They laughed harder. For the very first time in my life I gave serious thought to punching someone in the face. Totally would’ve done it, too, if the world hadn’t started spinning on me.
“Sorry,” Marie finally managed to say. “I can think of a thousand different descriptions for our guys, but ‘nice’ generally isn’t one of them. And no, you aren’t an old lady yet—being someone’s old lady is more than being their girlfriend. It means the whole club has accepted you as an official partner, and they support the relationship. Maybe you’ll be an old lady at some point, but that’s something Painter would talk to the club about first.”
Sophie nodded. “They have some sort of supersecret process for it. Ruger won’t tell me shit about it, but I think it mostly involves an announcement and then drinking beer together. But they can’t possibly tell us that, you know? Gotta keep the mystery . . .”
“Oh,” I said, swaying. Chair. I needed a chair or something. Standing was way too hard. I looked around, spotting an empty folding chair near the wall. I wandered toward it, slumping down as my phone buzzed.
PAINTER: What the fuck is going on? Hunter just texted me a picture of you climbing around on some naked guy.
Oh shit.
ME: It’s not what it looks like.
PAINTER: You got one hand on his chest and the other on his dick
ME: I swear, Kit and Jessica set me up. Em may be in on it too. Kit and Jess together are like some nasty demon bigger than its indiviudiual parts. They get together an things like this happn. I think we need one of those priests to come and cast the devls out
He didn’t respond right away. Finally my phone buzzed again.
PAINTER: Drunk?
ME: There was something in the punch . . .
PAINTER: Where are you?
ME: Dancers house. It’s the bachelorette party
PAINTER: Got it. FYI—don’t ever drink Dancer’s punch again. I’ll send someone to get you, okay?
ME: ok
“Babe!” Marie shouted, distracting me. She ran toward the front door, jumping up and wrapping her legs around a giant man who’d just stepped inside. Horse was a big guy—even taller than Painter—and Marie looked like a little monkey hanging off him.
Reese stepped in past them, taking in the scene.
Kit was sitting on the floor, giggling as she flipped through her phone. Em gave him a thumbs-up as she finished chugging a big cup of punch. Jess had disappeared completely. Reese stalked over to the entertainment center, turning off the music with a flick of his finger. Silence fell, and then Em gave a loud burp.
“Excuse me,” she said, wiping her mouth delicately with the bottom of her shirt.
“Fuckin’ girls,” Reese said, shaking his head. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Hey,” London said, coming up to wrap her arms around him. She kissed the side of his face, which seemed to soothe Reese. Kit stood slowly, then walked over to stand right in front of her father.
“This is what happens to people who get married secretly,” she said, poking a finger into his chest. “Don’t do it again.”
A smile quirked the edges of Reese’s mouth. Then he dropped his hand down to give Loni’s butt a squeeze. Ewwww . . . Kit and I exchanged a look, and I could tell she was thinking the exact same thing that I was. Old people shouldn’t be having sex.
“If I promise I won’t get married again without telling you, will you stop destroying people’s lives in search of revenge?”
Kit considered his words carefully.
“I’ll try,” she said, nodding. “I suppose you’re forgiven. This time.”
“Wow, I’m just so fuckin’ relieved to hear that,” he replied. “Now I won’t have to cry myself to sleep tonight.”
PAINTER
I needed to slow down.
Every time I thought about Mel and that fucking stripper, I found myself pushing the bike’s speed higher. Couldn’t quite decide what I should do first when I got home—strangle the Hayes girls or slit Mr. Banana Hammock’s throat.