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The Sinner (The St. Clair Brothers 1)

Page 64

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the empty plates and glasses on the table, I glanced around the bar. Hmph. Not a motherfucking clue where we were. Looked like every other goddamn hotel bar in every other goddamn city.

Must’ve forgot we were on a road trip. I snickered. That was fucking hilarious.

“Where are we again?” I asked, knowing it would make Evvy throw a clot.

“Jesus Christ,” Ev muttered.

Hazey lumbered out of nowhere and thrust a fat finger in my face. “Idiot drunk need go to room to sleep.” The huge goalie turned to Evvy. “You need help getting stupid upstairs?"

I huffed, irritated at that nosy bastard Hazey, getting all up in my busizzz, buiszz, bizzee, bizzou… Fuck! Bizz-ness, dammit! Up in my bizz-ness.

I spun around, and surprise, surprise, tripped over my feet and accidentally elbowed some random dude in the back of the head.

“Watch what you’re doing, asshole,” the dipshit growled from his seat at the nearby table.

Our eyes locked and a slow, evil grin spread across my face. The night just kept getting better and better. Fuck Hazey. I found a bigger, stupider, and way more satisfying target to unload on.

“Well, well, well,” I slurred, drunk as hell and without a single shit to spare. “Sasquatch. How very not nice to see you.” I pretended to look around, then returned my gaze to Calloway and smirked. “Did Mrs. Sasquatch tag along? Or is she spending the week waxing her furry pussy?” Calloway grimaced, looking beyond offended, and I doubled over and laughed until my abs burned and my cheeks ached.

He pushed to his feet and I had to tilt my head back to look at the oversized fucker. “You’re a disgrace, St. Clair.”

I continued to grin as I poked Calloway in the chest with the hand that held my drink. On an extra-exuberant poke, amber liquid sloshed all over his crisp white dress shirt.

“Oops.” I snorted and quickly downed the rest. “Ta-da! No more spills.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

I put the glass on his table and made a talking hand puppet. “Blah, blah, blah. You need to ask Doc about arranging to have that huge stick surgically removed from your ass. It’s probably starting to fossilize up there.”

Calloway’s face turned crimson and the tendons in his neck popped. It was fucking fascinating, like watching a rabid animal in its natural environment. He opened his mouth to say whatever the hell it is that Sasquatches said, when the music blared from his pocket.

“This isn’t over,” Calloway snarled as he yanked his phone out. He stomped off, but didn’t go far enough, because I heard him ask, “Is everything okay?” to the person on the other end.

That was all I caught because Sasquatch had left the building. Er, bar. What(hiccup)ever.

“C’mon, Seb.” Ev grabbed me by the biceps and hauled me toward the elevators.

“Hey. I'm not done. I wanted another.” He ignored my pleas and continued to shove and pull. I tripped several times, twice on my feet, once on someone else’s feet, and once on the carpet, staying upright only because Evvy held tight. “Oh fucking great,” I groaned.

Rocco Calloway stood by the elevators, looking all pissed and Sasquatchy as he waited, phone pressed to his ear. I scowled at the fils bâtard géante d’une putain, then giggled at my own wit.

“That means, giant bastard son of a whore,” I said to Ev, who had no clue what I was talking about.

Calloway’s annoying voice kept interrupting my buzz. “It's fine. I'll be home tomorrow and we can talk about it… Okay, good… Love you, too.” He disconnected the call and stuffed the device back in his pocket.

I leered and shuffled closer. “Mrs. Sasquatch?” I asked with a suggestive waggle of my brows. “Did you ask her about that alpaca pussy of hers?”

Calloway's dark eyes flashed and he gave me that look of his. The one that made me feel like a shitstain on his XXXL briefs. “None of your goddamn business. That's who it was.”

“Sorry, man,” Ev said.

I waved Ev off. “No worries, Evvy.”

Calloway and Ev stared at me like I sprouted a second head.

“He was talking to me, you fucking dipshit,” Calloway said with no shortage of disgust. “Apologizing for your idiot ass acting like a moron.”

I glanced back at Ev, who was shaking his head and staring at the ceiling. Fucking Judas bastard. The elevator dinged and the three of us stepped in. I started to crack a joke about there not being enough room, but as the doors closed a hotel employee with ruddy cheeks and a suitcase in his hand stuck his hand in the way and wedged inside when they popped back open, effectively ruining my plan to both insult Calloway and deck him in the eye socket the second the shiny chrome panels slid shut.



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