“Sasha sent Viper a selfie of her giving Moon a blowjob,” Winter blurted out.
“She sent one to Razer, too. It was in a group text.” Beth’s usual good-natured demeanor was missing.
Winter gave her a sardonic look. “I bet his didn’t mention getting rid of his wife.”
“No, it definitely didn’t say that. If it had, I would have pulled a Crazy Bitch and taken a bat to her.” Beth’s eyes flashed sparks. “I’d had already warned Razer he better not give her a marker to vote her in, because of how she looks at the married men. The text confirmed my opinion of her.”
“What did he say?” Winter asked, wide-eyed. Beth never intervened between the men and women. She had learned that lesson from Shade when Lily and he had been fighting. Shade had told her to stay out of his marriage after one argument, and as far as she knew, she had.
“He said he wouldn’t.” Beth looked down when her cell phone beeped with a message. “I need to go. Cash is outside.”
Beth went to the door, but Winter stopped her, sensing there was something she wasn’t saying.
“What is it?”
Beth seemed as if she didn’t want to answer, giving her a sympathetic look.
“Tell me,” Winter begged.
“Viper gave her the last vote she needed the night she left with Moon.”
Winter showered after Beth left. She washed her hair that she had painstakingly grown out after she and Viper had married.
She was too heartbroken to cry. It seemed every dream of her and Viper’s marriage was as intangible as smoke. She had dreamed of their home one day being filled with children. Dreamed they would grow old together, surrounded by the Last Riders and their families. Now it was one of the Last Riders who was tearing them apart.
Dressing in her shorts and tank top, she went downstairs to find that Beth had left dinner warming in the oven. She recognized the scent of lasagna, her stomach growling at the smell.
She made her and her aunt both a plate then set the table in the dining room with large glasses of ice water. Everything ready, she peeked into her aunt’s bedroom to see she was working on one of her crossword puzzles.
“Dinner’s ready,” Winter told her, as she went to her side to help her out of bed. She held on to her aunt’s arm as they walked to her dining room.
“It smells delicious,” Aunt Shay said, looking at the bubbling lasagna.
“It is.” Beth was an excellent cook. She and Lily both loved Italian food. Winter teased them every Pasta Monday, when it was Beth’s turn to make dinner, and Lily’s Pizza Thursday.
Winter gave each of them heaping plates of lasagna, and a large slice of bread that she had broiled and buttered. Surprisingly, Aunt Shay ate most of her plate, while Winter struggled to finish hers.
“If I keep eating like this, Dr. Price will put me on a diet.” Her aunt took another piece of the bread.
“Me, too.” Winter sat back, patting her full belly that couldn’t hold more than half a plate. It had been too long since she had eaten much. “Beth made a chocolate pie. Do you want me to get you a slice, or do you want to save it for later?”
“Later. We can eat some after the new zombie movie Beth brought me… if you’re not too tired. I don’t want you too worn out to go to work in the morning.”
“I took the next two weeks off,” Winter told her, as she gathered the dishes before carrying them to the sink. “What movie did Beth bring?”
“Zombie Doomsday.”
Winter had to smile at that.
After she rinsed the dishes and loaded them in the dishwasher, they moved to her aunt’s bedroom, where Aunt Shay lay down on the bed as Winter started the movie.
“Turn off the lights,” Aunt Shay requested, eagerly stacking her pillow against the headboard to lean back on.
Winter rolled her eyes, threatening, “I’m going to talk to Beth about feeding this obsession for scary movies of yours.”
“Don’t you dare! She’ll make me start watching The Sound of Music again.”
Winter turned off the light before climbing into bed next to her aunt. Halfway through the movie, she was close to prying away one of the pillows behind her back to hide her face. She felt like she was going to heave when one particular zombie tore a screaming woman into shreds in seconds. Meanwhile, her aunt had no trouble watching the gruesome scenes, riveted.
“I’m going to go get you your pie,” she excused herself, making sure to keep her eyes averted from the television screen as she escaped from the room.
“Don’t be long. He just saw someone hiding in the shed.”
“I won’t.” She had every intention of missing that, especially when she heard a shrill scream from the television.
In the kitchen, she cut her aunt a generous slice of a pie, but her stomach was too queasy from the gore to eat one herself. Then she put the pie back in the refrigerator and took out the whipped cream. She placed a big mound on top of the slice then squirted a large dollop on her finger, lifting it to her mouth.