Inmate of the Month (Souls Chapel Revenants MC 7)

We arrived into the pool area to find the hot tub nearly full. The only spot that was left was the one we’d occupied together earlier.

Laric walked right up to it and planted his ass in the seat.

“Where’d y’all come from?” Trick asked curiously, his eyes going to the side of the house as if the answer lay in the direction we’d come from.

“You know exactly what they were doing, dummy,” Trick’s wife, Swayze, said. “Just like you know when anyone ever gets laid. You have sex radar.”

The other women, along with Swayze, laughed.

My face would’ve flamed if I wasn’t so damn mellow at that moment in time.

I’d just been fucked senseless. That was my reasoning.

“Join us.” Trick paused. “Unless you need to go clean up. Because there are some things I don’t mind sharing with Laric, but his spunk is one of them I won’t.”

I shook my head, my eyes wide, as I turned to Laric.

Laric rolled his eyes and reached for me.

I went into the hot tub a lot easier than I had the first time, and instead of nearly drowning myself, I managed to find my way nicely into Laric’s lap.

From there, we proceeded to spend the next hour and a half teasing and joking around, and not once did I feel left out of the tight-knit group’s conversations.

I felt like I was part of the team.

Part of Laric’s life.

It was the best.

CHAPTER 12

You were my cup of tea, but I drink champagne now.

-Catori to an ex-boyfriend

CATORI

I frown as a curled-up chimpanzee comes across my scrolling hell.

I tilt my head, then click on the video, my eyes taking in the chimpanzee that looks like she’s so old that she’s mummified.

A man is leaning over her, obviously trying to get her to eat.

The only thing is, I don’t think that poor chimpanzee can eat. She’s dying.

At least, that was what the video with the sad as fuck music said.

Then, the chimpanzee opens her eyes and they lock on the old man hovering over her.

At the bottom of the screen, there’s a description of the old man and the chimpanzee’s history. The old man used to be the chimpanzee’s caretaker once upon a time.

And when the chimp was transferred to a new facility, the doctor stayed behind.

Fast forward years later, and the chimp is dying of old age, and the old doctor doesn’t look that far behind.

But that doesn’t stop the old doctor from painfully dropping to his hands and knees and running his shaky, gnarled fingers over the length of the dying chimp’s back.

The chimp finally realizes who the old man is, and her poor little hand can barely lift off of the pile of hay that’s on the ground beneath her.

“Oh, my God,” I cried, my eyes filling with more tears as one after the other they fall down the length of my cheeks.

“What the fuck are you crying about?” Laric asked, sounding alarmed.

I looked up, surprised to find him there staring at me.

“What?” I asked, wiping my eyes as I felt like a complete boob for crying over the video.

“Why are you crying?” He raised his voice, hands fisting at his sides as he looked at my phone as if whatever he needed to vanquish lie in its depths.

I showed him the screen, and his face scrunched up.

Even all pissy and angry he was beautiful.

“This chimp is dying and her original caretaker is back to visit her.” I sniffled.

“Oh.” He paused. “Okay.”

He was now backing out of the room.

“So I had to run to the big house today,” I said, my eyes widening. “And steal some of Six’s tampons.”

Laric blanched even more. “Nobody managed to get me.”

His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t call them to tell them that you were coming first?”

I shrugged. “I made it.”

His head tilted. “Just because you don’t think that he can get here, doesn’t mean that he won’t. Or can’t.”

I sighed. “I figured this would be fixed faster.”

“It’s been a week,” he drawled.

I shrugged. “I’m bored. I don’t do well with bored.”

His lips twitched. “You can do some of my paperwork if you’re really that bored.”

He gestured at the table where there were stacks and stacks of paperwork.

I scrunched up my nose. “I moved some of it today because I wanted to eat my cereal at a table. But I can’t even read your handwriting, so even if I wanted to help—which I don’t—I couldn’t. No comprendo your shit handwriting-o.”

He snorted. “One day I might get it done.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Paperwork for the state.” He paused. “And other things that I’d rather not do. Service dog requests. Things like that.”

“Hmm,” I said. “Sounds important.”

“It is.” He shrugged as if he really didn’t care. “I just don’t like doing paperwork. What’s so hard about asking me these questions over the phone? Why do they make me do paperwork when it’s not necessary?”