Page 151 of Beautifully Shattered
“Well shit. Good luck in keeping that secret.”
Fuck. I’ll need all the good luck I can get.
30
As far as lockdowns go, this one wasn’t so bad. Probably because the Southern Sadists still spent it together, and you just don’t feel so isolated with your family around.
That, and the fact Ringo’s property is still crawling with Marx security guards. It makes it hard to believe the streets across the state are like ghost towns when it’s bustling here.
A week ago today, Jols and JD declared their love for each other, and no one died. It was a beautiful day, and it wasn’t even a wedding or anything. Just a celebration of love, which had me getting a little tipsy. It made for a tough hour-long ride on the back of Ringo’s bike when we finally headed home though.
I’d been nervous about potentially getting ambushed by Satan’s Rebels again, but the ride there and back was, thankfully, uneventful.
I guess Ringo’s club really did wipe most of them out the day we raided their compound to save Darla and Nessy.
The week has been quiet, and I’ve been getting antsy just sitting around doing nothing, but Ringo kept assuring me there’d be an update today. Something that might finally bring us closer to finding my sister.
“Don’t the Doxies usually do this?” I ask through the protective layer of the face mask as I stare down at the shopping list on Ringo’s phone.
They are all ridiculously random things that Smitty apparently asked us to grab on our way to the compound this afternoon.
“Yeah, but since we were out, I offered.” Ringo readjusts his mask with a grumble. He hasn’t stopped complaining about having to put it on.
It’s been a while since I’ve worn one. Most of the last few months, I’ve spent hiding away, but today, we’re out in public like there’s not a massive target on my back.
It’s hard to care though, because this all feels so… normal.
I smile behind my mask as Ringo pushes a shopping trolley through the entrance of the Redfield supermarket.
This feels very domestic.
The thought makes me grin.
I never thought I’d see the day Ringo and I would go grocery shopping together.
I mean, I know that’s what married couples do, but we aren’t exactly like normal married couples, and our life in general isn’t exactly normal.
Not right now, anyway. Hopefully, one day it will be.
“What the hell is a Zipper Dipper?” I ask, glancing up from the screen to my husband, catching him frowning as he steers the trolley along the top of the first aisle.
“No fucking clue.”
“Maybe they mean Zooper Dooper?”
His frown deepens, almost comically, those warm whiskey eyes flicking to me. “What the fuck is a Zooper Dooper?”
I stop walking, my mouth dropping open behind my mask as I stare at my husband in disbelief.
“You don’t know what a Zooper Dooper is?”
He throws a hand up, shaking his head. “No fucking clue.”
“It’s those different coloured icy poles in the long, narrow plastic sleeves.”
His brows lift in understanding. “Shit. Never knew that’s what they were called.”
I giggle. “Stick with me, husband. I’ll teach you all about unimportant things.”
