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“Jesus, Crimson. Learn to take a joke,” Tony drawled. “And shut up, my man’s in.”
“Your man isn’t ‘in,’” Simi disagreed as she too stood and started gathering all of her children with her husband. “He’s doing an interview.”
With Tony’s husband being on the local professional football team, every Sunday they all gathered to watch it. Usually, it was at Slone’s house, but I had a distinct feeling that they were at my place today in order to talk about me, and hopefully catch us on the off chance that we’d decided to come home.
“I’m gonna take my fist and shove it straight up your…” she trailed off, but only because Winston curled the palm of his hand over her face and covered her mouth.
“That’s right. You show her who’s boss, Winston,” I teased.
There was a sharp punch to my shoulder, and I laughed while saying, “Oww!”
Ande’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not usually this much of a shit.”
“I’m not a shit at all to you,” I teased, throwing my arm around her shoulders and pulling her into my side. “But these are my sisters. They give as good as they take. And also, they’re unwelcome.”
My sisters booed.
Ande sighed. “That’s true. I’ve heard some of the worst things ever from my brothers. I think they’re a natural deterrent to bullying, to be honest. Someone can’t be bullied if they don’t get offended by anything anymore.”
“What’s the plan, ladies and gentlemen?” Hannibal asked. “I don’t want to walk out this door unless we have somewhere solid to go.”
Hades took a running jump, then landed onto Hannibal’s back.
Hannibal caught her as if he was fully expecting her to make that move.
He didn’t even stumble.
Looking over at the woman at my side, one who looked like she finally had a little bit of light in her eyes, I wondered if we’d ever get to that point.
It was a startling realization to think, I fervently hope so.
CHAPTER 15
When she’s had a rough day, give her a rough night.
-Ande to Keene
ANDE
I woke up with a slight hangover.
Blinking open one eye, I found my gaze settled on a very solid chest.
And what looked to be a very fresh wound.
Being as knowledgeable as I was on wounds, and serious ones at that, I knew that the wound on his chest was from a bullet.
It wasn’t bad.
Honestly, it looked like it just went in the bottom of his left lower chest, right where women had that back fat from their bras being a little too tight. It was so close to the edge of his chest that it would’ve been just a graze had it been only a quarter of an inch to the side.
But it was still a gunshot wound.
With the way he was laying, his arm up and thrown up over his eyes, it gave me the perfect view of his entire chest, stomach, and even those hip dips.
But it also had me up close and personal with a wound that was probably less than a couple of weeks old.
Who are you, Keene Day?
