I stay where I am while the guys talk to Hades and the women side-eye Persy. I’m beginning to see why she’s never asked anyone for help before. Everyone but me seems to like Hades and distrust the scantily-clad woman he brought with him.
I bide my time, hoping I would get an opportunity to talk to her when neither Hades or Waylon are looking.
But in the end, I don’t have to wait that long. When Hades turns his back to start pouring everyone fingers of some old Glendaver bourbon he received as a gift for a business deal, she teeters over to me on her high stilettos.
“Oh, my God, Wedding Dress Girl! How the hell are you? It’s so great to see you here!” she calls out, waving at me like a long-lost friend. She spoke softly the last time we met, but now her voice pitches unnaturally high as she comes over to me.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was drunk or high. But I can’t smell any alcohol on her. And her pupils aren’t dilated. In fact, her eyes are quite sharp. They meet mine directly as if they’re trying to say something completely different from the rest of her body language.
“And look at you in this cute dress! Can I tell you something? Your boobs look great! I mean, are they even real?”
She reaches out and cups my breasts, squeezing them to check for their authenticity.
I hear a couple of audible gasps go up from the Fairgood spouses.
And Waylon comes over to pull her away.
“Go find a seat,” he says, glowering down at her.
“Sor-ry!” Persy says, making the word two distinct syllables and flapping her hand bye-bye.
I’m not sure if she’s apologizing to me or Waylon, but she does as commanded, teetering over to a couch and collapsing onto it like a party girl at the end of a long night.
But I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry at all. Because when she felt me up, I saw the thing she tucked into the cup of my strapless bra.
A note. Stephanie just slipped me a note.
“What did she say to you?” Waylon asks as soon as we retire to the room we’re supposed to be staying in for the whole weekend. It’s as impressive as the rest of the house with a large bed, painted sky ceiling, and colorful art on the wall.
But I can barely appreciate it because I can practically feel Waylon’s distrust like a cloud hanging over us.
He’s tired, I can tell. It was a long ride down here, and even before Hades passed around the bourbon, we’d been drinking off and on all day.
“What did who say to me?” I ask, immediately taking off my high heels. Partly because my feet are killing me, but mostly so I don’t have to look at him as I attempt to play innocent. “Kyra? Nitra? June?"
“What did Persy say to you?” he demands.
I hate that he calls her that just because his brother commanded it.
“You heard her,” I answer, setting the heels I pulled off next to the bed. “She said she really liked my dress and felt me up a little. It looked like she was drunk.”
It's technically not a lie. But Waylon scans his eyes over me as if he suspects I'm not telling the truth. “Okay, then strip.”
I freeze. “What?”
“Strip,” he repeats. He stresses each letter in the one-syllable word so hard, it sounds like it has five.
“Why do you want me to—”
“Meemaw told me about the note she found that said ‘Stephanie’ in your scrubs,” he informs me, his face stony. “I know that’s Persy’s real name. If she passed you another note, I want to make sure you're not forgetting to mention it to me like you did last time.”
I swallow, and he waits in dead silence with his hands crossed in front of him.
He’s only mentioned his time in the Army in passing, as if his real life didn’t start until he decided to stop taking orders and form the Ruthless Reapers with Hades. But his stance reminds me that he used to be a soldier, willing and trained to wait patiently for things to happen.
Fine. I awkwardly pull my borrowed dress down over my shoulders and let it fall to the ground in a pool around my feet.
“There, are you happy?” I ask.
“Bra and panties too.” He doesn’t answer my question, but his stony expression tells me that no, no, he’s not happy.
I hesitate, and apparently, that's the wrong move.
Instead of waiting for me to follow his command, he comes over and pushes down my panties.
Nothing there, of course. But that doesn't stop him from reaching around to unhook my bra from the back. He takes it off and immediately flips it over to look inside both cups.