Page 26 of Unleashed

Audrey chides, “We’re no longer juveniles or delinquents.”

Feeling like a dick for saying that, I grab her into a side hug. “Yeah, you cleaned up your act. You’re not too depraved now.”

“I didn’t know you and McGrath were friends.” Nico crosses his arms and frowns at Audrey, sounding like an overprotective father.

Audrey nods as her smile dims. “We’ve been dating. Next week is our first anniversary.”

I grab Nico’s shoulder with a shake. “You’re a matchmaker, Nicky. It’s like you’re Tinder for troubled youth.” I prop my arm on his shoulder. I’m an inch taller, and it’s imperative to remind him.

At the end of the chain link, Hadley stands with her back to us and her hand on her hip as she talks to the ground. Following her gaze, I see a blonde head tipped forward, tying a shoe. Simone then looks up as she straightens. Behind her is a tall schlub dressed in khaki shorts, a green polo, and white boat shoes, no doubt auditioning for a fucking Old Navy commercial or for the role of Snooty Douche Number One at the community theater. He styles his hair way more than Wilder does for the camera. This turd makes a Ken doll with plastic hair look like a disheveled crackhead.

Tesco shouts, “Okay, all! Gather ‘round!” He resumes chewing his pink gum and grinning because God made him extra special, and everyone should be so damn grateful to bask in his essence. Fuck. I need two showers now.

Because I’m not eager to move, Nico slings his arm over my shoulders and tugs me toward the group. Ricky chats up Sylvie, who is newly single since her husband stumbled upon her fucking our former coworker and Shasta’s baby daddy, Grant Majorca. Sylvie’s husband, Billy, came home early from a business trip to find Grant with his pants bunched around his ankles and Sylvie on all fours atop the dining room table.

Apparently, his seeing Sylvie and Grant fucking on his great-aunt Sadie’s table left a sour taste in his mouth. Billy confronted Sylvie in our building’s lobby during lunch hour the next day and did not hesitate to share details. Billy regaled how Grant whined in a high-pitched voice with every thrust and how Sylvie’s tits swung as they rutted like horny raccoons behind a Dollar General dumpster. And classy to the end, though they noticed Billy, Grant grasped Sylvie until he nutted into another man’s wife.

Unfortunately, Ricky isn’t the only dipshit ringleader. His BFF, Mr. Showtime himself, looks up from his clipboard. The sun reflects off his mirrored sunglasses, a lazy staple of every cocky bastard’s wardrobe. His lopsided grin is a hit with the ladies, but it may be a sign of a stroke.

“How are you doing?” Hadley whispers next to me.

I scowl at her. “With what?”

“Simone. She brought...a date.”

“To softball practice?”

Hadley shrugs. “Audrey did too.”

Nico leans forward and hisses, “Don’t remind me!”

Hadley laughs, tilting her head, maybe deliberating whether to say more. “His name is Clay.”

“It can be Mud for all I fucking care,” I mutter, glancing Simone’s way in time to catch her, averting her gaze from me.

“Be civil,” Hadley warns. “Everyone will suspect something if you’re not.”

I toss my head back with a snort. I then cross my arms and angle my head to block her spying on my ex. “You’re kidding? No one expects decorum from me. I have zero fucks left. They already assume shit about me, anyway.”

“Well, don’t give them more to speculate.”

I glance at Rhonda standing next to Crick and make a silly face. She covers her mouth to hide her laughter, which makes me smile for the first time today. “I’m a Rubik’s Cube. Only the chosen few can master those fuckers.”

Hadley sighs with a wounded expression. “Thanks?”

“Hadley Wilder and Greg Rodwell.” We look up, confused, as our group turns toward us. Wilder’s douchey mirrors reflect us as he taps the clipboard against his leg. He looks thrilled about my return. “Am I interrupting you?” No surprise that he used her last name. He may as well piss on her leg to mark his territory.

I lean toward her and whisper, “Uh-oh. He called you Hadley. You’re in big trouble, sister. On the way home, he’ll make you suck his—” She elbows me, and since we’re the center of attention, Hadley groans. Before her embarrassment melts her face off, I look at Wilder and sneer, “Well, yeah. You are interrupting. But whatever. Carry on.”

Pivoting, Betsy clicks her tongue and wags her finger at Hadley. “Shame, shame, Mrs. Wilder. Be nice to your hubby. You’re lucky to have him.” Sick. I’d prefer being stuck in a broken elevator with menopausal chihuahuas than to be in his vicinity.

Hadley crosses her arms, glancing at Wilder, whose smirk is vomit-inducing. “I know I’m lucky.” She then shrugs. “So is he.”

Most of the crowd’s sickening approval kills the rest of my faith in humanity. It’s my turn to groan as I force down the bile.

Everyone turns back to Wilder’s blathering, but I still feel eyes on me. When I look around, I notice Simone diverting hers to her brother. I see Val watching me with a sad smile, and I wince. I don’t need her wasting her time feeling sorry for me unless cookies are involved.

Wilder says, “Let’s remember we have a trip to the Bahamas up for grabs. This is a team effort. So, let’s get to the roster. Since we lost Shasta and Grant, I made changes. Rhonda, you’ll be at third base. Nico, I want you to try first base. Audrey, I want you to cover first and third, as needed. Hadley, we’ll try you at shortstop.”

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