The Consequence of Revenge

Page 64

“When have I ever needed to use pharmaceuticals in the bedroom?” I squinted. “Furthermore, if we’re laying our cards all out on the table, between the two of us, who do you think’s going to need help getting it up during future . . . activities?”

“Please.” Reid rolled his eyes.

“Grandma.”

“Shut up. I hate you!” Reid pushed against me and whispered under his breath toward his . . . manhood, “He didn’t mean it.”

“You talk to your penis now? Things that bad that you need to verbally affirm your man parts so that they don’t have to wither and fall off when I speak her name?”

Reid glared. “Speaking of parts withering off.”

Jason approached and slapped Reid on the back. “Whose parts are withering off?”

“Colt’s,” I said, not missing a beat. “On account he’s nailing your sister every night.”

“Low blow,” Reid whispered.

“Ah, blow.” I grinned.

“I’m sorry I walked over here,” Jason grumbled.

We started walking toward the breakfast hut. Reid wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “You get to hang out with five pretty girls today and, no worries, they’re hand-picked so you’re going to have a wonderful time.”

“Is it just me?” I shrugged out of his hold. “Or does wonderful sound more like terrible coming from your mouth? It was like you hissed it, you slut.”

“Self-proclaimed reformed slut,” Jason piped up. “And Reid’s right, some of the girls are nice.”

“How’s your thumb?” I asked.

Jason winced and squeezed his hand. “A bit sore.”

“She’s a strong one.”

“I imagine she ties people to bedposts and has her way with them and then gives them Advil afterwards or maybe even a shot of morphine. Really it’s a toss-up, and with my background? Bound to happen, which is why I’m carrying Mace.” Jason patted his pocket. “No chick’s going to surprise me and I won’t have to worry about, shit, I don’t even remember her name.”

“Ah, no worries, I have nicknames for them all.”

Reid and Jason stopped walking.

“What?” I threw up my hands. “Do you really expect me to remember all their names? It’s so much easier using words like Minion, Grumpy, and—”

“Ah.” They nodded in unison and pointed at the two girls I was talking about.

“Damn it, those overalls need to be burned.” I sighed and kept walking with them.

“Surprise!” A girl popped out from one of the trees.

I was fast enough to have stopped Jason from making an epic mistake; instead I watched, because, well, I was a huge fan of self-destruction and Jason was always the main attraction in that department. I even mom-armed Reid so I could see better.

In slow motion Jason yelled, “Aghhhh.” It was gurgled, which I could only assume meant he’d choked a bit on his spit out of terror. It was terror spit. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Mace and sprayed.

Sure I could have stopped him.

I could have pushed him out of harm’s way.

Hell, I could have yelled.

Instead I groaned, and smirked, as Jason sprayed himself in the face.

“Well, that’s one way to do it, I guess.” Reid snickered.

Jason, now just discovering the pitfalls of panic and why rape whistles are always a better alternative, fell to his knees looking much like Russell Crowe in Gladiator after his final kill.

“Nooooo!”

I felt like jumping up and down and screaming, “Are you not entertained?”

But I restrained myself.

Mostly because I didn’t want to look like an insensitive ass; well, because of that and the fact that I was pretty sure most chicks wouldn’t get the movie reference.

“Reid”—I pointed at Jason—“cold water and towels, stat!”

“Ohhh, did you train to be a doctor?” Minion clapped her hands.

“Yes,” I said through clenched teeth. “It goes really well with a poli-sci degree.”

She giggled.

And I sighed as I saw a brain cell fall out of her ear, give me a hopeless look, and combust.

“My eyes!” Jason screamed. “Hell, that hurts!”

“Can I help?” Minion got closer.

“Er, yeah.” I licked my lips. “Why don’t you go try to find us some Acidifalide. Do you think you can remember that? It takes the sting away.”

“Acidifalide. Got it!” She ran off, zigzagging like someone was shooting at her and she was escaping. Clearly she was confusing her self-defense classes with first aid.

“Max, no chance in hell am I putting Acidifalide in my eyes! Dude, the first syllable of that word is acid!”

I smacked him on the back of his head. “You try thinking of a fake drug on the spot!”

“Oh.” He tried sitting up. “It’s not real.”

“I hope not.” I shuddered. “Because if she finds it, good luck prying yourself away from her.”

“Thanks,” he said through clenched teeth just as Reid returned with some cold water and rags.

“Here.” I dipped the rags in the cold water and slammed one on Jason’s face. “So maybe next time, look before you spray.”

“Like a dog.” Reid nodded helpfully. “They always look before they lift; it’s just common sense, man.”

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