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“Mmhmm,” I say with pride. “Don’t worry. Only carry it when I don’t trust meeting someone or going somewhere. She’s too beautiful to be carrying around.” The way I’m glorifying a weapon is maddening to acknowledge.So, I move right along.“And Zander! No guns at the table.”
“Since when?”
“I don’t know. Since Dom killed that guard with one?” I decide to use it as an excuse.
“Aww. Does my Sweet Dynamite have PTSD?! We can go to therapy together.”
“Fuck you,” I grunt and focus on my pudding.
“You can’t be swearing at your Ruthless King like that, Dolcezza,” Zander whines, but there’s no threat in his voice.None at all.“Could lead to some serious consequences.”
“Punish me,” I urge and enjoy taking a scoop of my pudding.And moan at the pure, sweet delight melting in my mouth.“Fuck me. This dessert is everything!” I can’t even focus on whatever they say because the dessert has taken my full attention. Matching it with the green smoothie makes me groan and take a moment to admire the blessings this morning offered me.
“How can green smoothie and bunny pudding go so well together?” I ask in awe.
“Jesus Christ, woman. Are you actually going to cry?”
I don’t pay Domino mind because this moment is everything. I may struggle to eat food on a timely and regular basis, but from an orphan girl, I cherish the privilege of having food on the table.
“Guess I’m on dessert duty from now on,” Zander concludes. “Ares, can you whip up smoothies like today?”
“Sure.” Ares doesn’t sound like he minds. “If we get to hear Sweet Canary make those noises, I’ll do it every day of the week.”
“Wait. YOU made the smoothie?” I point at Ares, watching him casually shrug as if it’s no big deal.
“Zander is always making your food and shit. Warren even packs you lunch far too often. Figured I should start trying to contribute. Especially when Kian mentioned you should be eating more stuff with protein,” Ares admits, looking deep in thought. “Said something about you losing muscle and weight since you’ve come here.”
“Aww, fuck,” I curse, not having paid attention to my own physique as of late. “He’s probably right. I normally do weight lifting three to four times a week and do an array of cardio workouts during the week.”
“You stopped when you got here?” Zander asks for confirmation.
“Not intentionally…” I admit and look between the two of them. “You guys never really gave me permission to work out. Can’t do that now, especially if I’m not supposed to be outside these walls alone.”
I finally look at Domino, who can’t hide his boiling hatred for me. It’s different from his usual look, as though he’s plotting my demise in some unique way.
Am I surprised? No. I am curious, though.
“Plotting my murder, Leighton Jr.?” I offer and watch his whole face go tomato red.
“Shots fired,” Zander warns and points his new shiny gun in Domino’s direction. “I can make it literally if you don’t tame your tantrum ass this morning.”
“Zander,” Ares groans. “Did you take your meds this morning?”
Huh?
I’m looking at him long and hard before I frown and look back at Ares.
“He hasn’t switched.”
For a moment, all three of them are looking my way.
“Huh?” Zander ends up stating.
“What?” I counter.
“Say what you said again,” Zander prompts.
“You haven’t switched,” I voice the obvious. “Why would Ares ask if you took your medication when you’re not showing signs of being off in the slightest?” I question earnestly. “Imean… yeah, you’re pointing a gun at Domino, but it’s clear you have no intention of shooting him.”
