Tainted Gold (Providence Gold 3)

He also didn’t tell me what my dad was doing to him, but I knew. I’d caught him doing it on a couple of occasions and had threatened to tell Mom about the donut I’d caught him eating on more than one surprise visit.

However, at this moment, none of that mattered. Why? Because Tate the asshole was drunk. The plan had been one drink and then we’d make our excuses so we could go home and have the sex. The sex that I hadn’t had for over three months. The sex that I needed more than I needed to breathe at that moment. The sex that I needed so that the smargles would leave my vagina alone.

Smargles was a great word. Luna had told me about it and now I was going to use it to describe everything. In Harry Potter a character called Luna Lovegood blamed the Nargles for pretty much everything. Our Luna had decided that anything blue was related to a Smurf, and anything that went wrong was down to the Nargles, so anything going badly wrong that involved the color blue was down to the Smargles. It even applied to blue frosting across your face which made it look like a Smurf had just come all over you. It was applicable to a blue ice pop which turned your face the same color. It applied to blue balls and blue vaginas that occurred because of not having the sex.

Smargles!

I had a smargling vagina, and it needed Tate’s smargling balls. And where were those balls? Drunk.

I knew this because of the fabulous text I’d just received and was still staring at.

“Lemme see,” Dahlia snickered, taking the phone out of my hand. Her gasp was proof enough. “Wow, I didn’t know poetry was a talent of his.”

Snatching it back, I typed out a quick reply.

Me: Your smargling balls are dead.

His response was quick.

Taint: I come home for sexy times because my balls love you. I don’t want blue balls anymore.

This was quickly followed by another one.

Taint: If blue balls meet blue vaginas, do they have blue babies? Is our baby gonna look like an Avatar?

“What the hell are they drinking?” Luna asked as she read the screen over my shoulder.

Before I could reply, the other ladies phones started going off too, and one by one the smiles on their faces dropped and I suspect they looked a lot like mine did.

Apparently it wasn’t just me who’d had her plans spoiled.

TateI couldn’t move my tongue. It was stuck to the roof of my mouth and there was no getting it off again. And why the hell did my pec hurt so much?

Rolling over, I came face to face with my cell phone and saw a text message from Lily on the screen waiting for me. It took me five years to raise my hand to pick it up, but I got therein the end. Opening it, I almost screamed when the light on the screen pierced my brain with a billion knives.

Lily: Gone to help Luna with Jamie. Check the texts you sent me.

Scrolling up, I looked at it and groaned.

Roses are red, grass is Greener.

I think of you when I touch my wiener!

(Smiley face, smiley face, winky kissy face and a random tree.)

Before I could text to apologize, another one came through from her.

Lily: You owe me the sex.

Falling onto my back, I tried to remember last night and drew a blank. I remembered having a beer, and then Levi had given me a shot. After that, it was kind of hazy.

Pulling up Levi’s details, I hit call and put it on speakerphone because holding it up was too much effort.

“’Lo?”

He sounded how I felt.

“What happened last night?” I rasped, relieved when my tongue detached itself from where it had been stuck.

“Tequila.”

“But why?”

“Tequila.”

Just the word made my stomach protest violently. “What the hell kind was it?”

“Diablo with a sombrero.”

“I don’t think Lily’s talking to me.”

“Uh, huh?”

“I sent her a poem last night,” I divulged, trying to remember why.

“Ok?”

“’Roses are red, grass is greener. I think of you when I touch my wiener!’ Apparently wasn’t how you told someone how you felt in a drunken text. Who knew?” I shrugged.

“Diablo with a sombrero.”

It was like trying to find clues to the Da Vinci Code talking to him right now, so I hung up and lay staring at the ceiling. When my phone dinged and vibrated on my chest, I picked it back up and groaned.

Lily: Look at your chest.

Looking down, I saw a sticky black mess on it. “What the hell?”

Rubbing it only made it burn, so I lifted my head and looked at it properly. The letters were tattooed pointing the wrong way, so it took a good while to figure out what they were.

yliL

What the shit was yliL?