“Thanks.” She places it on the desk, taking my hands. “Stop testing me, Leith. I’ve passed with flying colors. I am ready.”
“Aye, ye’re on the ball.” I gulp the black tea. “Drink yer tea, hen. It’ll keep ye up.”
Holding her mug to her lips, Chevelle whimpers. “Gawd, I could use a bath right now. Babe, what will we do about our home?”
With a groan, Chevelle sips the tea. My gaze bounces over her. I tell myself not to stare as she drinks. I wait a few beats before speaking. “Ye’re just now asking?”
“Every time I had a moment to contemplate it, there was another metaphoricalfire.”
“Dinna concern yerself, hen.” I place my index finger at the bottom of her mug, helping her tip back the rest of it. My wife seems ready to protest, so I add, “Not tonight. Focus on Fausto. Our biggest advantage right now is watching Disney+. When this is all over, I’ll have made everything right.”
“Awe!” Chevelle loops her arms around me. They become heavier by the second. The drug from her tea kicks into high gear. “You’re the best, Leith.”
“Yup, I’m the best,” I repeat her words. Smiling, I dinna feel the slightest pang of guilt while my drunken wife hugs me.
Chevelle prattles on in a drugged, lethargic tone. “You love to handle everything. I’m so glad you’re my alpha. Remember when I had an attitude, while reading about the dom?”
“Mhmmm.” I’m ignoring her while focusing on the screen. In a few minutes, I’ll have compromised the security system at Fausto’s condo.
Chevelle slurs, “This is calming tea. I should’ve made us a few shots. Fireballs. Our home’s on fire. I think you should take a few shots from between my legs. I’m ready for sex now.”
“Nae, hen.” I stop her shabby attempt to pull at my shirt. I’m switching the screens on my laptop when Fausto pops up. He’s on alivesocial media feed at a cigar lounge.
Chevelle’s clinging to me. The sound of her purr stiffens my cock. I bite her lip, returning to my task.
“Leith, I love taking body shots off your abs. You have the most beautyyy-ful abs. Hayyy, I know that lady.”
When I think Chevelle is about to go under, she plasters an index finger against the computer screen. Fausto’s showing off his bitch as she lifts a hand, displaying what looks like a cubic zirconia to me.
Again, Chevelle babbles, “I know her.”
“What doye mean, hen?” I grab my wife, rattle her shoulders. Chevelle’s entire weight leans into me, yet she’s so tiny in my arms.
I read over the image description: Drinks with fiancée.
I click into the linked profile of a forty-something blond, whose name I can’t recollect my wife ever mentioning. What sort of relationship does Chevelle have with the woman?
Say they’re friends—good friends—will Chevelle feel guilt for murdering the woman’s fiancé?
The door bursts open, in walks mybrathairs, Brody and Camdyn. The younger one is in a black leather jacket and gloves—thefeckin’works. The oldest looks like he hasn’t gotten the memo in sweats and house shoes.
“Thefeckareye two doing?” I ask.
Camdyn rubs his hands together. “Mom said she’s proud of the three of us. I haven’t been home this many days straight in half a year. We’re bonding. Tonight, we’re off to bond again.”
Brody cracks his neck. “And I’ve not killed someone in a week, Leith. So, let’sbond.”
“From the looks of it, he hasn’t fucked the friend either.” Cam rolls his eyes while Brody roars how Justice isnone of his business.
“Speaking of friends . . .” I hold a slumbering Chevelle to my chest, speculating her relationship with Fausto’s bitch. “Once Chevelle awakens, I’ve gotta ask her about this woman.”
Brody snaps. “Och, allow me. I’ll go grab a bucket of ice water.”
“Bro, that’s petty as fuck. Oh, but that’s payback for the cockblock?” Camdyn’s eyebrow lifts. “I’ll admit, you’ve been trying to apologize to Chevelle for ages. Now, she’ll feel your ice-cold wrath?”
Brody’s chest inflates. “Feckye.”
Unflinching, ourbrathairretorts, “No, thankyou. I could have a different bitchfuckingme every night. Far as I recall,you could too, Brody. Now, Chevelle blocked all that pussy, eh?”