“No. Because when any of you fucks want something from me, it’s shit like this. Because you can’t handle it yourself. Camitro, give me time to handle my uncle and cousin, and Billy? Maybe if you stuck to your fucking wedding vows, you wouldn’t have an issue.”

“She! She is going to talk, Lala!” Billy shoots up from his chair, and as soon as he says the words, I stop my movements.

Turning around again, I close in on him. “You dumb fuck. This is why you don’t stray from your fucking commandments!” My voice has bite at the end, but I spin his chair around until he’s facing me. “Maybe I should just whack you off, hmm? Rip the root out of the ground that’s causing the problem.”

“I’m sorry. I know, I know, but she found texts on my phone and evidence, Lala! She is going—” My fingers wrap around his throat and I squeeze slightly. Just enough to feel his throat crunch beneath my hand.

Leaning down, I bring my lips to his ear. “You’re going to be buried right beside your mistress.” I shove him back and leave the room, wiping my hands down on my suit pants.

“You a’ight?” Val asks from behind, handing me my packet of cigarettes. Eyes all shift to us as we make our way back through the casino, no doubt with Billy looking disgruntled not far behind us.

“No.” I snatch the packet off him and continue until we’re back at the lobby and outside, waiting for my car.

“You want me to take you somewhere?”

I blow out a cloud of smoke, watching as it thickens against the cool air. “Not tonight.” Tonight I need a fucking drink, a cheeseburger, and my best friend to calm me down before Wolf wakes in the morning. Nothing to do with dick.

I walk into the house, dropping my keys into the stone bowl near the front door and removing my jacket. Slipping off my shoes, I carry the brown paper bag into the sitting room, where Betty is relaxing, reading a book.

“You know, if half of these characters actually just sat down and spoke to one another, there would be no mystery to crime.”

I drop the bag onto the coffee table as she squeezes her book between the couch and grabs a bottle of tequila from the bar cart near the bookshelf. It’s cold outside since we’re moving into Christmas, but the house is always warm because of the multiple fires and heat systems. I need it. I’d cry if not.

Betty places two glasses on the coffee table beside an ice bucket and a bottle of tequila. “Wanna talk about it?”