Page 65 of The Silencer

I grin and sock him in the arm, only hurting myself in the process.

I shake my hand out and sigh. “You have huge arms. You really need to cut back on the exercising.”

He doesn’t respond, not that I expect him to, but my attention is drawn to the house.

Anthony comes into view, walking toward us, a beautiful woman on his arm.

My jovial spirits plummet, and I find myself scowling. Well, who the fuck is that?

“Who is that?” I ask Teddy, not that I expect an answer. He never talks. I have no idea what his voice sounds like. Oh my god, what if he sounds like Kermit the Frog? I will die if that’s the case.

“Honestly, why is she so pretty?” I grumble and then smooth my hand through my hair. It’s not nearly as nice as model lady, who is walking arm in arm with Anthony. Maybe he likes how full hers is, how long.

I could grow my hair out, I think as they start to approach.

I shift on my feet and fold my arms across my chest, glowering at them, shooting signals toward Anthony. The I don’t share ones that hopefully he understands. Or at least acknowledges. Not that he’s even looking my way.

No, he’s looking intently at that woman. Like she hangs the sun and moon. Not that either of those things are hung.

Anthony is though. He’s hung real nice.

Like a porn star.

I wonder if sexy lady knows this or not.

Fuck. He told me he wasn’t gay and yet there I went, sucking his dick like an eager puppy.

I narrow my eyes as they make their way toward me, so much so that they’re almost closed when they come to a stop before us.

Anthony’s lips twitch, and I pop my eyes open to make sure he sees how unhappy I am with this little turn of events.

“You out enjoying the sun?” he asks, and I roll my eyes dramatically.

“It’s always sunny here, Anthony. It’s Southern California.” I turn my gaze to the beauty next to him and force a wide smile onto my face.

“Hello there. I’m Tatum Barlowe, and you are?”

She peers over at Anthony, a knowing look in her eyes before extending her perfectly smooth hand toward mine. She even has her nails done and they look expensive.

“Sabrina Nightingale. Nice to meet you, Tatum.”

Nightingale. Are you fucking kidding me? Even her last name towers over mine. And she has nice boobs, which I sadly lack.

“Nice to meet you as well.”

I’m lying and they can tell.

“Are you a friend of Angelo’s?” she asks, and I peer over my shoulder at my friend, who is bending over and inspecting some kind of pink flower.

“Yes. And a friend of Anthony’s as well.”

“Ah, I see.”

Anthony shifts next to her and runs a hand across his jaw. I glower at him, and I swear his eyes twinkle.

Asshole.

“So you’re the reason we’re in all this trouble?” Sabrina asks, and I huff in annoyance.

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