“The blonde? Yeah, once, her pussy was weird.”

“I know. That’s why I fucked her ass,” Nix quips, and they both break out in laughter. “Her mouth wasn’t bad either, but she was a sloppy mouth fuck, gagging like she was about to puke all over me.”

Looking out the tinted window, I try my best to ignore them, which makes Colt only raise his voice.

“Ugh, I did have a chick puke on me once. Maybe I should have stopped fucking her face when she frantically tapped on my leg.”

Now I’m gagging myself just thinking about this. “You can just drop me off here. I’ll walk the rest.” I’m already late anyway.

“What’s up, love bug? Does our sex talk make you uncomfortable?”

“You mean your assault talk? Yeah, I could go without hearing it.”

“Assault?” Nix chuckles. “Girls like getting their faces fucked. They basically beg us to do it. I know this must be unbelievable for a virgin like you.”

“At least my pussy doesn’t feel weird because I let every guy I meet fuck it.”

Colt tsks. “That’s no way to talk about your friend. What would Piper think if she heard you say that about her?”

Just mentioning Piper’s name feels like a sucker punch to the gut. She used to be my best friend. I trusted her with everything, and she turned her back on me like I was nothing. She’s the only one who really hurt me deeply. But the worst part of all is that even now, hearing that the guys hurt her in any way makes me mad. Did she really want it? Or did they take advantage of her? Even after everything she did to me, a part of me still wants to protect her.

“She’s not my friend,” I murmur, more to myself. I have to remind myself of that for my own sanity.

“Sorry, we forgot. You don’t have any friends,” Colt says over his shoulder.

“I’d rather have no friends at all than fake friends.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” Nix chuckles. “Did you bring a change of clothes, or is that really what you’re wearing to your interview?”

Scrunching my nose, I look down at my skinny jeans and tank top. It’s nothing fancy, but there is also nothing wrong with it. It’s clean without holes in it. I could use some new sneakers, but I wasn’t gonna spend my last money on shoes.

“I’m interviewing at a pizza parlor, not a law firm.”

Finally, we pull up to a strip mall, and the sign above the shop is like a welcoming beacon.

“Good luck,” Nix mutters, snickering, and his brother joins him while I scramble out of the truck. The sooner I’m away from them, the better.