Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Farrow laughs hard, and fuck it, I laugh too. I wish my brother were here. He’d be rolling over in laughter just knowing my girlfriend is three dick pics richer. And how she tucked the phone to her chest like she was guarding the Hope Diamond.
I test the radio. “What I do for love and pussy.”
Amen, Banks would say. Not hearing it just makes me miss him more.
Quinn Oliveira joins us right after the words leave my mouth, and the air strains. Oscar assesses his little brother, to see if he’s okay. Last I heard, they weren’t talking since Quinn punched him.
Oscar nods. “I’m cool if you are, bro.”
Quinn nods back. “Yeah, I’m cool.”
Tension gone, Oscar picks up the conversation. “I could cheers to that: love, pussy, and add in good dick.”
Farrow quips, “What’s bad dick feel like, Oliveira?”
“I don’t know, Redford, you tell me. You’re the one who slept with that redheaded witch.” He brings up Rowin Hart, his ex-boyfriend, who almost assaulted Maximoff in Greece.
Farrow cringes into a sip of beer. “He’s worse than a witch, but nice try.”
Quinn interjects, “Why’s Akara hanging out with the Epsilon douche-bros?”
Our heads turn.
Akara is in a conversation with O’Malley, more than Tony, but they’re all on the red-green plaid couch, the SFE guards pocketing wads of bills they won.
I shut off the powered radio. “Recon.”
Quinn scrunches his face. “What?”
“Keep your enemies close, Quinnie,” Donnelly says.
“But not too close,” Farrow advises.
My jaw hardens as I suddenly zone in on a target. Tony is smiling over at Jane like she’s a chick in a bar he wants to fuck-and-chuck, and my blood is boiling. Muscles flexed, and I barely hear the guys talking about a game of charades tonight. To lighten the mood for Christmas Eve.
If Tony stands up, I’m Oscar Mike.
I will shove off and shove him back from her before his eye twitches in a fucking wink.
He folds his hands behind his head, then looks at me.
Good.
Stay the hell away from her. Tony thinks I’m Banks, but my brother would be just as protective of Jane as I would of his girlfriend (if he had one).
I glare, and the more I stab him between the eyes, the more he grins. He smacks O’Malley’s chest, stealing his attention, and very loudly, he says, “You know that Banks’ brother does butt stuff?” He laughs.
That affects me about as much as chugging water, but it shoots a bullet through multiple people.
“Excuse me?” Jane springs to her feet, and Maximoff stands at her side.
Farrow and Oscar are glaring at Tony.
I carefully watch Jane as she marches to the couch and confronts him. She can handle her own, but it fucking kills me knowing he won’t respect a word she says.
“What?” Tony playfully crosses his arms, still seated.
“I want to know why you laughed like that was an insult,” Jane demands. “Please, share with us.”
Tony lets out another laugh and raises a patronizing hand. “Hey, Jane, it’s okay if your boyfriend wants you to play with his asshole. It just makes him a little less, you know…manly.”
You could hear a pin drop.
I don’t blink. More focused on her anger than anything.
“Someone educate this motherfucker,” Oscar says under his breath.
Farrow catches Maximoff’s wrist before he storms Tony, and he brings his fiancé’s shoulders and back into his chest. “He’s not worth it, wolf scout.”
“First of all—” Jane raises a pointer finger “—men are not less masculine for having anything in their ass—”
“But it makes them gay,” Tony cuts her off with a smirk.
Jane steeples her hands. “No, it doesn’t. You see, every man has a prostate gland, and prostate stimulation is not an indication of sexual orientation. It feels immensely good to some, and you can enjoy this very much and prefer any gender.”
“There we go,” Farrow says quietly.
Tony leans comfortably back and smiles up at Jane. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”
Jane stews. “I feel sorry for you, that you can’t see how insecure you are and how secure he is. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.”
I hit the jackpot with this girl, and holy hell, I’m smiling.
Until I see a switch in Tony.
His eyes go dark.
It kicks my ass to a stance.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jane.” He stands, puffing out his chest. “Go sit down—”
“Hey,” I cut in, my stride severe. Urgent. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
Tony uses his height to loom over Jane. To physically intimidate her—and I bolt, fury blasting in my veins, and I draw her behind me in an instant, and I confront him full-force.
I’m not shoving him back.
I’m done with that shit.
I fist his shirt and pull him up, his feet off the ground.
He curses me out in Italian and swings. Knuckles bash my jaw, pain lost under adrenaline and rage, and I head-butt the fuckbag and throw him on the floor.