Shaking his head, Easton sat and forced a chuckle, hoping to draw Bash out of his murderous contemplation. It worked.
The hatred in Cleaner’s eyes chilled Easton, but he reminded himself the motherfucker wouldn’t try to fuck him up out in the open.
“Sit, Lottie,” Bash ordered, nodding to the chair she stood near.
“I will not sit,” she gritted, “as long as you disrespect me with that silly nickname, Mr. Bash.”
“I clearly remember telling you to call meMr. Caldwell,Lottie. You get the fucking respect you deserve. Now, sit before I lose my fucking patience.”
Huffing, she snatched the chair back and dropped into it. “What can I do for you,sir?” she asked, determined not to refer to Bash as he wanted.
“You’re a stubborn cunt, aren’t you?” Bash said mildly, exchanging a smile with Cleaner.
Easton was so fucking happy that fuckhead was remaining quiet, but he couldn’t help but wonder why. Usually, Cleaner ran his fucking mouth whether Bash approved or not.
Charlotte started to push back from her seat. Easton expelled the metaphorical breath he’d been holding.
“Surely you didn’t abandon Brooks for nothing?” Bash pressed.
“It seems as if I have,” Charlotte snapped. “Did Mr. Donovan put you up to this?”
“The brainless blond?” Bash snickered. “I didn’t tell him about your visit to my clubhouse, so why would he ask me to invite you over?”
“You call Mr. Donovan a brainless blond?” Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “You are smarter than your bloodlines, and appearances, suggest.”
“Kendall was a little hot under the collar that I called her husband a dumb fuckhead, but she did giggle. I think she secretly liked it.”
Easton hoped Johnnie didn’t blow their cover because of Bash’s goading.
“Doubtful,” Charlotte said with a dramatic sigh. “She thinks that man is brilliant. I shouldn’t hold that against her. Love does strange things to a woman. But the way she likes Outlaw and her happiness that he sees her as a “sister”.” Her diamonds sparkled with the movement of her fingers as she made the sign of quotation marks. She snorted. “He’s more ignorant than you. At least you try to sound smart. He makes no effort. Just a couple of days ago, Brooks said he thinks the old Outlaw is returning. Ignorance rubs off because my poor husband made no sense. I couldn’t, in good faith, leave him hanging, so I bit and asked what he meant. It was some convoluted explanation about how Outlaw talks. If he talks one way, he’s supposedlyChristopher. Another way, it’s Outlaw. A combination and he’s just the psychopath we all know him to be.”
“Brooks likes to play with his fucking life, don’t he, Lottie?”
“Brooksdidn’t say that.Idid,” she said proudly. “I think Brooks likes Outlaw as much or more than he likes Mr. Donovan.”
“And you like none of us,” Bash said.
“I likeyoubetter than I do most of those barbarians.EspeciallyOutlaw.”
Bash smiled, then got to his feet, walking around Easton to reach Charlotte and stand behind her. Easton grew uncomfortable, so it didn’t surprise him when Charlotte began to fidget. Bash bent and buried his nose in her neck, sniffing.
“I love the smell of an uppity cunt,” he told her.
She gasped.
Laughing, he straightened and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a six pack and then returning to his seat. He handed Cleaner and Easton each a can, then slid another one across the table.
“Drink up, Lottie.”
Stiffening her shoulders, she lifted her chin and wrinkled her nose. “Beer is beneath me.”
Bash halted, the bottle halfway to his mouth, and grinned slowly. “Exactly what is on par with you?”
“Brooks,” she chirped. “Kendall. My children and grandchildren.”
Bash gulped half the contents of his beer. “Must be a miserable existence, levitating on a plane above us mortal motherfuckers.”
“Thanks to Meggie, my existence is equivalent to any ordinary person and that was not supposed to be my lot in life. Mother and Father must be so disappointed in me.”
