"Fuck yes! I want to do that next!" She squeals like a kid who just got her way.
Alex looks at me with daggers. "I'm not gay!" He says with a stern voice.
Rachel turns to him with a massive smile on her face, like she is about to brat him more than usual. "No one said you were, big guy." She pats his chest and laughs.
"Don't worry, it will only be your women who get to fuck your ass, and we won't tell anyone." She bends down to kiss his cheek and smiles at him. Honestly, I thought she was going to be worse, but she isn't even really bratty at all.
He grabs her face, making her look at him. “Listen here, little girl. This mouth on you is going to get you punished!"
"You promise?” She bites her lip and laughs.
"Alright, you two, I don't know if I can handle another round. I am tired. So if you go again, have fun." I lay down on our messy, sex smelling bed, roll away from Alex and Rachel, and pass out without a second thought.
Chapter thirty-nine
Alex
IlookoveratOlivia, curled up next to us with the blanket tucked under her chin as she lets out the softest little sigh. She is completely passed out. I know I'm exhausted, and Rachel looks completely spent, too.
"Want to go downstairs, get something to eat, and maybe watch a movie?" I look over at Rachel, hoping she wants to enjoy some snuggle time also.
"Yeah, that sounds great. Let me just take a shower real quick since you ruined the last one." She spins on her heels, throws a middle finger up in the air as she walks to the bathroom, and closes the door behind her. I just shake my head and walk over to my dresser. Putting on a pair of sweatpants, then heading down to the kitchen.
Once I reach the kitchen, I pull out a beer, pop it open, and take a long swig, savoring the taste as it goes down my throat. It's been a long fucking day. And I'm ready for some normalcy in my life again.
I pull out my phone and shoot a text to Oliver.
Me: Everything go smooth?
Oliver: Yeah, but one Starr brother isn't dead.
Me: What the fuck do you mean not dead?
Oliver: Like still breathing?
Me: No shit, Sherlock.
Oliver: Yeah, there are three on the ground here, and the Andrew fuck is dead, but the one you beat to a pulp in the rink is still breathing apparently, and currently at the hospital getting patched up.
What the fuck... I run my hands over my face, trying to come up with a plan to kill him off or at least get him to my fucking basement for questioning.
Me: I'll get a guy on it.
Oliver: I'm already on it. I got a guy who knows some docs at the hospital. So he will be discharged into my custody soon.
Me: You are a fucking lifesaver, dude. Where are you taking him?
Oliver: You want him? I was going to let you choose where he goes. Obviously, I don't have a house here, I am living in Olivia's apartment that has thin ass walls.
Me: Yeah, bring him here, I've got a basement.
Oliver: On it.
I set down my phone on the counter and opened the fridge again. What the fuck am I going to cook? All I see is some lunch meat and some cheese. A sandwich it is.
I start to make the sandwiches when I hear soft footsteps coming down the stairs.
"Hey, so apparently the dude I fought isn't dead; he is in the hospital."
