“No, she doesn’t. I asked her.”

“Are you even on your period?”

I sighed, noticing Tessa leaning into me and listening to our discussion with a huge grin on her face.

“Just forget about it,” I told him. “I’ll go with Darcy and Tessa to the shops tomorrow and grab some.”

“You aren’t going alone with them old ladies. You can take Russo with you. And Vince. And Broom, too. Hell, I’ll just go with you.”

I sighed again. He always had a Jackal or two stalking us when, if ever, we left the compound. That was a rarity, though. “Alright, Remy. Fine.”

“Anything else you wanted?”

“Cereal.”

“That nasty rainbow shit you eat?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Alright. Be there soon.”

“Okay, bye.”

He hung up. I used to think it was rude he never said good bye at the end of a call. Then I realized that was just another Remy thing, and there were a lot of Remy things.

“You got that man wrapped around your little finger,” Tessa smiled. “Never seen him act like this since… well, never. Do you have rainbows coming out of your vagina or something?”

I screwed up my face at her. “Really, Tessa?”

“You must! I mean, he’s never, ever, ever, ever, ever slowed down with a woman before. Ever. Never ever–”

“I get it. Never.”

“Yeah, which means you must be the lay of his life.”

I laughed weakly with her. There was no way I was going to admit that in actuality I certainly was not the lay of his life because we’d never fucked or even gotten passed the make out stage. I wasn’t sure when I’d be ready for it either. Sure, my body wanted it whenever he kissed the hell out of me – and God, that man could kiss – but my heart was protesting with full force, and I was listening to it for once.

“Edge is still staring at you,” she muttered.

I glanced at Edge, and my cheeks went crimson when I caught his eyes. He was terrifying. I’d rather be looking into the eyes of a lion. I looked away quickly and went off again in search of Mathew and Jake. Those boys would forever keep me moving, and that’s exactly what I needed right now.

*****

“Why don’t you wear shit like them, Sara-bara?” Logan asked me a while later after the boys were ushered off to bed. Logan motioned to the hangaround hos that were currently intoxicated and dancing sloppily to the music. They were also barely wearing anything at all and must have been a part of the same “desperate for a Jackal, will dress slutty” groupie club because they had the same kind of clothes on: leather, skin tight skirts that reached the bottom of their ass cheeks, and loose, billowy singlets with their bras pushed all the way up to their friggin’ chins.

“My hooker days are over, Logan,” I told him dryly.

He laughed and then his face went still. “You were a hooker?” Logan was… not the brightest crayon in the box. Couldn’t decipher the ABC’s if his life depended on it and never caught on to sarcasm of any kind. His mind was always wandering. I chalked it up to the fact he was a young guy only thinking with his dick. He was always rooting around with girls, and they loved Logan. He was a beautiful looking guy – kinda too pretty for my type – and never played hard to get.

“Yeah, I was a total hooker,” I lied, fighting a smile.

Now curiosity filled him. “What kind of shit did you do?”

“What do hookers do, Logan? Come on now.”

“But like… you’re not a hooker-type. You’re more an escort-type. Is that what you were? An escort?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling cruel for feeding his fantasy. “Oh, yeah. Totally.”

“Did you do crazy shit?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you for fucking real?”

“So for real.”

His green eyes gleamed with fascination. “Do you still–”

“No.”

“But would you–”

“No.”

“But we could–”

“No.”

He exhaled in frustration. “Fine! Have fun with Reaper instead. The Logan train is moving on forever, Sara-bara.” He stalked off, glaring at me with the kind of petulance I’d seen in kids like Jake. Minutes later and he was immersed with two women, ready to let them on his Logan train no doubt. Chugga-chugga-ho-ho.

I made my way to the bar where Wilson was serving up drinks.

“Sara!” he greeted me with his warm smile. “Wanna hear a joke?”

I sighed. “Not right now, Wilson. I’d like to keep my food in my stomach, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. What do you wanna drink?”

I kept it strictly to beer. There was no way I was going to get drunk around new Jackals, especially when they were rowdily making their rounds from woman to woman. I needed to be sure on my feet. I didn’t have Remy to hide behind, and I felt a weird pang at that. Even after all this time since the bunker I was unsure how to act on my own without him there to guide me.

When I took my bottle of beer, I watched Wilson go from happy to seething, hurrying to Tessa and arguing about her state of undress. I turned away from the bar and went smack dab into a massive wall of a chest. I looked up and stifled a gasp when I made contact with the lightest brown eyes I’d ever seen. They belonged to Edge, and they were intimidating as hell.

“I want you in the hallway, stomach against the wall, ass out,” he ordered me in his deep, growl-like voice.

I stood still for a second. His words hadn’t gotten through to me yet. I repeated them inside of my head for about a dozen times and–

“Now,” he demanded, nose flaring as if I was pissing him off.

In the hall. Stomach against the wall. Ass… out.

I burst out laughing, and this was majorly uncharacteristic of me. I should have slapped him. Cursed at him. Hell, I should have kneed him in the balls.

“Something funny?”

I laughed harder and stifled out, “You’re shitting me right?”

Now he looked damn offended. “No, I’m not shitting you.”

I pointed to the crowd of women taking centre stage in the room, overly grinding their bodies against each other. “Go ask one of those girls. I’m sure they’d lick you up top to bottom.” And they would. His bad-assed look won brownie points in my Jackal book.