Mama’s breath sucked in sharply.
“Oh, shit, sorry!” My eyes went wide, faking unawareness. “But let me ask you this, Mama. Do you like the attention you get when you pretend you gave a shit about your son?”
“You fucking—”
“I trust we’re all getting along nicely?” Crash asked as he came out of the kitchen carrying plates of food.
Mama glared at me, but she didn’t respond. I leant back on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other and swung my foot, smirking back at her.
“Perfectly,” I smiled up at Crash, earning myself a big grin from him. Mama glared even harder as I shot her a wink when Crash looked away from me.
“So easy,” I mouthed the words at her.
“We thought we’d just have wraps tonight, Rachel. Is that good with you? Everything is here. You can just help yourself to whatever you want and make your own.”
“Heavenly,” I breathed, my stomach growling at all the different plates of food on the tray he brought in.
Dante was the first to reach for a plate, handing me an empty tortilla before grabbing one for himself and piling it with chicken and coleslaw.
Mama cleared her throat awkwardly as she reached for the peppers, popping a couple on her wrap.
“Here, let me,” Dante offered as I filled my tortilla and struggled to wrap it. He showed me a technique for getting atight fold, and then winked at me, making my thighs clench before he went back to his own food.
I rested my arm on my knee, still gently swinging my foot as I took a bite of my food, chewing slowly as silence descended upon the room.
“Oh, Crash, I’ve been meaning to thank you,” I said.
“Me? What for?”
“That cream you gave me for my arms is amazing. I had thebestnight's sleep last night.”
He puffed his chest with pride.
All men are the fucking same. Compliment them, and they’re strutting around like fancy little peacocks.
“You’re welcome. It’s what we use in the tattoo studio.”
“Well, kudos to you. You’re a godsend as far as I’m concerned.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but his smile widened even further.
I looked back at Kitty and mouthed once more, “so fucking easy.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, shooting such a venomous glare, I could practically hear her hateful thoughts.
What’s the matter, Kitty? Do you see how easy it is for me to manipulate your old man and get him on my side?
“Eat, Rachel,” Dante muttered in my ear, giving my knee a quick squeeze.
I picked up the wrap he had made for me, and took a huge bite, letting out a loud “mmm,” for Crash’s ego.
And then the silence fell back over the room. The food suddenly became dry as all hell, the tension so thick it was almost tangible.
Crash looked at me, and I gave him a tight smile. He looked at Mama, who was shooting glances at her foot and the closed dining-room door. He then looked at Dante, who was too oblivious to the awkward tension as he chewed on his wrap and scrolled his phone, replying to text messages.
Mama cleared her throat, and I rolled my eyes as she took tiny, pitiful bites of her food.
I leaned forward and put my plate on the table, sounding as loud as a bomb in the quiet room, and dusted my hands off.
