?”
“I have something in my eye.”
Bliss managed to hold back more tears as she finished the story.
“Who wants to make a list for Santa?” she asked when she was done. “We’ll put them on the wall so your parents will see and tell Santa when he calls.”
“Santa doesn’t call!” Anna called out. “We go to the supermarket and tell him.”
“I saw him at the bank.” Marcus pushed Anna back so he could be heard.
“Santa is a busy man. We’ll make the list in case you forgot to tell him something.”
“Yay! I forgot to tell him I wanted a new car so Mama will quit crying about ours in the morning when it doesn’t start,” Marcus said, grabbing a piece of construction paper.
Bliss sat down at the large table where the children were working.
Anna raised her head to stare at her quizzically. “What do you want for Christmas, Miss Bliss?”
“I already have everything I want.”
“I wanted a new bike last year, and Santa didn’t bring it.” Cory glued a picture of a bright red bike onto his paper.
Jessie and Bliss had spent lunch cutting out over a hundred things the children could want for Christmas. Since they were sure the parents wanted the tradition of helping their children make their Christmas lists, they had come up with letting them glue the pictures as an alternative.
“You must have been bad. That’s why you didn’t get it,” Anna explained without sympathy. “I got the doll I wanted.”
“Did you get everything you wanted when you were little, Miss Bliss?”
Bliss was only half paying attention to them, her mind on Darcy. She took one of the papers, grabbing a few pictures to fiddle with. “When I was little, I wanted a coat. It had a furry hood and was cream-colored. I thought it was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. It was in a department store my mother and I passed every day.” Bliss didn’t tell them they would walk past the store on the way to the free lunch the church fed the homeless.