The Payback (Team Zulu 2)

“Wait. I know that voice.” Lettie cut in before I could answer. “Holy fuckety fuck. You’re hiding out with Muscles?”

“Kind of. It’s complicated.” I took another gulp of bubbles. I was going to need it.

“That sounds juicy. Have you banged already?” she asked with excitement.

I coughed and almost spat my champagne. “What? No!”

“Then, honey, it’s not complicated enough.”

“If I’d mentioned you were on speaker at the beginning of the call, would it have made an ounce of difference?”

Lettie snorted. “Sweetie, I know I’m on speaker. Hey, Muscles!” she called out. “If anything happens to Sage, remember the rats.”

“How could I forget,” Brandon mumbled.

“He’s helping me, that’s all. We haven’t”—I tossed one hand in the air—“banged. There will benobanging. It’s not like that.”

“I’m not judging. Intense situations sometimes make people seek comfort in each other’s bodies. And I bet that man would fuck like a champion. You should seriously consider it, is all I’m saying.”

“She’s got a point,” Brandon said without turning from his computer.

I glared daggers into the back of his head. “Keep your opinions to yourself, Brian.”

“I thought his name was Brandon,” Lettie said. “Suppose it doesn’t really matter what his name is with all that big-dick energy he’s projecting.”

Brandon piped up. “I like her.”

I slapped a hand over my eyes. This was one of those conversations I’d still be reliving twenty years from now when I was lying in bed and couldn’t sleep. “It’s like living a nightmare and there’s no way to escape.”

Brandon handed me a piece of paper with a number on it. “So Lettie can contact us.”

I nodded. “Lettie, I’m going to end this call before I need more therapy. I’ll text you our cell phone number. If you notice anything suspicious, call, okay?”

“I will. Please stay safe.”

“You, too.”

“No, I mean use protection.”

I groaned.

“Wait, you had that IUD put in, so you’re sweet,” she added.

“Lettie! Stop!”

“Pity.” She sighed. “You two would make beautiful babies.”

Ohmygod. Someone please put me out of my misery.

Behind me, Brandon coughed. I didn’t need to see his face to know he was holding in his mirth.

“My enemies treat me better than you,” I said to my ex–best friend.

She gave a sinister laugh. “Love you, darling. Ciao.”

“Love you, too. Bye.” I hitendon the most traumatic phone call of my life, and surprisingly, it’d had little to do with explaining our lives were in danger.