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“The deeper you dig, the more painful your beating’s gonna be, brother,” Sparky says with a solemn nod.
I shift my gaze to Rock, who has one hand to his temple, head bowed. Then I notice his shoulders shaking. “All right, enough.” He barely conceals his laughter. “I think Hope’s planning to go as Sandy—”
I burst out laughing. “From Grease? That’s…perfect. Truly. Wait, good girl Sandy or bad girl Sandy? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Perfect either way.”
Rock glares at me.
“I mean,” Z draws the words out slowly, sits back and rubs a sarcastic hand over his hairless chin. “You’re already halfway to a Danny Zuko costume with the way you dress, Rock.”
“Yeah, but you’re the one sporting the late-seventies John Travolta hair,” Rooster points out. “Prez,” he adds in a semi-respectful tone.
Z runs his hands over his head. “I do not.”
“This is fun and whatnot,” Grinder says in his least amused grumble. “Everyone’s endless knowledge of useless movie trivia is impressive, but can we move things along?”
“Food,” Murphy says to Ravage. “You got that all sorted?”
“Of course you’re worried about the menu,” Ravage mutters.
“Just for that, I’m not gonna try to stop Teller when he kicks your ass after church,” Murphy says, sitting back with a smirk.
“As if you would’ve tried hard,” Ravage says.
Everyone actually laughs at that.
“Facts,” Murphy mutters.
“Food?” Rock prompts, trying to redirect the conversation.
“A suggestion.” I lift one finger in the air to get everyone’s attention. “You guys don’t need to be hyped up on sugar. Maybe—”
“Pleeeeasedon’t give Brother Buzzkill another reason to lecture us on the evils of processed sugar,” Sparky moans.
“Why you gotta suck the joy out of everything, Wrath?” Stash asks.
I flick my gaze to the ceiling. These assholes never want to benefit from my wisdom. That’s fine. I may be older than the stoner twins but I could still run circles around Sparky while dragging Stash behind me like a trophy buck I shot on opening day of deer season.
“Swan helped us hire someone,” Rav says. “To cater.”
“Jesus, doesn’t that poor girl have enough to do?” Dex asks.
“That’s why she helped me find someone tohire,” Stash says in his best “duh” tone.
“Sounds like we’re all good, then.” Rock slaps his palm against the table.
“I don’t know, Prez.” I cast a serious look Rock’s way. “This could either be a great time or one hell of a clusterfuck.”
CHAPTERTWO
Shelby
One week until Halloween…
“Why is there a skeleton riding a flamingo like he’s a rodeo champion in my front yard?” I pop my hands on my hips and stare Jiggy down, waiting for my answer. This can only be his doing.
Of course, Jigsaw isn’t fussed by my interrogation. Nope. Not one bit. He grins at me from my front porch. “What’s wrong, songbird? I thought it was an adorable representation of both of your personalities.” He rubs his hands in the air like he’s molding Lord knows what out of clay.
Behind me, Logan groans and curls his arm around my shoulders.
