Page 151 of Devil’s Disciples

“You’re covered in orange dust,” I said with a laugh.

She stared to the ceiling. “I ate the whole bag. I was too sad to get a napkin.”

“I’m sure he’s still going to be interested in you when the swelling goes down,” I said reassuringly. “You’ll probably be out with him tomorrow. This weekend for sure.”

She titled her head to the side and gave me a glassy-eyed look. “It’s broken.”

“What’s broken?”

“His jaw.”

“Tito’s?” I gasped. “It’s broken?”

She shifted her focus to the ceiling. “In two places.”

“Oh. Wow. Don’t they have to wire it shut or something?”

“They already did. They’re checking it in two weeks, but it sounds like it’ll be six before they unwire it. He’s on a liquid diet. And, he’s got to carry wire cutters in his pocket just in case he needs to vomit.”

I wrinkled my nose at the thought. “Why would he need to vomit?”

“If he’s as sad as I am, he’ll probably vomit tonight. I’m sure I will sooner or later. I’m devastated. I’m sure he is, too.”

“That really sucks. Cash must have hit him pretty hard.”

She tilted her head to the side. Her eyes caught up with her a few seconds later. “You were standing there. You saw it,” she said, her tone thick with sarcasm. “He knocked him all the way across the driveway.”

“Yeah, he kind of did.”

“Have you heard from Dolla Bill?” she asked.

“Not since they left.”

She obviously had Tito’s phone number, or she couldn’t have found out everything she knew about his condition. I, on the other hand, didn’t have Cash’s number. I found it odd that we hadn’t exchanged numbers, but I didn’t want to overstep boundaries and ask him to do something that made him uncomfortable, either.

She pinched the hem of her dress between her thumb and forefinger and lifted it off her thighs. “I don’t have on any panties.”

I coughed out a laugh. “That’s kind of random.”

She wafted the hem up and down. “I was going to wear this tonight.”

“You were going to wear that? On the motorcycle?”

“If I got my way, we would have never left the house. I was going to lure him inside with the cleavage. We were going to fuck until he was hungry, and then I was going to feed him a pussy sandwich.”

I scrunched my nose. “A pussy sandwich?”

She glared back at me. “You know what I mean.”

“Sounds like you had it all planned out.”

She forced a sigh. “I did until Dolla Bill fucked it up.”

I was reluctant to try having a meaningful conversation with someone who was inebriated, but the drunken woman sitting across from me that was covered in Cheeto dust was my only option.

“Why do you think Cash hit him, anyway?” I asked.

She gave me a crazy-eyed look. “Because he was pissed.”