Page 156 of Kings Fear No One
Her ringed-out, slit-like eyes double in size when it does. She retches like a cat attempting to cough up a hairball and wheezes out, “This isn’t…? You didn’t…? You fed me peanut butter?!”
“Is it peanut butter?”
“Yes,” she croaks. “Peanut butter… peanuts… I’m deathly allergic!”
“Are you? Whoops.” I fold my arms behind my back and shrug my shoulders innocently, still smiling. “I could’ve sworn those were almond butter. Oh well, I better get going.”
“No… come… come back! PUH… PUH-LEASE!”
She’s gagging by the time I reach the bottom stair. Her face has reddened and her eyes bulge in their sockets, her mouth wide and agape. She huffs out air as if trying to regain her breath, but it’s too late. Her lungs are closing up.
For the briefest moment, I almost feel terrible for her. I almost rush over to help and call 911.
Then I remember every foul, evil thing she’s ever done to me—and Logan—and my smile returns.
“God doesn’t like ugly, Mandy,” I say. “It’s a shame you’ve had to learn the hard way. Goodbye.”
The last noise I hear before slamming shut the basement door is her choking gasps. Dusting my hands off with an air of satisfaction, I return to the barroom floor.
The others notice my return at once.
“There she is!” Korine exclaims.
“Took you long enough,” says Sydney. “You sure you and Logan didn’t go out back for a quickie?”
I laugh. “Nope. Just threw out the cookies like I said. Are we making this dress fitting or what?”
“Oh, Sydney,” Korine says with a surprised gasp. “You look amazing!”
“You think? It’s not too much?”
I shake my head and step forward to fuss with the hem of her airy chiffon gown. “Not at all. You make for a beautiful bride.”
“Are you two trying to make me cry?” Sydney gently fans at her eyes to stave off the emotion building up. “How the hell am I going to make it down the aisle without tearing up?”
Korine closes in on her left to fuss at her in the same way I am. Whereas I’m straightening the skirt portion of her summery wedding dress, Korine’s brushing Sydney’s side bang out of the way to make her hair look even more perfect.
We eventually move out of the way so she can get a look at herself in the boutique mirror.
“Damn it!” she murmurs, more emotion rising up. She promptly turns away, releasing a laugh that’s watery but happy. “I am crying. This is all your fault. Don’t tell Mace. He’ll tease the fuck out of me.”
“In the vault,” Korine promises.
“Change of subject,” Sydney says. “Let’s talk about how both of you are slaying in your dresses.”
“You have a point,” I say, popping a hand to my hip to pose in the mirror. “The three of us are elevens out of ten. Our guys don’t know how lucky they are.”
My words are spoken in jest, but the other two give vigorous nods and laughs anyway.
It’s true though—we all look wonderful. Sydney in her delicate wedding dress made of lace and chiffon that’s perfect for a breezy wedding out in the meadows in a Texas summer. Korine and I wear the sage green gowns that have been picked out for us. The silhouette is decidedly feminine and flattering, showing off our shoulders, cinched waists, and complementing our different complexions.
I’m drifting off in excited thoughts about what Logan will think when he sees me in it when my phone rings from inside my purse.
“I’ll be a few minutes.”
Sydney and Korine carry on fussing with each other’s dresses as I step outside and answer the call. I’m not sure what to expect as I say, “Hello, Mama.”
Knowing Mama, it could be anything.
