“Already did,” I sigh, leaning back in my chair, eyes closing. They snap open again the moment Five-Star pipes up with another stupid question.
“If cockpits exist, why are there no pussypits?”
And that’s my cue to leave.
Adora
“You didn’t fuck up with your pranks, Adora,” Temperance says, her voice hard. “Healing isn’t a straight line. It’s more like a bunch of sidesteps. What’s important is that you move forward.”
She pauses, taking a slow sip of wine. “And you’re doing so much better than just a few months ago. Give yourself some grace. At least you didn’t violently spank him with a spiked paddle. Nowthatmight be called unhealthy.” She chuckles quietly. “But it’s also so fucking satisfying.”
“I would’ve just killed him,” Ria declares casually, glancing at the cards in her hand, then at me. “Now what would your mighty therapist say about that?” She smiles sweetly. “Got any sevens?”
“Go fish, you little menace,” I grumble, turning to Temperance. “I would’ve loved to see that spanking. Why the hell didn’t you record it?” I purse my lips in thought. “Got any Queens?”
“I’m a queen,” she laughs, “but you can go fish, Princess. Also, if you want to recreate the spanking, the paddle’s right there on the wall.”
I twist my face, thinking about it. “I can’t,” I say simply, and leave it at that.
Going into the details would be an open invitation to mental disaster. I’ve been on edge ever since my last therapy session. There’s too much happening. Too much pressing in. The thought of asking Ghost about his time in prison is committing murder on my own brain. But I want to know. Need to know. Otherwise it’ll always feel like there’s a bomb somewhere out there in the world, waiting to implode my whole life.
“What did Ghostberry say when he got home with his ass in tatters that day?” Ria asks, eyes wide with curiosity.
I look at my cards, frowning. I’m definitely not winning this game. “He didn’t try to hide it. He told me what happened,” I chuckle. “Said he got revenge-spanked by Bones’ ex.”
What I don’t say is how fucking clingy he got during his recovery. He played up those tiny wounds like he was dying, and hot make-out sessions and random quickies were his only salvation.
“He actually came after me. Tried to save me from the Riders and Jinx,” Temperance murmurs, her tone shifting. “I only found out later. He didn’t deserve that spanking then, but I guess he got his punishment in advance.” She huffs. “I made such a good speech that day about protecting the women they love and all that shit. Spent hours thinking of it, perfecting it. And the asshole just ignored it.”
“Is that hypocrisy I hear?”
The voice cuts through the air, smooth as sin. It stops all three of us cold.
Luca takes the seat right across from me, leans back, and smiles a predator’s smile. He doesn’t belong here. Not with his perfect hair, clean-shaven jaw, and crisp white shirt. Even his cut looks expensive as shit. Isn’t he supposed to be part of this club now? Shouldn’t he look… rougher? Grow a messy beard, maybe?
I’ve never spoken to the man, but Temperance warned me about him. And now I see why.
His vibes are nothing but death.
“Go away, Satan,” Temperance glares, slamming her cards on the table.
Ria narrows her eyes, suspicion painted all over her face.
Luca’s smile doesn’t falter. He turns his head slowly toward Temperance and pins her with a cold, calculating stare.
“I don’t like the man,” he says, “but he was in search of revenge. Rightfully so. Out of all people, I thought you’d understand that best, Temperance.” His smile stretches. “Or is revenge only acceptable when it’s yours?”
“Leave this table,” Ria growls, her tone dangerous, eyes still narrowed on him.
Luca — still smiling — turns to her.
“How’s Tank doing?” he asks casually. “Still not feeling well?”
“Ghost’s revenge wasn’t that rightful,” I grit out, cutting in before Ria can answer — and also making a mental note to ask her about Tank later. “Why are you here, Romano? Trying to stir shit?”
He looks back at me, and a chill coils down my spine. That smile tries to look friendly, but his eyes tell a different story.
“I’m not trying to stir anything,” he says, voice smooth as velvet, soaked in honey. “I’m only here to help you. You destroyed him, and he destroyed you. That should have been enough, shouldn’t it?”
