“Oh shit!” Jess laughs. “That was a solid threat. Abby! You threatened him. I’m so proud of you!”
The stuck-up chick wants to step up just like her brother. I guess bad attitudes run in the family.
“Sorry, ladies, I’m under orders. I’m where Jess is, so how about you buy the fuckin’ flowers so we can move on with our lives? I have work to do.”
“Why are you being so grumpy?” Jess grumbles. “Have fun. It’s flower day!”
“Why’d you pick a nun for a florist? If I’m gonna be dragged around a flower shop, the least you could do is find a chick that doesn’t burn my retinas with her fuckin’ blouse and goodie-goodie ‘don’t swear around me’behavior.” I meet Abby’s eyes. “Are you twelve? Do the big swears offend you?”
“Are you a caveman whose vocabulary only consists of five words?” she shoots back. “I’m not here to look good for you, Mr. Serrano. It is not my job to impress you.”
“Well, obviously! Even Jessie looks good enough to eat, but you…” I wave my hand along her body like a total douche. “You look like you missed church this morning.”
“What the hell do you mean ‘even Jessie’?” Jess snaps. “I look good every day, jerk!”
“And Miss Priss probably looks good only in the shower. Are you an amorphous blob when naked, too? Do you even have tits?” When her eyes widen like saucers, I take satisfaction in my victory. “I have six words in my vocabulary. Amorphous is kinda big too, huh? Bigger than your tits, anyway.”
“Spencer!”
“Get out of my store!” Priss storms forward and tries to turn me the way she did with her brother. Her eyes aren’t glittering with regular anger anymore, but feral rage that says I hit my mark. “Get out of my store! How dare you speak about me that way? How dare you talk about my… my…”
“Tits?” I volunteer.
“My body!”
“I wish I knew what kind of body you had, but all I see is Gumby with red hair. Do you ever go into the sun? Do you still live in Ireland, but commute here for work?”
“Do you have any manners at all?” she snaps. “Who the heck are you to speak to me this way? We don’t know each other! You havenoclue about my life.”
“Maybe not, but hey, my name is Spencer Serrano, and I’m the only guy that’ll tell you the damn truth. You look like a fuckin’ nun, but not the hot kind where I might be tempted to lift your dress. You look like you’re twelve, so I feel like I’m gonna be arrested for looking at your ass. You sayheckanddangtoo fuckin’ much, so I feel like I’m talking to a toddler. You have eyebrows, but they’re so light, I can’t even tell they’re there. And your eyes are freakish!”
“My eyes?” She stops pushing and jerks back to cup her cheeks. “You’re picking on my eyes too?”
“Spencer!”
“Is that a birth defect, Abigail? One blue, one green. Did your dad jack off twice and create twins, then you ate the other while in the womb?”
She drags a breath in on a gasp. “That’s not how twins are made you… you…”
“What?” I duck my head lower. “Swear, Abigail. Call me a prick.”
“I will not! You’re stupid! And that’s a really mean thing to say, but youmademe say it. Areyoua birth defect? Did you fall into a barrel of tattoo artists and come out looking like a bunch of kindergarteners used you for a dot to dot canvas? You have drawings behind your ears, for heaven’s sake. Your ears! Are you not afraid of getting that stuff into your brain? You have drawings on your throat and fingers. I mean, how stupid are you? Tattoos are like cussing, a sign of inferior education and perhaps too much time spent in prison. Did you kill someone and get sent away?”
I lean in closer, and inhale her flowery scent just to piss her off. Unfortunately, it pisses me off more that my lungs enjoy her air. “I’ve killed loads of people, Priss. But I was never sent away.”
Her cheeks drain from a fiery red to pale white while she works to decide if I’m speaking in literals.
I am. I’ve killed plenty of men, and I’ve helped my friends kill plenty more. Some were ordered, some were sanctioned by the law. Some were incidental, and some were accident. I’m not sorry for a single one of them, but Priss would still look at me the way she is now if I admitted to hitting a bird with my car. Admitting to ending a human’s life is a whole other level of crazy she has no clue how to process.
I poke her delicate shoulder and pretend it has nothing to do with the fact I want to touch her. “I choose to look like this, just like you choose to look like a fuckin’ virgin. Has a man even touched you before?”
“You are despicable!” She shoves me right back. “You’re horrible, and I’m sorry I met you.”
“Alrighty.” Jess pushes between us so her expanded belly touches my hip. “Looks like we’re going to find a new florist. Thanks a lot, Spencer. This is why we can’t have nice things.” She turns to Abby. “I’m so sorry for him. He’s always this horrible, but I hoped he’d lock it up in front of polite company.” Then she turns to me with firm lips and a low growl. “I’m telling Kane that you need a damn leash.”
Now I feel bad for losing the virginal priestess business.
I turn away from Abby’s glittering eyes with a shake of my head. I rarely feel bad for my actions, and I’m not entirely sorry now. But Jess’ excitement for today, and the rage I saw in Abby’s eyes coalesce and make me feel…something.
Guilt is such a foreign feeling to me.
“You don’t need a new florist. But you do need to wrap this shit up. Pick a flower, make your order, pay the nun, and let’s get out of here. I have places to be.”