The man paled slightly, making the tattoo on his neck stand out even more starkly against his skin. His eyes cut to Gwen, widened, then moved to his ginormous brother. “Fuck. Is it her, Nick?”
“Knew she looked fuckin’ familiar,” the bigger brother growled. “Last thing we need is Graves on our ass again. We only just got done with that clusterfuck Mickey started…”
Neck-tattoo looked at Georgia, lip curling in distaste. “You miserable cunt, you’ve been nothing but a pain in our fuckin’ asses since the day Donny dragged you home.”
“Don’t call Gigi a cunt!” I snapped, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t talk to her at all, in fact! If you have something to say, you can say it to me. Or, preferably, don’t say it at all. No one gives a single shit what you or the genetic anomalies you call brothers have to say.”
“Don’t recall talkin’ to you.” He leaned close, dark eyes flashing. His lips were twisted in a cruel smile as he added, “Cunt.”
Florence gasped. Her lips parted, but the sound never reached my ears. This was because, at that exact moment, the door behind us swung open.
Agatha and Sally flounced through it.
Shit.
In the dingy bar, they were admittedly an incongruous sight. Between the hair rollers, the nightgown, and the fuzzy bunny slippers…
My teeth sank into my lip, holding in a laugh. Or a scream. I couldn’t quite decide.
“What the fuck?” Nick hissed, reeling back. “Who invited the geezers?”
“Old folks’ home is down the road,” Shane added, brows furrowing. “Though from the looks of you two, would save time to head right to the funeral parlor next door.”
All hell promptly broke loose again. We all started shouting at once.
“Don’t you talk to Agatha and Sally like that!” (Gwen.)
“Don’t you talk to themat all, you cretins!” (Me.)
“I’ll take you down again, asshole! Just try me!” (Flo.)
“Your mother would be ashamed of you!” (Gigi.)
Then, Sally and Agatha joined the fray, chatting amicably as they approached.
“You call this a bar? I’ve seen toilet bowls cleaner than this place!” (Agatha.)
“We may not have much longer to live, but I sure hope we’re here long enough to see it condemned by the city!” (Sally.)
The O’Banion brothers looked at one another in confusion.
I fought the insane urge to giggle.
“Oh! Maybe they’ll turn it into a Trader Joe’s.” (Agatha.)
“IloveTrader Joe’s. They sell a great frozen cheesecake. Not as good as mine, but then… Whose is?” (Sally.)
“ENOUGH!”
This was a new voice. One we hadn’t heard before. It came from the doorway and, automatically, we all turned toward that direction. I was stunned to see the Graves twins, Holden and Hunter, standing two steps inside the frame. They were both dressed in all black, from their boots to their leather jackets. And they didnotlook happy. In fact, if their inky blue eyes were anything to go by, they were aggressivelyunhappy.
This may or may not have had something to do with the ice on Gwen’s rapidly reddening cheek.
“Thought we taught you this lesson already,” Holden — actually, it might’ve been Hunter, I couldn’t yet tell them apart — growled, lethal gaze locked on Shane and Nick. “You put your hands on a woman, there are consequences.”
“Time for a refresher course,” Hunter (Holden?) added.
“No one invited her here,” Shane spat, crossing his beefy arms over his chest. “She walked in and picked a fight.”