Page 243 of Unexpected Hero

And if that happens, the only remaining option is homicide. Right?

Unfortunately, she drove us here, dammit all to hell. It’d be much better if I drove so I could leave her on the side of the road. And as I peeled out, I’d run over her phone so the hooker couldn’t call an Uber because I can be Petty Betty when I need to be.

After all, I was raised by the best.

When Freya said Vanessa was going to join us for girls’ night out, I was excited. Although she’s never been my favorite person, she’s always seemed nice... enough.

Wrong.

So far, she spent half the night hinting about how well she knows my boyfriend’s sexual proclivities. And don’t get me started on the not-so-subtle reminder she gave me to let her know when our agreement ran up so she can be prepared for his affections to return like they always do.

Pshaw. As if I’m under a contract with him that’s about to run out.

Frustratingly, the bitch wasn’t done.

She really put a hair in my biscuit when she asked me how I liked the quad pod at his house.Then she took immense pleasure in explaining what that was.

Turns out, the quad pod is the suspension rig for when he’s rope-topping me. Or, as I so eloquently call it, the hook thing.

Naturally, I told her I loved it. That it’s my favorite thing in the world. And I swing from it every night like I’m the love child of Tarzan and Simone Biles. For added flare, I told her how I dismount with a double back tuck, directly onto James’s erect dick, sticking the landing, of course.

Bitch.

This whole damn night, she’s implying I’m just a phase and rubbing my nose in the fact that she’s been in his room. Two birds. One skanky bitch.

Err. I mean stone.

And from the way she’s watching me, it’s clear she thinks she’s slicker than greased owl shit on a hoe handle — emphasis on the ho.

There’s a reason I haven’t asked James about his past partners.

Because I don’t want to fucking know.

No good can come from that mess. Especially since I work at the place where he likely has had most of his relations and have to see these women all the flipping time.

Way back when, Stella warned me to avoid asking, pointing out that the kink community doesn’t view past partners the same way the vanilla world does. From what I’ve seen, she’s right.

Plus Papa always told me not to ask questions I didn’t want the answers to. And I took that shit to heart.

I miss him.

Despite lying to me and allowing the church shit to happen, he was a good man. He loved me. Raised me the best he could.

While I sip on my water, my lip quirks around my straw when something Papa used to say to Mama comes to mind. In their end days, he found some colorful ways to cuss her out without her knowing. Like that ol’ chestnut for cunt — See you next Tuesday. Or how he’d say fuck by saying, “If you see Kay, tell her hi.”

Sound it out if you need to — If you see kay.

I’ll have to try out a few of those on Vanessa if she keeps this shit up.I already told her thanks for sharing three times tonight. Bless her heart, she doesn’t know that means to hush up.

I might have to dust off the I’ll pray for you Southern blessing before the night is done. In other words, only the Lord can help you, honey.

Speaking of the witch, here she comes, sauntering over from the bar with a beer. She tips her chin at my bag and hollers over the music. “Is that a new purse?”

“No. Freya lent it to me. I didn’t have one to match this dress.”

“What?” she squawks, leaning closer.

“It’s Freya’s. The purse. Fre-ya’s,” I yell, overenunciating each syllable.

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