Page 67 of Gluttony

“Next time you two tell me not to kill someone, I’m not listening. I’m gonna find the fucker, then I’m gonna turn him inside out.” Holding out his hand for his glass, a dangerous grin spreads across Hadley’s face.

“I think we all need to talk about what this whole thing is.” I’m attempting to be the voice of reason.

Hayes is spiraling about something. I feel like I should know what, but it’s been a whirlwind lately. And Hadley is bubbling with the need to find Mickey and kill him. There’s not even a shadow of a doubt that he’ll do it either. Having this conversation now should help to center them, focus them, so we can actually get shit done in the long run.

“With Bowie, I mean.” I sit on the couch Bowie occupied before she left the room and the twins pull their focus to me, Hayes still standing, and Hadley unmoved from his position. “I know you want to keep her.” I make sure to look at both of them.

Hayes rears back a little. “When did I ever say that? You’re talking out of your arse, Ry.” Shaking his head, he pours himself a fresh bourbon.

“You don’t need to say it, big bro. We got that whole twin thing going on. And Orion isn’t fucking stupid. We can read you like a book. You haven’t been so invested in something since we started H20.”

“Wanker.” Hayes doesn’t even try to argue. He knows the truth as much as we do.

“She was pretty honest with us tonight. And I know we’ve all had our moments with her. Including you, H, so don’t stand there shaking your head again like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m feeling things that I didn’t expect, especially considering the circumstances, but there you have it. If we’re all in, then the next conversation should be with Bowie.” I’m laying it out there, hoping Hayes is ready to admit his own feelings. Hadley’s been admitting it since day one, but I still feel like we need this.

“Of course I’m in, I was in balls deep just over a week ago. I don’t know how I’ve held off doing it again for so long. She’s so fucking tight.” Hadley moans and rubs his growing hard on.

“For fuck sake, Hads.” Hayes sighs and sips his drink.

“What? I’m tellin’ ya, as soon as you’ve slid your cock into that beautiful pink pussy in there, you’ll wanna set up house and call it home.”

“Hayes?” Interrupting whatever the fuck it is they’re doing, I bring us back around to the conversation at hand. “You in? Because you know we’re all or none.”

He looks up at me, his elbows resting on his knees and glass still in his grip, then takes a deep breath. “I’m in, but I think we’re all forgetting something real important.”

There’s a knock on the door of the suite, followed by more of a bang before it swings open and four people rush inside.

I say people…

“New York City Police Department, everybody, hands up. We’re here for Bowie Diamond Glitter Jones.”

Ah, shit.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Bowie

One thing about me is that I don’t follow instructions very well.

Scratch that. I can follow orders when they’re logical and not based on stupid, annoying, knee-jerk reactions, which is exactly what Hayes gave me.

“You should go to bed.”I mouth the words like a petulant child, and in my head, Hayes has a voice that’s three pitches too high.

“Get some sleep.”Who the fuck does he think he is?

“It’s been a long evening.” This time I stick my tongue out.

It’s that same logic that has me eavesdropping on them with my hand cupped at my ear. Problem is, all I can hear is mumbling with a couple of words here and there. I wish I had a glass, the only ones available are in the main room and of course my bedroom doesn’t have a bathroom. I guess this is where they put the children.

Fuckers.

Crossing my arms and leaning against the door, I think back to my confession and the way the three of them stayed stoicthe whole time. It was as if none of my words were a surprise to them, and if it weren’t for Hayes digging his nails into the expensive fabric of the tan couch, I’d believe it.

They were pretending to have their walls up, but inside they were pissed. Even Orion. Especially Orion, which is no surprise since the whole con was based on his family heirloom.

A heavy ball of regret drops low in my stomach. Sure, I’m pissed that things have gone so wrong. Angry at Mickey and angry at myself. Concerning the guys, I’m just frustrated because it’s easier than being devastated. They’re the victims in this whole scheme and I can’t allow myself to rewrite the script and omit the one simple fact…I’m the criminal.

Sliding down the door, I wrap my arms around my shins and bring them tight against my chest, resting my forehead on my knees. Everything is going to suck but, deep down, that’s not the cause of my pain.

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