RIOT HOUSE (Crooked Sinners #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,28
that. You didn’t make a fool of yourself, okay. You trusted someone who lied to you and broke your heart. That reflects poorly on him, not you. At some point karma’s gonna come along and render him infertile as punishment.”
“Jesus. I really hope not.”
Goddamnit, what the hell is it with these boys, sneaking up on people? I should have been paying attention to Dashiell’s precise whereabouts, especially since we’re talking about him, but I dropped the damn ball. Dressed like he’s off to watch a polo match, the smug motherfucker leans up against the counter, popping a toothpick into his mouth as he glances from me to Carina. His gaze settles on her, full of contradicting emotions. For a second, I think he looks remorseful, but then I see the cruel delight flickering in his blue eyes, and I want to leap up out of my seat and kick the fucker right in the kneecap.
“Can you kindly fuck off,” I hiss. “This is a private conversation. You’re not welcome at this table.”
Dashiell looks to his left and then to his right, his eyebrows hiking up to his hairline. “Sorry, mon amour. I’m over here at the counter, minding my business. What fault is it of mine if you’re talking loud enough to wake a dead man and give him a hard on? I heard something about Amalie Gibbons on her knees with someone’s dick in her mouth and I lost all sense of propriety. And then…” He laughs, holding up a finger, “…and then, I remembered that I had Amalie Gibbons on her knees and my dick was in her mouth, and things just got really messy. Because that was a really fun time, girls. A really fun time. I am sad you don’t want to play with me anymore, though, Carrie. I guess I should have said I was sorry or something. Better late than never, though, right?”
Ho-ly shit. The stones on this prick.
Jazzy arrives with our drinks at the worst possible moment. She hums under her breath, swaying from side to side as she sets Carina’s coffee down in front of her and then arranges my tea paraphernalia for me. Her smile disappears when she sees that Carina’s been crying and her cheeks are still wet. “What in god’s name…” She looks at me like I’m responsible for her friend’s distress, but then she sees Dashiell loitering by the counter and her expression darkens. “Oh no. No, no, no. I don’t know who you are or what your name is, boy, but you better be outta my sight in two seconds flat or you are gonna wish you had never been born.”
Dashiell nearly purrs. “Ma’am, I am a nihilist. I don’t really care if I live or I die. Mustering up the amount of energy it would require to wish I’d never been born is very unlikely on my part. I commend the rousing speech, though. Can I get a wet cappuccino when you have a second?”
Jazzy just stares at him. “Boy, you musta got knocked on the head when you was a child. You ain’t getting no wet nothin.’ Now get the fuck outta here before I call the cops on your ass.”
I admire Jazzy’s tenacity. She’s a waitress in a small-town diner, probably scraping by on minimum wage. She knows Dashiell’s a Wolf Hall student. She must know that, with one call from Dashiell to his father, Screamin’ Beans will have been bought out and shut down before she can even aim a kick in the spoiled bastard’s pants. Still, she speaks her mind; she won’t let herself be cowed by him. A brave woman, indeed.
Dashiell grins. It’s unsettling, that grin. It makes me want to duck for cover. “You remind me of my grandmother. I didn’t like her very much. She was a very outspoken woman.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, shoving away from the counter. “I’ll honor your request and make myself scarce. My friends might order a to-go for me, though. I’d appreciate it if you kept the saliva to a minimum. There’s a love.” He stalks off without acknowledging Carina again.
“That smug little piece of shit. I’m betting he never had his hide tanned for him. I oughta do him a favor and put him over my knee. Wallop the shit out of him on account’a that smart ass mouth of his.”
“I wouldn’t, Jazz,” Carina says morosely. “He’d only enjoy it.”
An hour later, after we’ve picked over our meals and