Page 47 of Vile Bastards
“Do you enjoy having your balls attached to your body?” I ask absently, but he ignores me. Bohnes moves away toward the Chevelle and opens the driver’s side door.
“I’ve got things to do today. Think you can handle escorting Scarlett home? Or do you want to just cut to the chase and dump her in the McKenzie River again?”
“I swear to fuck …” Widow grinds out as Bohnes chuckles, slamming the car door and taking off with his tires spinning in the mud. He turns a few impressive doughnuts, tearing up the soil and narrowly avoiding the trees before he rockets off, and I sigh. “One day, you’re going to wake up and he’s going to be standing above you with an axe.”
I laugh at that; I can’t help myself.
“You’re probably right,” I say with a long sigh, staring through the trees in the general direction that Bohnes went. “But he’ll never swing that axe on me, so it’s not really my problem, is it?”
I glance over my shoulder to find Widow with his eyes narrowed, his breathing slow and controlled. He is this close to coming unhinged. I’d like to see it, what he’d really do to me if given free rein.
“Let me have a moment with Alexei?” I cock a brow, but Widow’s already shaking his head with a disparaging laugh.
“Yeah, go right ahead and pay a special visit to your newest and very last fuckboy.” He points at me. “Remember this when I start asking to add fuckgirls to my roster.”
I whirl around on him, dragging my braid over my shoulder and giving it a yank. The pain in my scalp helps cool the crazy inside of me. The longer this goes on, the more I see it: I am one possessive bitch.
These males are mine. I’ve mated them. I’ve claimed them.
Would I kill a girl who fucked what’s mine? I might. I mean, I’d kill the guy, too, but that’s beside the point. That’s … that’s an issue.
“The second you bring a fuckgirl into this, we’re done. Permanently.”
“How fair is that?” Widow quips, opening the door on his ‘Vette. He climbs in and starts the engine as I walk around the hood to stare at him. I rest my forearms on the roof and lean in, both so that he can see my face and also so that my tits are like right there and impossible to miss.
“It isn’t fair, is it? Absolutely one-sided.” I lean in even further. “I don’t give a fuck. You either come to heel, you stupid little fuckboy, or you can show yourself the door. Mention fuckgirls again and see what happens.”
Widow cranks up KMZI 66.6, treating us both to a classic: ‘Gangsta’s Paradise’ from Coolio and L.V. Ah, West Coast hip-hop from the nineties. Delicious.
“You will marry me one day, Scarlett Force. In a white fucking dress in a goddamn church, and if you don’t catch fire during the ceremony”—Widow whistles and shakes his head at me, putting his mouth a hairsbreadth from mine—“I’ll screw some babies into you, and you can call yourself Mrs. Lawless for the rest of your life.”
I put my hands on his shoulders, allowing my eyes to drift closed, and then I exhale softly like I’m about to kiss him. Instead, I knee him in the nuts, and he grabs me by the hair, yanking my head back.
We both stand there panting, staring into one another’s eyes.
“Go talk to your fuckboy but remember: a rich boy like that can never understand you the way I do.” Widow searches my gaze before releasing me and turning away. He cups his nuts with a groan, and I allow a crude smirk to take over my mouth.
“Good boy. Sit tight and wait for me, cupcake?” I give him another quick flick of my eyes and offer up a lascivious lick of my lips which he ignores, sliding into his car and jacking his system up. “Oh, look at me, I’m Widow and I’m a sigma male.” I scoff and shake my head, heading into the warehouse and pausing in the square of late evening sunshine that fills the crack between the large metal doors.
Alexei is busy wiping down the chairs, scrubbing the ones the boys used and leaving mine off to the side. Either he already cleaned it or he’s not planning on cleaning it.
Either way, we need to talk.
“You okay there, buddy?” I ask, trying to make light of things. He lifts that haughty gaze of his up to my face and then stands up straight.
“So many things are out of my control, and this house is less than sanitary, but I can at least do this, can’t I? Keep some things clean.” He shoves the chair back into the table and looks up at me. “You don’t seem entirely recuperated yourself.”
