Page 98 of Redeeming 6

“The Gards pulled him over for tax and insurance,” Gibsie declared, clearly intoxicated as he staggered and swayed on his feet.

“So?” Johnny hissed. “Hughie’s aboveboard.”

“He looked at me, Johnny! He shone his big fucking torch right in my eyes,” Gibsie slurred, wide-eyed. “I panicked and jumped out of the car. I’ve been running around town ever since. I tried to call you but you kept cutting me off.”

“You’re King Clit?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”

“What’s Hughie down as?”

“Ginger Pubes.”

“He’s blond.”

“His girlfriend isn’t.”

“Jesus Christ, Gibs.”

“What do you want me to do with him?” Joey asked, sounding bored, while I was thoroughly amused by their antics.

“I should probably bring him back to my place,” Johnny muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Or to a secured hospital.”

“See what bullshit you got us into?” Joey told me under his breath before throwing the door open and climbing out to move his seat forward.

With none of the grace or consideration his friend had shown for the shocks of my car, Gibsie threw himself into the back seat, sprawling out on top of his friend’s lap.

“Fuck!”

“Shit, man, did I get your dick? I’ll get ice for your balls when we get home.”

“Get. Off. Me.”

“Christ, this is the tightest hole I’ve been inside for months.”

“I hope there’s no more of ye,” Joey muttered, climbing back into the driver’s seat and pulling off. “The car’s weighing down in the back.”

“Sorry,” Johnny replied, clearly embarrassed.

“It’s his fault, the fat bastard,” Gibsie declared and then turned his attention back to his buddy and asked, “Hey, is your dick okay, man? I’m really sorry about that. I hope I didn’t squash your balls.”

“Go fuck yourself, Gerard.”

“I was being sincere, Jonathan. For that, you can get your own ice tonight… Hold up! You traitor! You went to the chipper!”

“Yeah, I did, and it was fucking delicious, and I have no regrets.”

“What did you have?”

“A few cheeseburgers and a curry chips.”

“How did it taste?”

“Better than sex.”

Joey snorted and muttered, “Clearly, he doesn’t have a clue about sex, if he’s willing to trade pussy for a burger,” under his breath.

“Be nice,” I scolded, slapping his shoulder.

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