Page 15 of Running on Empty

“Sure.” Her smile seemed genuine, and that in itself helped lift my spirits. “I love shit like reruns of ‘America’s Next Top Model’ or some crap show where super pretty people cry because they don’t like their hair cut.” Her grin widened. “It’s the sadist in me.”

“What about the wedding ones where they all cry because they hate the dress, cry because they love the dress, and then the mother or MIL cries because she wanted something else. Like, so much crying! Areallbetas like that? Because fuck!”

She chuckled in response and then shook her head. “Nope, some of us are not really into the whole patriarchal bullshit around marriage. I do love a good ritual, just not one where people are compelled to obey due to gender roles. I’m a domme,” she explained.

“What, really?” I picked up a tea towel and then started whipping the air with it, grinning. “Like… that kinda domme?” She nodded slowly. “Tell me that’s how you know the boys. You line them up and whip their arses, don’t you? Please say yes.”

“They did meet me in a professional capacity,” she replied, “but not as a participant. They needed someone who could come into clubs like the Viper Room…” My smile faded. “And not look out of place. A friend of a friend referred me to the people who are investigating the spread of Rush and I agreed, for a very nice fee. But if you wanted to indulge that impulse to smack around your neighbours, I could give you some tips.”

“That would be weird.” The words were out of my mouth before I even thought about them. “Not from a kink shaming place but…” My lips twisted into something like a smile. “I’m the kid sister they never had.”

“Is that what this is?” Scarlett hadn’t seemed like the kind of girl who spanked people for fun when I first met her, but as I looked at her it was like something else rose in her eyes. Something eminently confident, so much so it was as if she was channelling alpha energy. “Well, that must be why they asked me to relay an invitation. If pizza and reality TV isn’t more alluring, they said they were having a BBQ tonight.”

“Shit!” I jerked open my cupboards, hissing at the sparse pickings inside. “OK, how do you feel about a quick Woolies run instead of pizza and TV? I’ve gotta pick something up—”

“They said you’d say that and not to worry about bringing anything.” She placed a careful, gentle hand on my arm. “You are enough, all on your own.”

“The boys’ mum basically kept me alive during my teenage years,” I said, shaking my head. “She was always feeding me. I have to bring something.” I looked at Scarlett and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe a good bottle of wine and some nice chocolates?”

“Pull some clothes on then, omega, and get your arse into gear. I’ll drive the fancy new car the boys gave me for while I’m in town,” she said, dangling the keys in front of me.

Chapter10

"Stevie!”

The sound of Lois’ voice as I entered the Kelly house raised my spirits instantly. She rushed over, wrapping her arms around me and giving me the best hug, just like always. My arms went out, hovering in the air for a second before I hugged her back, keeping a grasp on the bottle of wine and box of chocolates.

And this was why I always tried to keep a fucking lid on shit, which worked really well, right up until it didn’t.

Growing up like I did, I felt like some shitty little weed, struggling towards the sunlight in a pot full of flowers. As though I was demanding water, sunlight and nutrients, at the same time as I was sure I was going to get pulled out. And Lois? Every hug, every kind word, every meal and caress were those nutrients. I grew stronger on them, and her solace was something I still needed. I wanted to hold onto her and never let go.

“How are you, darling girl?” she asked as she held me at arm’s length, those keen eyes seeing everything.

“Can’t complain,” I said with a wink. “And no one will listen if I do. I didn’t have time to make anything—”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said, waving a hand. “There’s way too much food outside.”

“So I got you these.”

Fuck, what was I doing? Bringing someone else’s mum wine and chocolates? It wasn’t even Mother’s Day. Why was I so fucking—?

“Sweetheart!” She took them from me, her cheeks flushing as a smile spread across her face. “You got rosé!”

“You always say it's your favourite,” I said with a shrug. “People at the pub reckon that’s a good drop.”

“So you’re still working at that bloody place?” She linked her arm with mine and drew me further into the house. “You know you’re too smart, too talented for that kind of work.”

“It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it,” I said.

“What’s that? Pulling beers?” Blue, one of Lois’ mates and the boys’ dad, looked up as we walked into the kitchen where he was testing how cooked the leg of lamb was. He straightened up after he pushed it back into the oven. “The country would fucking stop without barmaids. Not sure I like the sort of fuckheads that frequent that pub leering at my girl though.”

I flushed as he leaned over and pressed a fatherly kiss to my cheekbone. Blue had big daddy energy, which was always weird for me.

“Who’s leering at my Stevie girl?” Gun, another one of Lois’ mates, walked in and then held his arms out. I shook my head and walked over for a hug. “I’ll punch their fucking eyes out for taking even one look, love.”

“I know,” I said. “Wow, that’s only a little disturbing. Pretty sure my boss would sack me if the customers stopped looking.”

“That Jonesy is a sleazy fuck,” Gun said, going over to the fridge and pulling out three beers, handing me one, then cracking his own before offering Scarlett one.

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