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I nod slowly because that’s nothing less than what I expected. “Fair enough.” Looking around, I catch Munroe moving closer to Sasha, who’s sitting with her back to him.
Fuck, my stomach still churns when I think about the way he slapped Alana, literally knocking her off her feet. Fucker.
“Hey,” I shout, gaining Sasha’s attention.
She turns around, eyes widening when she realizes Munroe was sneaking up on her. “Get the hell away from me,” she screeches in outrage.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he complains. “How long is this shit going to continue? I want to fuck.”
Sasha shrugs, attempting to look unbothered. “Then I guess you should have thought about that before slapping Alana.”
“She broke the fucking rules and needed to be punished,” he argues angrily. “You’re here for one reason, and one reason only. You’ve made your point, but you can’t keep your legs closed forever.”
“The hell we can’t,” Rose seethes.
“Munroe,” I call out. When he turns his head and glares at me, I stab a finger into the rule book in front of me. “The Cruz Cunts are here voluntarily, and they’re doing the jobs outlined in here. Fucking you isn’t their job, it was an arrangement. One they’re no longer happy about.”
“This is all your fault,” he growls, making me smile sweetly.
I’m not vain enough to think he’s right, the Cunts can think for themselves. All I did was help find the ground to stand on.
“If you have a problem with it, take it up with Rocco.” My tone is calmer than I feel. I hate admitting it, but he really freaks me out.
My dislike for what he did isn’t because he slapped a woman because this isn’t a battle of the genders. But the fact that he thinks he can slap someone and then demand sexthatdoesn’t sit right with me. Not one bit.
Even Grayson has been wise enough to stay out of my way as much as possible. The first three days after Alana’s punishments, I practically moved out of his room and stayed with them, sharing Alana’s bed. Getting away from him was the perk, not the reason. The reason was that I wanted to be there for the Cunts, who were all shaken up by the way the Kings treated them.
Though they all knew about the rules, I think it was the casual way the Kings voted on their punishment that got to them the most. Especially Tio’s vote for branding Alana. Not just once, not just twice. But a mark from each Cunt or King. Motherfuckers.
Not to mention the shock of Munroe hitting her so hard she fell to the floor. But I think what’s startled everyone the most, though no one wants to say it out loud, was that Slasher didn’t even hesitate to stand when Rocco called his name. The man Alana is exclusive with fucking stood, ready to obey his Prez.
We all know the Kings claim a lack of choice, I’ve heard that enough from Grayson. But it’s a lie. There’s always a choice. So what it really boils down to is that theychoseto obey some sick and sadistic rules, rather than standing up for what’s right.
Spineless fuckers.
“Take what up with me?” Rocco asks as he joins us, obviously catching what I said to Munroe.
“Tell them to get back to business,” Munroe demands.
I roll my eyes. “They never stopped doing business,” I interject. “They’re still doing their shifts at Dirty Diamonds, and their cam business as well. Fucking you and serving you isn’t business, itwasa perk.”
When Tio opens his mouth to argue, Rocco says, “She’s right. It’s in the bylaws, so it stands.”
“Hell yeah it does,” Rose quips, fist pumping the air.
Tio slams his fist into the wall, letting out an angry roar. “How the fuck is this okay? They’re not cooking or cleaning. Instead, they’ve hired a fucking cleaner for their rooms. Rooms, we’re letting them live in rent free.”
Beth clears her throat and holds up her phone to show him something on the screen. “Not rent free, Tio. We paid the full rent yesterday.”
“What?”
Rose nods. “Yep. Paid rent for all you dirty fuckers as well. We’re not asking for a handout or a free lunch.”
Rocco rakes his hand through his hair and sighs deeply. I don’t miss the glare he sends in my direction. Shit, even though I know I haven’t done anything wrong, I can’t help but squirm. He’s fucking terrifying.
“Speaking of food,” Sasha interjects. “Should we order pizza or burgers tonight, Cunts?”
Slasher smiles widely. “We’re having pizza instead of fucking disgusting stew?”
