Page 112 of Vicious Saint
“Right? I was too. In fact, I’ve been feeling pretty proud of myself all morning.” I pause, teeth bared when I add, “Until your dumb ass came along and ruined my mood.”
Tingles, along with the meds in my head telling me to chill the fuck out, rise in my stomach. Growing fiercer and louder as his face darkens to a shade of purple.
“Why’d you have to ruin it, Rick? Hm?” My chest rises and falls in violent waves. “Why’d you have to go and say something stupid?”
“I’m sorry, okay?”
“Aw, bestie, I totally accept your apology.”
“Thank you. Now please let me go.”
I pout like the asshole I am. “But we didn’t even get to hug it out.”
“What do you want, man?”
“What I want is for you tell me what the fuck Iallegedlydid to these JV’s.”
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
Dropping my bag, it hits the floor with a loud thump, but not loud enough to draw attention from the old man entering the janitor’s closet. Then, I slide my hand into my pocket, fishing for the prize possession I’ve been missing for weeks.
“Please, Saint.” Rick resorts to begging as Halo appears already wrapped tight.
“God, I missed this guy.” I lay a quick smoochie woo on my knuckles. “I hate when he gets taken away.”
“Well, I’m glad you were reunited.”
“Was that…a sarcastic comment?” I question with a raised brow. “Because I love a good sarcastic comment.”
Of course he doesn’t respond.
Through Ricky’s beady eyes, he sees a guy about to roast him like a measly chicken. Maybe take his tongue for calling me out.
Every inch of my body ignites with the thought of doing just that. But, like I said. The leaf and good choices.
They’re counting on me.
Plus, a defensive lineman isn’t worth another flight to Holy Trinity.
I ease up my hold enough to allow the red of his face drain.
“Let’s try this question again, Rick, and I suggest you choose your answer wisely. What. Do. You. Know?”
“Just that you beat the shit out of ’em and broke their fingers.”
That’s it? Really? I put in all this fucking work.
“Are you sure? Because I’m on a streak here, Rick. Not lookin’ to break it along with your small dick.”
“I’m sure, okay!”
Releasing him with a shove, I dust off the collar of his polo. “See? Now was that so hard?”
Rick is breathing again but not scurrying off like I want him to. So, I pin him with a glare. “Need somethin’ else?”
The bemusement on his face as he shakes his head wreaks of pathetic—and I’m not a Royal Heathen about that energy.
