Page 29 of No Saint
“Just be thankful he doesn’t haveyournumber.”
“Let me guess—” I took inventory of the groceries. Bacon, eggs, bread—“We have to cook breakfast?” Of course, what better way to humiliate women than putting us in the one place crusty old men thought we belonged?
“Yep.” She pulled out a carton of milk. “Can you make the bacon?”
I resented cooking like their damn mother, but I wasn’t going to leave her to this shit on her own.
I put a load of bacon on the grill pan, then made my coffee while Cassie danced around, singing lyrics to “Vigilante Shit.”Either Rogue had given her the best dick of her life last night, or she was up to something.
“So, I was thinking, we could go to Platinum after work tonight.” She cracked eggs into a pan. “I’ll just tell Rogue we’re doing inventory or something.”
“It’s okay. You don’t want to piss off Rogue by not being in his bed on time.”
She frowned. “You don’t need the money?”
“I do, but?—”
“Then we’re going.” She pulled a container of orange juice from the bag, followed by a huge bottle of MiraLAX. Okay,nowher earlier singing made sense. “Cassie…”
“Mmm…” She filled a glass pitcher with juice, then took the laxative, unscrewed the cap, and tipped it up. A steady stream of powder poured into the jug.
Part of me wanted to stop her, but Ihadtold her to be herself. Plus, the thought of Rogue shitting his life out felt like karma, the world righting itself and restoring order. Wolf, on the other hand… No. No Wolf anything.
He was the enemy. No matter if he’d given up his bed or had that heartbreaking look on his stupid face yesterday.
Cassie stopped pouring, then shrugged a shoulder before dumping in the rest. “That should do it.” That would do an elephant.
She grabbed a wooden spoon from the utensil caddy, smiling like she’d just won the lottery as she stirred the laxative-spiked juice. Those guys were about to have a bad, bad day.
Floorboards creaked in the living room. “Something smells good.” That was a male voice I didn’t recognize. I snatched the MiraLAX off the counter and quickly chucked it into the garbage can, covering it with used paper towels.
The lid slammed closed just as a tall, redheaded guy wearing an Omega Dicksolon T-shirt appeared in the kitchen doorway. I’d seen him hanging around Wolf, from a distance, of course.
Cassie flashed him a smile. The one he returned told me he knew her but definitely not well. Because if he did, he’d be scared of that smile.
“Oh, you’re in for a treat, Petey,” she said, scraping her semi-burned eggs onto a plate.
Petey’s attention drifted to me. “Jason Voorhees…” He moved to the knife block and picked it up, cradling it against his side like a football.
“Funny,” I said, as if this entire shit show wasn’t bad enough. “And so original.”
Ten minutes later, the food was ready and Wolf, Rogue, Bellamy, and Petey were sitting at the dining room table. Waiting to be served.
With a smirk, Cassie picked up two plates. “What is it you say, Jade? Karma is not in your action, it’s in your volition…”
“And you said affirmations were stupid.”
“Not that one. I’ve got all the volition.”
I grabbed the other two plates and followed her into the dining room.
The hum of the guy’s conversation fell silent. Cassie placed food in front of Rogue and Bellamy. When I put a plate in front of Wolf, he looked at it with a furrowed brow.
“I’m good.”
He had evidently learned his lesson back in high school when I’d attempted to cook him dinner. I figured chicken casserole wouldn’t be that hard. How wrong I was. It was disgusting, and I’d refused to eat it. Wolf had choked it down, lying through his teeth about how good it was. He’d looked green by the time he was done.
“Suit yourself,” I said.
