Page 35 of Kissin Irish by Morgan
“Do you think Irish can beat Pagan?”
“Might help if you asked your brother to throw the fight.” Obviously, she didn’t think so.
“Irish doesn’t love me. He loves someone else.”
“Cece. No man’s going to make a bet to guarantee they’ll get their ass beat without being in love.”
The rest of the day and night, Pagan stayed away. Jassica stayed by my side. It was just like old times, except without Waldo. The next morning was uneventful. Irish hadn’t shown up to the kitchen. Sweet Tea said no one had seen him since yesterday.
Thorn piped up, “Shiiit. He’s upstairs passed out.”
Ugh. He stayed over the bar. I wondered if Charlotte stayed with him.
That afternoon, we buried Waldo in the lot beside my house. They’d put him in the freezer at Royal Road until they could figure out how he died. Kingpin had brought in a vet that morning to tell us just what we’d thought was true. Someone had slit poor Waldo’s throat and he bled out.
Almost everyone who stayed at Royal Road came to his makeshift funeral to show their respects. Memphis brought me a pie and placed it in my hand.
“It’s sweet potato. My mama’s recipe.”
I awkwardly held the pie while Dimple, our member who’s also an Elvis impersonator, read the dog’s last rites, in his signature voice, of course. The man had been ordained just so he could perform weddings and funerals. Then he sang, Amazing Grace. I shed a tear although I’d cried so much, I was about out of them.
Irish was notably absent. I cradled the pie like a child.
Thankfully, Jass kept everyone from coming up to me. Once everyone had gone, Pagan joined us near Waldo’s grave.
Ignoring my brother, Jass said, “I’ll wait for you on the porch.” I held the pie out to her, and thankfully she took it.
Pagan waited until she was gone. “Notice your man’s not here. Irish better show up for the fight tomorrow.”
“No, I’ve not heard from him.” Not since I caught him talking to Charlotte. I wouldn’t tell my brother that much. It’d give him too much pleasure.
Pagan put his arm around me and laughed, shaking my whole body. “I don’t know that you will hear from him. I gave that boy a right scare.”
“Fuck, Pagan. What did you do?”
“Cece.” My brother hissed, dismissively. “There are cameras in the basement.”
“What?” Mortified, I asked, “Who’s seen it?”
“Kingpin.”
“Fuck.”
“Probably Goliath.”
“Eww.”
“Villain told me about it.”
“Ugh.”
“I did not watch.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Imagine how I felt.”
I snorted. “Imagine how you felt?”
