My phone chimed, interrupting our conversation. I was thankful. Until I saw the picture. I gasped and turned my phone into my leg.
“What was that?” Oliver asked and tried to steal the phone from my hand.
“Nothing! It’s nothing!”
I did my best to keep my phone out of Oliver’s grasp, but London was quicker, stealing my cell right from under my nose.
“London, don’t! It isn’t for your eyes.” The venom that spewed from my lips shocked me. I never got upset with them, but this was crossing the line.
London handed the phone back to me, and I tucked it in my purse. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“I’m not. Was that a dick pic? Girl, you better give me something to go on. I’m living vicariously through you.” Oliver fanned himself. He was so dramatic.
“Just something. Anything,” London said.
“Fuck that. Don’t listen to her. Tell us everything. Was he good? Was it big? Was it sweaty? Or was it all just a major disappointment? Oh, honey, it was, wasn’t it.” He looked at me sadly and patted the top of my hand. “They can’t look good and be good and have a bat between their legs. It just doesn’t happen.”
“Oh, it happened,” I mumbled at the rim of my coffee cup, and Oliver nearly jumped out of his seat.
“More, tell us more.
“You are such a gossip, Oliver,” London said with a roll of her eyes and a flip of her hair.
“Oh, shut it. Like you don’t want to know,” he sassed, then dropped his chin in his hand, and his eyes sparkled with mischief as he smiled at me. “Okay, I’m ready.”
I guess I could tell them something. “It was amazing. Perfection. So good,” I nearly moaned, and then bit my cheek to stop it. “And Oliver? He’s big. He has a bat.”
He leaned back and scoffed. “That is just unfair and cruel. You aren’t allowed to talk about him to us anymore. Not when some of us are in a permanent dry spell. I’m so jealous, but tell me more.”
I tossed my head back and laughed at his indecision. I wasn’t going to tell them any more than that. No matter how hard they pried.
“Hey, look. They released a photo of the guy that escaped the prison.” London pushed her phone in the middle of the table, and my stomach turned. I dropped the coffee that was in my hand, and the paper cup fell on the floor.
“Holy. Shit. That creep!” Oliver shouted.
“What?” London asked. “He does look creepy, right? It’s the burn on the side of his face. No, that isn’t it. It’s the eyes. They look cold.”
“We saw him,” I said.
“Saw him? Girl, he talked to you! He said he would see you around. We need to tell the police.”
I nodded because he was right. I couldn’t believe we didn’t put this together sooner. “Oh my god,” I cupped my mouth when the horror of what I did made guilt poison me. “I lead him straight to Kathy’s. He asked. I pointed him in the right direction. They are dead because of me.”
“Aw, honey, no, he preyed on you. He would have found Kathy’s anyway. With or without you.” Oliver held me as I cried. I felt like it was all my fault. I should have gone straight to the cops when they burned down after a stranger asked for directions, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Why was I so obtuse sometimes? “It’s okay. They are going to find him, but we have to call the Camden PD, okay?”
I nodded, pulled away, reached for my black and white purse, and unzipped the gold zipper. I pulled out my phone and turned the screen back on, forgetting that Easton
’s dick pic took up the entire screen.
And this time, London and Oliver could see it.
“Oh!” London turned away, but Oliver leaned in.
“Oh, is right! My darling, oh my gawd. He does have a bat.”
I pulled the phone to my chest, mortified, and hoped like hell Easton would forgive me.
“Our little secret,” Oliver winked. “I know one of them has to be gay. It just… please gawd,” he prayed as he looked up toward the ceiling, lifting his hand to his chest.