Page 89 of Ruling Scar
“Have you lost your fucking mind?”
Russet frowns at her husband.
“Her mother will cut your fucking balls off,” Max says, still frowning.
“Gia?” Russet asks, looking between us. “Wait, why? She’s always so cool.”
“Oh, she’s great unless you decide to wound her daughter with a steak knife,” her husband says.
Russet’s lips part. “Wait. . . Lennie’s scar is because. . .”
“He sliced into her like she was a tenderloin,” Roma finishes for her. “Yeah.”
Russet tries to wipe the shock off her face which is honestly worse. “I didn’t realize. I kept asking you.” She shoves Max’s shoulder. He rocks, but never takes his eyes off me once. He becomes a father and suddenly he knows best.
“This is a fucking bad idea,” he says.
“It’s too late, brother,” Roma says. “When I helped him get home the other night she was in his bed waiting.”
“You guys are really serious?” Russet asks with a gleam of amusement.
“Yes.” That should end the conversation but it doesn’t.
“Exhibit A.” Roma shows Russet his phone. “A claw clip on the kitchen counter.”
She gasps.
He swipes. “Exhibit B. A romance novel that’s clearly not his on the coffee table.”
How fucking long did he stay in my apartment after he dropped me off the other night?
“You guys really are serious!” Russet squeals.
“Are we forgetting the part where Gia will literally fucking kill you,” Max argues.
“No,” I reply, grabbing a cupcake. He can get riled up as much as he wants, what’s it to me? As I said before, people will get used to it.
“Is she still pissed about you showing up late with a bunch of blood on your face?” Roma asks, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Is that why you came over?” Russet offers Albert pets. “To get your mind off things?”
“I have a niece to spoil.”
“A niece you won’t see when Gia hides your body,” Max darkly states.
Russet pauses her petting. “Surely, after all this time she understands it was an accident? I mean your parents work together, and you were what, how old when it happened?”
“Eight and thirteen,” Roma supplies, rocking Sailor.
“It can’t nearly be as star crossed as you’re making it out to be,” Russet reasons, but she frowns. “Wait, what was the blood about?”
“That I would like to know too, brother.” Roma won’t shut up about it. He’s made three indirect comments, frowning each time I won’t divulge information.
“It was a simple matter,” I lie. “Nothing more to it.”
“You’re threatening to kill your latest mortal enemy,” Roma says.
“Seriously, you can’t do that,” Russet says like the hypocrite she is.
