“Star! Help! The randy canes ramming into me,” Dixie calls out.
“Let go and I will help all of you,” I tell the mom. She looks at me for a moment, wondering if I’m telling the truth or not, before she gives me a nod and lets go. “Justin’s Bar in one hour. Tell the others. Daycare is on the third floor,” I order. She nods.
I run for Dixie, but Rhea is already there, removing the kids. “Oh, the little shit bit me!” she cries out.
“Hey kids, do you want candy?” Maggie asks, and suddenly all the kids’ attention turns to her. Maggie points to the store across the way. “Then go get it.” She smirks, and like a pack of wild wolves hunting down their next meal, they bolt.
The screams for help echo from the store. They are their problem now. Rhea grabs Dixie’s hand and helps her to her feet. Other moms approach Maggie, hugging her and thanking her. One cries and even grovels at her feet like she’s a saint.
I smirk and climb on top of a giant present. “Mothers!” I yell. They all turn their attention to me. “Call your partners, the grandparents, whoever you can, or drag those feral children to the daycare on the third floor and meet us in Justin’s Bar in one hour. It’s time to let your hair down,” I yell, looking over to Josie, who is holding up her phone.
“You’re live.” She winks.
I roll my eyes. “Moms, Justin’s Bar in one hour. Let your hair down and enjoy a break in this Christmas madness. Be free, bitches!” I yell. The moms cheer, and I jump down. “Okay, let’s go,” I state. We all walk briskly to the toy store, which is now dead. We look around with confusion.
“Where is everyone?” Belle asks.
“They left when they saw your live post,” a worker of the store says, folding her arms and giving me a pissed-off glare.
“Hey, I didn’t record myself. I merely liberated the repressed.” I shrug.
“Yeah, well, I have targets to meet, and now because of you, I won’t meet them.” She huffs.
I look her up and down. “You don’t have kids, do you?” I point out.
“She scrunches up her face. “Ew, no. I hate kids.”
“You hear that? The manager at Toy Universe hates kids,” Josie says to her phone. I smirk.
“You share that, then I will lose my job,” she protests.
“Well, then…” I pause, looking at her name badge. “Debbie, I suggest you go and get my pre-order and this list of other items we need pronto. Between us and the gifts we need to buy, you may just hit your target. But I swear to Lucifer, if you giveme that bitch attitude one more fucking time, not only will that video go live for all to see, but I will introduce you to Dusty,” I threaten.
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Pfft, who’s Dusty? Your redneck boyfriend?”
“Oh, fuck,” Alina mutters.
“Here we go again,” Maggie sighs.
I grin and slide my hand into my pocket, sliding the cold heavy metal onto my hand. “Oh no, Dusty will help me rearrange your fucking face!” I snap, pulling out my hand and thrusting my fist to her face, stopping just millimetres from connecting. She flinches her eyes wide, her skin paling as I shove the list at her chest. “Now go. Get what we need,” I growl.
She shakily wraps her hand around the paper and swallows. “Sure, sorry. I thought you were trailer trash,” she mutters. Rude.
“Trailer trash? These are fucking Gucci!” Belle snaps, pointing to her heels.
I arch my brow at her as I slide Dusty back into my pocket. “Now, if you could stop insulting my family and get on with the job I’ve given you, that would be great, because if we don’t get the presents for the kids and you ruin our Christmas, you’ll have my husband to answer to.” As I say the words, we all tap on the badge on our cuts.
Her eyes widen. “Er, are you part of that club?” she asks, her voice shaking with fear.
A slow smile spreads across my face. “Oh, yes,” I say with far too much enjoyment.
“I will get on that right now. We can even do a home delivery, free of charge, of course. I can do it personally myself,” she rambles on.
“Well, that is kind of you, and you know, we do have a prior engagement after this.” I smirk.
“Star,” Josie whispers beside me. “Be nice. She is actually about to crap her pants.”
I sigh and roll my eyes, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a fifty. “For the delivery and the inconvenience,” I offer.
