Page 3 of Selah's Wish

“I can’t believe we got our asses whooped by a bunch of toddlers,” Wrecker exclaims, wheezing the words out between huffy pants as he draws oxygen into his lungs.

“We’ve gotta hit the gym. Often,” I suggest. “We’re outta shape.”

“When did that happen?” Striker probes.

“We’ve gotten lazy over the last year, apparently,” I state. “We’ve had more church meetings than ever before which means we’ve sat on our asses since coming here. Things have been quiet, too quiet, and we’ve become complacent.”

“Because we haven’t had any enemies show their faces since being here,” Wrecker summarizes, clicking his tongue. “They’ve been laying low since we joined forces and blew up their facilities. They’re cowards, always have been and always will be.Right now, they’re using their connections to not only disappear, but cover their tracks.”

“I’m sick of being on the defense. It’s time we take more offensive measures,” I angrily state. “They’ve taken enough from us, it’s time we take back what’s ours.”

“And we will,” Wrecker insists. “Once we have all of the intel and have ourselves a solid game plan.”

“We’re waiting on our inside sources to come through for us,” Prowler reminds me.

“They will,” Striker predicts. “We weren’t the only ones who uncovered who the dirty pieces of shits are. Don’t forget, they came to us not the other way around. They aren’t playing around but because the asswipes are on the right side of the law, things have to happen a certain way.”

The twins aren’t sensible when it comes to anything serious on most days. So when they do become rational in their thinking, instead of attempting to be the clowns of a situation, everyone sits back and listens. Their intuitions have saved our asses more often than not.

“Alright, I’ll catch y’all later,” I state as I roll over until I’m on all fours and push myself upward.

“Have fun cleaning Nitro’s room, man,” Prowler says around a laugh.

“We have to start working out more,” I mumble as I make it to my feet. My punishment for being on the losing side of the war is that I clean his room. This is going to take me half the night to complete because he’s been putting it off for days and the pile oftoys and clothes has gotten higher. “Don’t forget your end of the loss.”

“Fuck,” Wrecker mutters. “I’ll get the outside toys back where they belong. You jackasses have fun painting the girls’ nails.”

“Wait! Last time we got assigned that we ended up with our nails painted too,” Striker protests.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Prowler exclaims. “I kinda liked the black polish, made me look like a badass.”

I shake my head and chuckle as I walk into the house. Life is never boring with my brothers around. They keep things interesting.

TWO

Selah

The womenand I are in the kitchen scraping pots and pans, laughing while sharing stories of our men and children after a communal meal that took place in the Roanoke’s clubhouse. We try not to intrude on their group activities, not wanting to wear out our welcome, but when we’re invited, we accept the invitation without a second thought.

Belle and Rory, Jingles and Banshee’s old ladies, blast Christmas carols on the speaker, shaking their hips and bumping ours when we don’t immediately join in on the dance. When the song switches over and Candy Shop by 50 Cent projects throughout the kitchen, her eyes widen in surprise as she gasps.

“Someone’s messed with my playlist! Jingles! You’re in so much trouble, mister,” she bellows out a growl as she stomps out of the room.

“How much trouble do you think he’s in right now?” Harper inquires. None of us answer because it’s not often that Belle gets angry so there’s no telling what she’s going to do or how she’sgoing to react. But we’re all willing to help her get a little payback if the situation calls for it.

“She’s not going to take this well,” Ryleigh professes. “Her playlists are sacred.”

“No doubt about that,” Rory snorts. “She acts meek and shy, but I promise you, when the situation calls for it, that woman can hold a nasty grudge and in response becomes as mean as a rattlesnake.”

Now, that’s a surprising turn of events. My interactions with her, even when Moira was missing and it was discovered she was my M, never lost her cool. She’s so damn sweet that it nearly gives you a toothache.

“Well,” Laney drawls out, “I say we don’t let a good beat go to waste.”

The other women and I glance at each other, our faces alight with beaming smiles as we nod in agreement. From there, we begin shimmying our hips and crouching low to the ground as we enthusiastically sing along with the high-energy lyrics.

We're so invested in the music that we don’t hear the kitchen door swing open. “Hell, yeah. This is where the party is happening at,” Prowler whoops. He rushes over to us and jumps in the middle, shaking his ass and dipping down low with us.

I’m not surprised in the least when Scythe refuses to let Prowler be the center of attention and rushes over, leaping into the fray of the pulsating beat. These two guys can dance, but that shouldn’t be surprising considering they use their hips in more provocative ways from what I’ve ‘accidentally’ overheard during drunken rumblings in the club.

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