I take a deep breath. The irritation in my chest slowly turning to affection for these two knuckleheads. Thankfully they seem to have repaired their relationship and things have returned to normal. A little murder always speeds up the healing process between brothers.
“God help you,” Z mutters, squeezing my shoulder.
Grinder lifts his chin. “The same Carla I’m thinking of?”
“Unfortunately,” I answer.
He rubs his palms together. “Been itching to give that bitch some choice words for years.”
“Do it after her husband stitches everyone up,” I warn him.
“She found some other poor sucker to irritate to death?”
I sigh, both bored and annoyed with the subject of my ex-wife. “Yes. If we’re done rehashing ancient history, I’d like to head back to the clubhouse for a shower.” Last thing I want to do is take the filth of the night into the home I share with Hope and Grace.