Page 83 of Filthy Liar

Swallowing, I press my lips together, rolling them a few times as I think about the question that is on the tip of my tongue. Instead of swallowing that question, I blurt it out when I know that I probably shouldn’t.

“What about marriage, kids, your own home?”

Lifting my hand to my lips, I slap it over them. I regret saying a single word. Pinching my eyes closed, I wonder how much I upset her. But she only laughs. Opening one eye, then another, I let out a heavy exhale.

“Girl, when I tell you that I do not need to fuck up some kid, I mean that shit with my whole chest. And a husband? I couldn’t imagine. One man telling me what to do and beating the shit out of me for the rest of my life?” she says, shaking her head from side to side. I watch as she reaches out, plucks a fry from her plate, and bites it in half.

“No, thank you. I couldn’t pick the right man if my life depended on it. But I can pick a whole clubful because these guys are great, and I’m exactly where I belong. This is my chosen life, and I’m happy as can be.”

“But you sleep with all of them?” I ask.

Her brow arches. She knows what I’m asking her, and she treads carefully. I can see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she thinks about how to answer me. She’s being very careful, which I find interesting.

“I fuck the men who want to fuck me. It’s as simple as that.”

I’m not sure I like the sound of it, but I have to admit that it’s not as bad as the women in the Southern Mafia. She seems like she truly wants to be here. That’s kind of refreshing from what I’ve seen in the past.

Firecracker and I finish eating. We drop the topic of sex and the club. Instead, we talk about anything else. That is, until the door opens, and Humble’s face pops in. His eyes touch on me before they move past, connecting with hers, and he asks her to go to the grocery store.

“Okay, I’ll get a list together. Anything specific you want?” Firecracker asks Humble.

He shrugs a shoulder, and then finally, his gaze swings to meet mine. “Whatever Dillion wants.”

He turns and walks away as if he gives absolutely no shits at all whatsoever. Firecracker must sense my hesitation or upset. Because she reaches out and wraps her fingers around my wrist, squeezing it gently.

“Let’s make a list. Do you like to cook, or do you want easy stuff?”

I almost laugh at her question. “If I knew how to cook, I would probably like it,” I say.

She smiles. “I can’t cook for shit. The boys hate it when I’m here making something. Since they’ve started getting married,and most of those girls can cook, they have stopped asking me. Which is why the fridge is as empty as it is.”

I’m not really someone who cooks. I never had to growing up, but since I moved out and have been on my own, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t really afford to cook. I’ve been living off fresh fruits, veggies, and packaged crap for years.

“Let’s go with easy stuff,” I say with a laugh.

She smiles. “Then that’s what I’ll get.”

I watch as Firecracker leaves a few moments later. When she’s gone, I clean up the mess from lunch, grab a bottle of water, and head out of the kitchen. The bar is just as somber as it was when I first walked down this morning.

The mood is heavy. It’s clear to me that whatever is going on is something that is very serious. Humble is sitting with someone I don’t recognize. I move toward him, unsure what I’m supposed to be doing the rest of the day.

He notices my approach, and before I can make it to the side of his table, he is up on his feet and moving in my direction. He doesn’t stop once he’s in front of me. Instead, he almost moves through me.

Wrapping his arms around me, he picks my feet up from the floor and carries me out of the bar, up the stairs, and into his room. Only when we’re safely inside does he place me down on my feet.

“Humble?” I ask.

He hums and dips his chin, his mouth brushing mine before he lifts his head. “I needed a taste,” he rasps.

I almost laugh, but my breathing comes out in heavy pants instead. I stare at him in silence because I’m not sure what to do or what to say. So I stay quiet. He rests his forehead against mine before he murmurs.

“Whatever Firecracker said, it was a lie.”

“So you aren’t all wonderful men who make her come every time? Who take care of her and give her a purpose in life?” I ask.

He lifts his head. His eyes are wide, and he lets out a boom of laughter. Then that laughter turns into chuckles. I’m not sure how long he laughs, but I end up giggling by the time he’s done until my stomach aches.

He clears his throat, his eyes searching mine before he speaks again. “That what she said?” he asks.

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