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“What an introduction this is,” Hemmi snickers. “Welcome to the carnival that is my life. Once you’ve bought your ticket to enter the funhouse, there’s no escaping.”
“Is she alright?” Charlee asks, pointing at Mera. “She’s changing colors. Is that normal?”
“I’m not sure,” I confess. “I’ve never seen her react like this.” I’m getting more concerned the longer this charade continues. She may stop breathing altogether if they don’t give her the chance to stop panting.
It’s like one big comedy skit that I’ve heard the girls whispering about in the hallways. Their entertaining show never slows, and she’s not given a chance to recover before something else laughable happens.
I have so many questions about things I’ve seen since stepping down here.
One… how do they grow grass down here without sunlight?
Two… why does Bullet think Texas is a fire hydrant?
Three… what did Texas mean by a live show?
Four… are all of them crazy? Do they need psychiatric help?
The list is ever-growing and I don’t have a pad of paper nor a pen to write them all down so I can ask later.
Julius
Standing in the background,my vision stays solely focused on Shayne. Her emotions are all over the map. She goes from concerned to curious to amused, and back to concerned. The frown between her brows makes me want to walk over to her and run the tip of my finger down it to soothe her worries away.
It didn’t take me long to figure out that I wasn’t pissed. I was more embarrassed and disappointed that she’d think so little of me and my family. Why I have the innate need to impress her is beyond my comprehension. I’ve never given a single goddamn before about how others perceive me… us.
Usually, I’m of the mindset that they can like me, or they can fuck right the hell off. No one gets away with putting my boys and girls down without a fist being fed down their throats. But the thought of laying a finger on her makes me violently ill.
In my world, a woman is just as capable as a man. I don’t see gender when I’m doling out punishment. Any threat is a threat regardless of their station or designation.
Leo and Marco are my head enforcers. They more often than not are the ones with blood under their fingernails, but there are times I become bloodthirsty and need to enact my own brand of revenge.
“Y’all are a bunch of jackasses. Enough is enough!” I holler, letting my temper fly.
This is not the first impression I wanted these ladies to have of us. They need to see us as their protectors—the men who are going to bring Shayne’s brothers to their knees and end the imminent danger they pose to my family.
“Ah, Pops, we were just having some fun and letting off a little steam,” Kruger defends.
“We didn’t mean nothing by it,” Texas excuses.
“They’re boys living inside of men’s bodies. Don’t pay any attention to them,” Star states, walking up to Shayne and Mera, presenting herself to them.
The women stop mutilating their men and converge on them, carting them away so I can deal with these overgrown Neanderthals.
“Seriously, guys. They’ve been raised in a convent and this is how you want to conduct yourselves?” I say, scolding them. “How are they ever going to learn to trust us if you imbeciles represent yourselves as overgrown apes?”
“I don’t have enough body hair to be seen as an ape, Pop,” Texas alleges, being a smartass as per his usual response when he’s done something that irritates his brothers or me. “Don’t be upset. I promise they’ll love us. Everyone does.”
“Not everyone,” I murmur.
“Okay, then they’ll grow to love us,” Texas counters.
“You’re a fungus, Texas,” Luca chides, shaking his head but clearly amused by the man. Luca finds him charming. I find him infuriating. If I had to spend longer than a day with him, I’d throttle him and that’d upset Jessa and Malice, and those two I adore. I’d never do anything to hurt either one of them, so I bite my tongue and look the other way as much as I possibly can. But there are times that he needs a reminder of how he should be acting, and today is one of those times.
“Keeps growing but never goes away without antibiotics,” Malice states, standing in the background shaking his head.
“Pops,” Gunner calls out my name, rushing over to our group.
“What’s up, son?” I ask, swiveling around on my feet to face him.
