The three men looked to where Knox was pointing, seeing Greer going through one of the Escalades. None of the men had to ask why Knox was looking so green at the gills when Greer got out of the vehicle, wearing his deputy uniform.
“I rehired the son of bitch.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Ginny told her sister, taking another slice for herself.
“Three pieces won’t hurt me.” Content, Trudy rubbed her belly with one hand while taking another bite of her pizza. “They were small.”
Sex Piston moved the pizza box toward her, taking a slice for herself and leaving the last piece for Fat Louise. Killyama came back from the kitchen, took the slice away, and put it back in the box.
Using the pizza cutter she found after Trudy’s vague directions about which drawer it was in, Killyama cut it into two, giving the smaller piece to Fat Louise.
Trudy moved the empty chair next to her to put her feet up. “Did you buy the pot stickers I wanted?”
“Yes.” Sex Piston nudged her chair to the side to put her feet next to Trudy’s. “They’re in the back seat. You want Killyama to go get them for you?”
Trudy cocked her head to the side, as if listening. “You hear any more gunshots?”
Ginny shook her head. “Not in the last five minutes.”
“Killy ….” Trudy looked pitifully at her friend.
“Bitch, you want those pot stickers, go get them yourself. Train is by the door. I’m not going near him until he calms his ass down.”
“You should have come in when the garage door opened,” Ginny chimed in, risking Killyama’s displeasure when Trudy pouted at the set down.
“If she wants them so bad, you go get them. T.A. isn’t the only one knocked up.”
Ginny jumped out her chair to hug Killyama. “Congratulations. I’m going to have a gigantic baby shower for both of you! I’ll go get the pot stickers.”
Killyama caught her by the end of her shirt. “Sit your ass down. Train!”
Ginny sat down and pretended she didn’t know anyone at the table, avoiding looking at Train as Killyama ordered him to get the pot stickers out of the car.
Train stood over his wife, giving her a glare that had Ginny wanting to sneak out of the room. Unfazed, Killyama gave him one of her own. The stand-off broke when they heard two shots from outside.
“It can wait,” Killyama backed down.
Train returned to the other room.
“Bitch, you took your life in your hands with that one,” Sex Piston said, stretching her neck to make sure Train was out of earshot.
“He’ll get over it.” Her friend didn’t sound as confident as she usually did.
Ginny didn’t blame her. She had received her own share of the shaming stare from Gavin.
“You could give him those new leather gloves you bought him for his birthday,” Ginny suggested.
“Won’t work. He’s got his mad on. Only thing going to get me out of the dog house is …”
Ginny’s interest piqued when Killy and the other women at the table shared the same knowledgeable wry smile.
“To be nice.”
Her mouth drooped in disappointment.
Trudy picked up on her thwarted expectations. “What did you think Killy was going to say?”
“I don’t know.” Ginny shrugged as she closed the empty box. “Something good.”
All the women stared at her in confusion.
Ginny propped her chin on her hand. “You know …” Ginny lowered her voice, embarrassed, not wanting any of the men in the house to hear. “Like a special way to give a”—Ginny’s voice dipped lower— “a blowjob, or something like that.”
“Is there a special way to give a blowjob?” Killyama looked at Sex Piston as if she was the authority on the matter.
Fat Louise and Trudy seemed equally interested.
Sex Piston leaned forward as if she was about to reveal her own personal secret. Instead, she snatched the bag of Skittles laying in the middle of the table.
“The real question is: If you’re so interested, why don’t you ask your men? They know what they like better than I would. Each man is different; some like to be played and teased, others just want you to open your mouth and say ahh. Those are the fuckers you want to watch out for.”
“Why are those we need to watch out for?” Ginny asked as she started gathering the candy wrappers from the candy they’d been gorging on from Trudy’s hidden stash.
“Those fuckers are the ones who just lay on their backs and stick their tongues out and say ride me.”
Peeling the Skittles bag open, Ginny dismally thought neither sounded bad to her. Gavin was as adventuresome in bed as Mr. Rogers.
Raising her head, Ginny found herself under the scrutiny of the women at the table.
“What?” Had she missed something?
“Bitch, did you just compare Reaper to Mr. Rogers?” Sex Piston looked at the other women to make sure she wasn’t the only one who heard the comparison.