Mumbling under my breath, I get showered, dressed and ready to start this ridiculous two-week punishment. Working the kitchen on my own, well, I’ll show these assholes how it’s done. Once I’ve dished out my anger on Carrie-Anne, I’m outta here.
Opening the kitchen door and stepping inside, I come to a grinding halt. My eyes flick around what should be a beautiful working kitchen. There are two stoves, both with seven burners and large ovens. Built in microwaves, two of those as well. Oh, and a commercial fridge that is suitable for a restaurant. This place should be a cook’s paradise, but it’s not. It’s a cook’s nightmare!
Food, cartons, mugs, dishes of every kind, pots and pans, all dirty and just dumped for flies and anything else to crawl overit. My stomach heaves a little. I place one hand on my stomach and one over my mouth. I close my eyes to gain control of myself until I hear a noise.
Opening my eyes, I see one of the prospects. Noah, I believe he’s called, watching my reaction to the mess. “I’m sorry, I would help, but we have all been told we can’t do anything for you. We will drive you into town, and back again, but that’s all.”
I give him a nod, turn to the huge sink and pull up my big girl panties. These fuckers are not going to break me. They’ll see what I’m made of, and they’ll not know what’s hit them by the time I’m finished.
It takes a long time to wash all the dishes, cutlery, and pans, and wipe every counter. Breakfast comprises boxes of cereals, milk, and coffee. That is all they are getting until this place is clean.
I start my mass clean by emptying the first cabinet. Take out all the cans and scrub until I’m satisfied. As I’m replacing everything brothers are appearing, complaining about no cooked breakfast, but I ignore them and start the next cabinet. I’m cooking nothing until I know the place is spotless, and once it is, they’d best be on their best behavior.
Whack walks into the kitchen and sees there are no plates of cooked breakfast, no toast, no nothing that they’d expect me to cook. “Where’s breakfast, Molly?”
“On the table,” I snipe back at him, turning and placing my hands on my hips. “I’m cooking nothing in this pigsty until I’m happy the place is clean, and I feel is hygienic. You’ve all been living like pigs in here, and I’m in charge of this kitchen, by your say-so, and this is how it’s going to be. I’m cleaning it out, then I’ll cook meals.”
Whack looks shocked, with a hint of surprise, then respect crosses his face. Nodding at me, he takes a seat and grabs a bowl and a box of cereal. Seeing he’s settling at the table, I pour him a coffee and place it in front of him, which earns me a grunt and a nod.
My morning involves cleaning, discarding spoiled food from the fridge, and investigating the freezer's contents. None of the items in the freezer have labels or dates showing when they were put in. It’s a nightmare, and I decide that it all has to go in the trash. I’m not risking mine, or anyone else’s health.
I’m on the home stretch, I just have to clean tables, and I mean every inch of them, and scrub the floor, and I’ll be ready to go to the store and stock up on food we can actually eat.
Noah is still standing on one side of the kitchen, only leaving now and again when asked by a brother to do something. He keeps giving me looks that tell me he would love to help, but his hands are tied.
“Okay, Noah. I’m ready to go to the store. Do they have an account, or how do I pay for the stuff?”
Noah takes a card out of his prospect cut and holds it up for me to see. I give him a smile, and pick up the shopping list I made and walk out to a truck that Noah points to.
I fill the cart with items for the fridge, including kitchen towels, cleaner, and detergent. The dishwashers are fine from this point, but I would have been waiting far too long for all the washing I had to do this morning.
Noah pays for the overflowing cart, and I push it to the SUV where he has to stand watching me pack it into the bed. I hear people snidely stating he’s not much of a man to stand by andwatch me struggling. At that moment I feel sorry for him, but there is nothing I can do about it, so I get on with what I’m doing.
Once finished, I look at Noah who is more than pissed off. I pat his arm to show I understand, then give a crooked smile. “Okay, Noah, back inside for the freezer stuff.”
“Fuck, how much more, Molly?”
“Enough to refill the freezer with food we can actually eat. The entire kitchen was a nightmare waiting to happen. Who was in charge of the kitchen?”
Noah looks a little embarrassed but replies with tongue in cheek. “The club girls, but Mella is supposed to be the one organizing the kitchen.”
Humming to myself, with disgust I might add, I push the cart to the meat section of the store. I throw into the cart an assortment of chicken and beef, including ground beef and bacon. Sausages, pizzas, hash browns, and fish all follow. Frozen and fresh, I don’t care as long as I have what I want and can freeze. Oh, I see frozen pastry that will be good too.
Pushing the cart through once more, I see Noah itching to help, but biting his cheek to restrain himself. I leave him to pay as I head for the SUV again.
Back at the compound I haul the groceries into the kitchen, and as I’m organizing the freezer Mella walks inside. Giving me a nasty look, she heads for the bags on the table. “Don’t touch the bags.” I snap as I turn to watch what she’s going to do next.
“It’s not your food; it’s the club’s food.” Mella continues to open one of the bags, and my temper rises.
I’m being forced to do all this shit. I’ve cleaned and shopped and I’m tired, hungry, and just fed up with the whole thing. I step forward grab her wrist and pull her away from the bags. “Keep your dirty hands off the bags. We don’t know where your hands have been, and you don’t even know you need to wash your hands first. You are just nasty.”
“Who do you think you are? You can’t speak to me like that.” Mella is looking around, and I know she’s looking to see if anyone is watching before she makes her move. But, I’m ready.
I see Noah enter the kitchen from the corner of my eye at the same time Mella screeches and tries to grab my hair. I in turn grab her wrist, spin so she is behind me, and jerk her over my shoulder. She lands on her back legs akimbo, and oh no, she’s no panties on.
“For fuck’s sake you dirty bitch, you have no underwear on and you come in here to touch the food.”
Trying to get up although she is winded she shows no sign of covering up her womanly parts. “I’m going to kill you.”
