Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Fucking asshole.
“He is such a dick,” I muttered.
“And this is news?” Marie asked. “They’re all dicks. It’s sort of a defining characteristic of men, babe. You know, that dangly thing between their legs?”
“I’m going home,” I said. “I can’t take this.”
Maggs stopped laughing and put her hands on her hips.
“You are so not going home,” she said. “Absolutely not. Wasn’t this the plan? To figure out what he really wanted from you? Looks like he stepped up. Doesn’t mean you can’t stick around and have fun with your girls.”
“Oh, I know what he wants from me,” I muttered, feeling miserable. “He wants me to be his property.”
The women all squealed, and Marie tried to give me a hug.
“That kicks ass!” Em said. I shook my head, and they sobered, confused.
“He told me that if I sleep with another guy he’ll cut off his dick and feed it to him,” I said. “And then he told me he wouldn’t make any promises about not sleeping around himself. He did say he wouldn’t bring anyone home, so I guess I’m supposed to feel good about that? Um, no.”
“Ouch,” Marie muttered. “That’s not gonna work.”
“Nope,” Maggs replied. “Although I see where he gets it. Some of these guys, they fuck anything that moves. They have their old ladies at home, ass on the side, and everyone just pretends it’s not happening.”
“Why would anyone think that’s okay?” I asked. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t get it, either,” Marie said. “But it’s not really my business, telling other people how to live. I know what I’d do to Horse, though. He’d be praying for death by the time I finished with him.”
“He would be,” Em added grimly. “Marie’s real good with a gun.”
“Yup, I’d shoot his dick right off, one inch at a time,” she confirmed. “And trust me, he knows it.”
“Well I don’t care how other people live,” I said. “If they want to let their men sleep around, that’s their business. But I’ll be damned if I’ll put up with it. Not good enough for me, and no way I want Noah growing up thinking that’s how you treat a woman. Ruger can take his offer, stick it on a fork, and shove it up his ass. Now I need to find a job and somewhere to live, because I’m sure as hell not living with him any longer.”
Maggs nodded, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out a tiny flask.
“It’s medicinal,” she said gravely. I twisted off the lid and took a quick sniff, which led to a sneezing fit.
“What the hell is that?”
“My own special mix,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. “Trust me, it won’t solve a thing, but you know what it will do?”
“What?”
“Distract you,” she said. “You’ll be too busy trying to put out the fire in your throat. Bottoms up!”
I took a swig. Damned if she wasn’t right.
Four hours later, my throat still burned from Maggs’ special medicine. I’d decided not to leave—the girls convinced me that I shouldn’t let him win by running away.
Making sure Ruger didn’t win was extremely high on my list of priorities.
The party was surprisingly fun. Maggs and I stuck together, seeing as both of us were man-free. She wore Bolt’s property patch so guys left her alone. I wore a ring of hickies that darkened and grew nastier as the night progressed, which may or may not have served the same purpose. It would’ve been totally humiliating, except I’d already decided I didn’t give a flying fuck about any of the Reapers or their sluts.
And there were a lot of sluts floating around, including Blondie from the kitchen. She gave me a nasty little one-finger wave. More showed up every minute, multiplying like rabbits. To be fair, most of them seemed like pretty nice people, but I was heavily invested in hating them.
I kept wondering which ones Ruger had fucked.
The old ladies—there were about ten total—were a different group entirely. I liked them a lot and was sorry I wouldn’t be getting to know them better. Maggs and Marie must’ve spread the word about my situation, because nobody asked me any nosy questions. The girls kept me so busy I hardly had time to think about my humiliation.
I did learn a few interesting things, though.
For one, Maggs shared why Bolt was in jail. It was an ugly story. Apparently he’d been convicted of raping a girl who worked at The Line. We were sitting in a couple of camp chairs over by the playground, watching over the kids, when Maggs started talking about it so matter-of-factly that I thought I hadn’t heard her right at first.
“Um …” I said, desperately searching for some kind of response. What do you say when someone tells you her man’s in jail for rape?
“He didn’t do it,” she said, shrugging. “He got set up.”