I mean, why should I be slightly surprised, he is a bitch after all. I just thought he’d want to handle me himself.
“You don’t scare me, you tatted piece of shit,” Muncy carps out angrily. “Now, get the fuck out of my way before I put you in cuffs right next to her.”
Hot Rod and Juice don’t move, something Levi would be proud of. He couldn’t have picked a better pair to hold the fort down while he’s gone.
“It’s alright, guys,” I mutter through my quickening pulse, fully aware there is nothing they can do to save me from this shit unless they actually take Muncy out right here and now. They can’t. “Figure it out.”
And what I mean by that, is figure a way to get me out.
Without Hot Rod and Juice out on the streets, that leaves South Shore vulnerable, and them unable to get me out of jail.
Fuck, Mae is in the shower, and Ellie is grieving in her room.
“I need one of you to go check on the girls,” I tack on evenly. “Pizza, cookie dough, and Superman ice cream. I need one of you to get those.”
Juice turns on his heel, giving his back to Muncy, and hits me with a calm and even expression. “You sure about this?”
I bow my head once because he knows just as well as I do, unless they act and kill the sheriff—which will bring more heat down on us—this is the way it has to go down.
Juice moves, but Hot Rod remains in his spot for a few more agonizing moments before he steps away, accepting the fate that I brought literally to my doorstep.
Levi is going to be pissed, but he’s not here right now, and I’ll take the blame for everything—the shooting, obviously, the ridding of Nessa’s body—if it means the boys remain safe.
Muncy reaches behind him, retrieving a pair of cuffs from his belt, and I roll my eyes. “Bay Astor, you have the right to remain?—”
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I ground out, stepping out from behind the glass door and onto the porch.
Squeezing between Muncy’s body and Hot Rod’s, The Nameless part for me as I stride down the sidewalk and toward Muncy’s squad car. I’m not going to be restrained and thrown in cuffs with Ellie and Mae somewhere in the house.
I reach for the door to the backseat, and it’s locked.
I sigh. “Are you going to open this thing?”
Turning, Muncy is being glowered at and purposely bumped into by every guy he passes. A silent warning Muncy is pushing a line, and he’s going to pay heavily for it.
So am I.
TWENTY-ONE
bay
“That reignof yours didn’t last that long, did it?” Muncy drops a box of donuts on his desk with an unforgiving thud and rounds his desk to his chair. “Queen of South Shore. How long have you been waiting for that?”
I really don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, but he’s been driving me fucking crazy since he half-ass arrested me and brought me to his domain of jail cells and stale air.
A squad of motorcycles followed us here—The Nameless—and even behind bars, I still feel safe.
Muncy can taunt me all he wants with his threats and small talk. I’m here to buy some time for the boys to get me out.
He steals a glance at me when I don’t answer him because I never said I was queen of anything. But I’m not entirely sure if Juice and Hot Rod have put the title out just to scare Muncy or if it’s going to become a thing.
Again, don’t want it, never have, but I don’t believe I’m privy to all the dealings Hot Rod, Juice, and Levi have conjured up in their heads.
Regardless, I’m not saying shit until I’m supposed to.
“Obviously, you’re not fit for the job,” Muncy continues, cracking open the box of donuts. “Sending a murder pic to your ex just for shits and giggles? Stupid-ass move, if you ask me.”
No one asked him. But that’s not going to stop this prick from talking.
