“Never thought I’d see the day where Winston lets a bird peck at his head,” Perry says with great amusement. “This is hilarious.”
I flip him off and then pull the bird off my shoulder. After stroking his little head, I tell him to leave me alone. Shrimp sings and then flaps all the way up to my chandelier, otherwise known as his damn playground.
“I’m being serious,” I say again to Perry. “Mother meddles too much. I can handle my own shit.”
“What exactly are you handling?” Ash asks, frowning at me.
“Those bastards.”
“How?” Her hazel eyes flash with fury. Not at me. At them. She wants to make them pay. Well, that makes two of us.
“In ways that’ll hurt. In ways their mommy can’t buy their way out of.”
“Do I want to know?” she asks.
“It’s probably best if you don’t. Plausible deniability.”
Plus, Ash doesn’t have a poker face. I don’t need her getting her own ass in trouble because she wears her thoughts for all to see.
“Where does your father stand in all of this?” I run my finger down the length of her arm, enjoying the way she shivers, completely forgetting we have a baby Constantine audience until Keaton sniggers.
“Dad is livid,” she says with a sigh. “He said that if Manda chooses the triplets side on this, he’ll be forced to choose mine.” She leans her head on my shoulder. “I hate that he’s even put in this position.”
I don’t remind her that he got himself there in the first place by pursuing the damn woman.
“Hmm,” is all I say.
“That’s the hmm that means people will suffer,” Perry reveals a little too gleefully.
“Fuck off.”
“Usually it’s me he’s punishing,” Ash tattles. “It’s about time he let me on Team Constantine.”
“You’re not on the team,” I mutter.
“Kinda,” she argues to which Tinsley laughs.
“You’re like the bat boy. But with tits.”
She smacks me. “More like the mascot.”
“Since when did the Constantine mascot turn into a poor maid who fishes for compliments?”
“Since now.” Ash smirks at me. “Or I could be the cheerleader.”
A wolfish grin splits my face. “I’m okay with that.”
“I’m sure I have some cheerleader uniforms in the back seat of my car,” Perry offers, waggling his brows like he’s the shit.
Keaton snorts out a laugh. “That makes you sound like a pervert.”
“I am a pervert.”
Me and Ash both laugh. The only real perverts in this room are the two of us. The little Constantines are just wannabe perverts.
“Okay, assholes,” I grunt, rising to my feet with Ash still in my arms. “Go home to your mommy. I have much-needed sleep to catch up on.”
“She’s your mommy too, dumbass,” Perry throws back.
I ignore him and carry Ash into her room, kicking the door shut behind us. She sticks her tongue out at me when I unceremoniously drop her onto the bed. While she scoots under the covers, I shed out of my suit down to my boxers, following her into the bed.
“Where’s my damn coupon?” I ask, hauling her to my chest so I can inhale her hair.
“The cuddle coupon that you already used?”
“That’s the one.”
“You can’t use it again. That’s not how coupons work.”
I kiss her neck. “Then how much does this thing we’re doing cost?”
She lets out a sigh. “It’s free. Consider it a handout for the needy boy.”
“Brat.”
“You like it when I’m bratty.”
Indeed, I do.
The apartment grows quiet, which means my siblings left. Even Shrimp is being quiet. My eyes drift closed as sleep overtakes me. I’m tired as fuck and jetlagged. It’s late morning but it may as well be two a.m. for how exhausted I am.
“Win?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you.”
“You’re sappy when you’re sad,” I remark, my voice thick with sleep.
“I’m not sad anymore.” A beat of silence and then she speaks again. “Goodnight, Constantine.”
“It’s morning, Cinderelliott.”
“Still good.”
“Hmph. That’s a stretch.”
“It’s good now,” she amends.
I can’t argue with that.
20
Ash
I set my phone down, still smiling from Winston’s last text, so I can pull my hair into a ponytail. We’ve been teasing back and forth in between his meetings this morning. Apparently, something big went down with one of his clients in Paris, and he’s been doing damage control ever since. Where I was exhausted this morning after the hellacious weekend I had, Win was fresh-faced and ready to work come Monday morning. I’d tried to find the motivation to go to work, but he shut it down and told me to take the day off.
My phone continues to buzz with texts. Once my hair is fixed, I pick it back up to see what else the dirty boy has to say.
I deflate at seeing Dad’s text.
Dad: Come home, honey. Manda and the boys aren’t here. It’s safe now.
It’s been one variation or another of this since the triplets were arrested on Saturday night. I understand Dad is worried about me, but I don’t feel as though he did his best to protect me from them. He let his guard down, and they swooped in.