Tainted Gold (Providence Gold 3)

The silence that followed had me opening my eyes to see what was going on, just in time to catch her glaring at him before she walked over to one of the recliners and plonked her ass down, viciously pulling the lever that popped the foot rest out. Still not saying a word back, she lifted her cheek and pulled out the magazine she’d sat down on and opened it.

“That’s upside down,” I told her helpfully, looking back at Rich and missing what her response to me was. “I’m good. Well, aside from this,” I pointed at the obvious issue at hand. Maybe best not to call it that, the hand thing was still a sore subject.

Rolling his eyes, Rich looked over at Lily and grinned. “Morning, Lily!”

“Good morning, Rich,” she replied, looking anywhere but at him.

“Was it a good morning?”

That was enough to break her embarrassment. Getting slowly up off the couch, she snapped, “Eat shit and die, you big asshole!” Before storming out of the room.

Told you he wasn’t a charmer!

Bursting out laughing, he shook his head and only narrowly avoided Beau who was storming out after her best friend. “You’ve got a way with the ladies, man.”

Nodding, he grinned over at me as he took Beau’s recently vacated chair. “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”

“What are you actually doing here?” I asked, knowing full well he wouldn’t have turned up just to check in on me.

“Dude from last night is making waves,” he sighed. “Apparently, he’s now accusing the PD of putting him in a cell with us, and allowing us to rough him up because of who you are.”

“Is he that stupid?” Getting a droll look in response, I nodded, realizing what I’d just asked. “He’s that stupid.”

“Your parents have called the lawyer again,” he muttered, both of us wincing at the same time. “Yeah, he wasn’t happy about it either. If it helps,” he added, “it seems to have made him more determined to kick the dude’s ass, though?”

Yeah, that definitely helped. “What do we do now?”

“If you’d checked your phone, you’d have found out that we’ve been given the day off while he talks to the po-po about it,” he yawned, groaning as he stretched out and wiggled his ass into the chair.

“Make yourself comfortable why don’t you,” Beau snapped as she walked back in carrying a cup of coffee.

Both of us tensed as she moved in his direction, most likely thinking the same thing – that she was going to dump it out on his crotch. Instead, she passed it over to him, pulling her hand back quickly before turning to look at me. “If you’ve got the day off, could you help with King Ferdinand?”

Who the shit was King Ferdinand?* * *The better question as I discovered minutes later was – who the shit called their chicken King Ferdinand the chicken?

“It’s a Pekin chicken,” Lily told us as we stared down at the bird pecking at our feet. “I’ve had him since he was born.”

Both of us looked over at her as she spoke and then looked back at each other. “It’s a Peking chicken?” we asked at the same time, definitely thinking the same thing.

“Pekin, not Peking.”

“Baby,” I muttered, doing my best not to laugh. “It still sounds like number eighty-six on the menu sitting on my counter at home whether you add the g on or not.”

I lost the battle at the same time as Rich and burst out laughing, which apparently was a big mistake. “Screw you guys!” she hissed, leaning in and poking both of us on the chest. “We don’t discuss food of that variety around him.”

“True story,” Beau added. “Would you like someone to discuss eating wiener’s around about now?”

That made me stop laughing at the same time that Rich started laughing even harder. He could do that, his dick didn’t have penis traumatic stress disorder like mine did – the lucky bastard.

Then something occurred to me. “You called your chicken King Ferdinand?”

Nodding happily, Lily smiled as she looked down at him. “Yeah, I loved the Disney cartoon Brave.”

That’s all fair and well, but… “You called a chicken King Ferdinand?” I repeated again.

“Did she give you a brain injury too?” Beau asked, looking at me closely.

“What’s wrong with his name?” Lily whispered, looking almost heartbroken that I didn’t like it.

Oh, I definitely liked it, and for this reason. “Baby,” I breathed, holding her face in my hands. “It’s called King Ferdinand the chicken. His initials are basically KFC.”

It took a second for it to register with the rest of them, but after that, the only one not laughing was Lily as she stared in horror at the pet in question.

What neither of the females had mentioned though, was that KFC wasn’t the only pet she had – something which I found out at that second as a freak of chicken nature walked out of what I’d thought was a tool shed inside another enclosure. What it really was, was a house big enough to hide the King Kong of cocks.