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Alana laughs scathingly. “No, sweet Slasher. We,” she gestures between the women, “are having pizza and paying for it ourselves. We got our first payment from the cam site yesterday, and it was enough to pay our own way for months.”
“But you’re still paying us the agreed share, right?” Munroe asks, narrowing his eyes.
Sasha shrugs. “We did.”
“We even added a tip for being such good boys,” Rose taunts, baring her teeth at Tio when he flips her off.
Christ, this is a detonation waiting to happen.
The Cunts are on a warpath, and yeah, I might have helped fuel the fire a bit. But if you ask me, the Kings deserve to be put in their place. What they did is beyond fucked up, and if we have to face the consequences of our choices, it’s only right the same goes for them.
Ignoring everyone else as their bickering intensifies, I turn back to Alana who writes something into the spreadsheet she’s working on. Leaning closer, I glance at the numbers in the column she has highlighted. Oh, my fucking devious girl alert. She’s keeping track of the money she and the other Cruz Cunts are making.
Noticing me looking, she smiles widely and points at her laptop screen. “Gotta make sure we document everything,” she says with a wink.
“What are you going to do with it?” I ask, suspiciously.
“I don’t plan on doing anything,” she grins. “But it would be a shame if we accidentally printed the sheet and showcased it here for the Kings to see, wouldn’t it?”
I can’t decide if their plan is brilliant or foolhardy. I get that they’re going out of their way to annoy the Kings within the fucking rules. But it feels like they’re playing with fire. What if Rocco decides enough is enough and kicks them out?
My thoughts are interrupted as Slayer comes into the room carrying three shopping bags. He drops them next to Alana.
“Is there anything else you need?” he asks, amused.
Lifting each bag, she inspects them carefully. I burst out laughing, watching as she pulls out what looks like thirty boxes of tampons and places them on the table.
“Nope,” she answers coldly, not even bothering to look at him. “That’s all.”
Since there’s still the threat of the Reapers, Alana, Rose, and Sasha demanded that one of the Kings go out to buy them all more tampons. To say that Rocco wasn’t pleased is an understatement. Then again, he usually only stays in our presence long enough to bark orders, then he retreats. We all know he’s missing Mama, which isn’t a surprise. What really shocked me is that he could do this to someone he loves. What the fuck kind of macho bullshit is that?
Despite protests, Slayer relented and went on the errand without batting an eye. Judging by the selection, he’s picked every brand and size available. Fuck, now I wish I’d seen the big guy squirm in the tampon aisle.
“What’s with the different colors?” Slasher asks, as he joins us.
Not looking up, Alana answers dryly, “They symbolize the flavors.”
Slasher furrows his brows like he isn’t quite sure what to believe. “Really?”
I nod empathically. “Of course. The green ones are watermelons. The yellow are lemon, and the orange ones, I’m sure you can guess.” Keeping a straight face is beyond hard, but I manage.
“It’s so we still taste fresh even when we’re on our period,” Alana adds without missing a beat. “We like to taste nice for each other.”
From across the room, Rose yells, “The lemon is my favorite. Especially for Alana. When I ate her out last night—”
The twins groan in unison and not so discreetly rearrange their junk.
“Don’t want to hear about that when we can’t join in,” Slayer gripes.
Slasher nods eagerly. “Period or no period, we’d still be down to at least watching.”
Rose hisses in outrage. “Absolutely not.”
“What the fuck ever,” Slasher grinds out through clenched teeth.
At the same time, Slayer murmurs something that sounds like a suggestion for the Cruz Cunts to change their name to Cruz Teases.
The twins don’t hang around for long. I can’t say I blame them, since the girls all make it clear they’re not welcome.
