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As she yawns and stretches her white tank top rides up, revealing smeared lipstick just below her bellybutton. Yep, they definitely had fun last night.
Doing as she says, I enter the crowded room and take a seat on her sofa. It takes me a hot second for my brain to put together what they’re doing. As soon as I do, I burst out laughing.
“Oh my God,” I wheeze with tears streaming down my cheeks. “This is fucking epic.”
Rose turns toward me with a savage smile on her beautiful face. “I can’t wait to see their faces tomorrow.”
Sasha cackles like the fucking wicked witch that she is. “Don’t forget the cotton lumps,” she scolds one of the other girls. “We have to make it real or it’s no fun.”
They all decline my offer to help, saying that all they need from me is my silence. That’s an easy promise since I want to see the outcome tomorrow morning myself.
As soon as they’re done, Alana sends everyone downstairs to check if the coast is clear.
“And what if it is?” one of the girls asks.
Shrugging, Alana answers, “Hang around and make sure it stays that way. I’ll be down with the bowl later.”
I watch as they all file out of the room, and as soon as it’s only me and Alana, I finally feel like I can breathe again.
“What’s on your mind?” she asks, proving just how perceptive she is.
I bite my nail nervously, afraid to ask what I came here for. Rolling my shoulders back, I meet her probing gaze. “I need your help.”
She cocks her head to the side and swirls her hand in the air in a ‘go on’ motion.
“I want to get Grayson back for the shit he’s done.” I rush the words out before I lose my courage.
Even though he’s on her shit list doesn’t guarantee her help. Trusting her could prove a big mistake, and even though my gut says she’s trustworthy, I still have doubts.
Wordlessly, she stands up and retrieves two glasses from a small cupboard. Then she fills them to the brim with some of the leftover red wine. As she hands me the glass, she locks eyes with me, and I get the feeling she knows exactly what it means if I take it.
Since the night at Dirty Diamonds, I’ve gone out of my way not to touch alcohol. The only exception was the night I fought Rose, so taking this means I trust Alana.
With a gulp, I accept the glass.
“Good girl,” Alana laughs. “Now that we’ve established that you can drink alcohol around me, I’m all ears. Do you have a plan?”
I quickly shake my head. “No plan,” I say. “But I do have a list.”
“A list?”
“Yep,” I confirm.
Needing a second before I tell her, I take another swig of the wine. It’s not half bad.
“Bastard Can Fuck Drenched Pussy Loudly.”
I giggle at her dumbfounded expression.
“Yeah, we know,” she says unimpressed. “You’re not exactly a quiet lay, Zoe.”
I appreciate she doesn’t mention she knows because Grayson’s undoubtedly fucked at least half the Cruz Cunts. Still, my cheeks burn with… not exactly embarrassment, but I don’t know what else to call it.
“Oh my God!” I exclaim.
Sometimes I really fucking act my hair color. I saw and heard them all at the Fourth of July BBQ, which obviously means there’s a good chance they at the very least heard me. Not that I can forget when he made me come in the fucking supply closet, and last night I let him eat me out on one of the tables. Damn, that’s some list.
“Don’t be ashamed,” Alana says like it’s nothing. “Sasha once farted when Slasher ate her out, and you don’t see her turning red.”
