Page 6 of The Ones We Fight For

Motorcycle Asshole glared at her, then scanned his surroundings to gauge if anyone had heard her comment. Talia had purposely said it loud enough to make sure that people would. His mortification was a mission accomplished.

“Very funny,” he growled under his breath.

“You know, I might have been wrong about you.” Talia cocked her head to the side, a wry smile playing across her lips. “You may be one of Satan's loyal subjects, but you’re nice enough to run to the store to get your girlfriend tampons. Then again, cardboard applicators are basically torture devices, so that’s a knock against you, too.”

“What?” Motorcycle Asshole bunched his face in confusion and looked down at the tampon box. The bag of pads in his other hand, she noticed, were nighttime pads, thick and unflattering. His girlfriend was going to be sorely disappointed that she was about to wear a diaper that could easily be seen through clothes. Not cute.

“Everything you’ve got going on right now is wrong.” Talia gestured to the products he’d chosen. “Cardboard applicators are for people who don’t mind raking out their insides and leaving permanent scars, and those pads are for people with major incontinence.”

It was an over exaggeration, but Talia couldn’t help but want to piss him off. Instead, he just looked anxiously at her, at the items, and then back at her again.

“You’re lying,” he stated confidently.

Talia laughed out loud. “Yes, clearly, I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve only been a woman for twenty-six years. That does not at all qualify me to know anything about it.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “What am I supposed to get?”

Surprised that he didn’t blow her off and was genuinely waiting for a response, Talia pondered her options. In the end, showing him was the best recourse. Not only would it be a learning opportunity, but she would be saving some poor soul from having to use the piss-poor products this guy was about to buy. It was also a way to parade Motorcycle Asshole all the way back to the feminine hygiene section with his current items so more people would see. She never understood why men were so weird about periods, but she would be remiss if she didn’t use his embarrassment to her advantage.

“Follow me.” Talia motioned, gearing up to give him a little exposure therapy. Looking back over her shoulder, she watched him hesitate for a moment before ultimately abandoning his place in line and jogging after her.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” he asked as he caught up to her.

The short answer to that question was “no” because the last time Talia had been in the store was almost two decades ago, but she was completely capable of finding tampons.

“I own the store, so I should think so,” Talia replied curtly.

“Great,” Motorcycle Asshole grumbled. She wanted to ask him what exactly his problem was because the word “great” shouldn’t ever be uttered with such venom, but she let it slide. She would be more than ready to enact her revenge when they got to their destination.

Sure enough, she found the health and beauty section and made her way over to the wall of feminine hygiene products. Motorcycle Asshole trailed behind her silently, and she cleared her throat, looking over at him before loudly asking, “So, what size tampons does she need?”

“Size?” Aware she was deliberately tormenting him, Motorcycle Asshole averted his gaze from two customers passing by and shrunk his shoulders to make himself smaller.

“Yeah. There’s super plus, super, regular, and light,” Talia explained, keeping her voice loud enough so that anyone in the vicinity could hear them.

“I—I don’t know!” he stammered. “Normal?”

Amused, Talia smiled to herself. Between the pink in his cheeks and the way he was shifting his stance every few seconds, she knew she had the upper hand. Motorcycle Asshole may have exuded dominance earlier at the crash, but now she was the one wielding all the power.

“You don’t know how big your girlfriend needs them?” she asked, hoping to fluster him even more.

“She’s twelve… or eleven, so, no,” he replied bluntly, the scowl on his face returning.

Talia feigned clutching her pearls. “Your girlfriend is eleven? Well, I have to inform you, that’s highly illegal and gross.”

“That’s disgusting. My niece is eleven.” His nose scrunching, Motorcycle Asshole gripped his period products harder, the packaging bending at his fingertips. “You know what? I don’t need this. I’m just going to get the shit I picked out already.”

He turned around, and Talia jutted her hand out to stop him, feeling a little guilty. Not about him, of course, but about his poor niece, who was probably horrified that her uncle was the one purchasing her tampons and pads.

“Here.” Talia took the box out of his hand and grabbed some regular-sized tampons with plastic applicators, shoving them in his arms before proceeding to replace the nighttime pads with long underwear liners.

“How do I know you’re not just trying to upsell me right now?” Motorcycle Asshole cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh, I am fully planning on pocketing the extra thirty cents. That will get me approximately one-third of a candy bar,” Talia replied with mock enthusiasm.

Motorcycle Asshole rolled his eyes before turning to walk away without so much as a thank you. He only made it halfway down the aisle when he stopped and turned back to face Talia again.

“How much do you need for two?” he asked.

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