Page 134 of Ruptured

Fuck, fuck, and motherfuck. He hoped Symphony wasn’t Torie 2.0.

“It’s not only because of Bailey,” he admitted, switching gears back toherand changing his reasons for that, too. “It’s because of you, too.”

“Me? But—”

“Youtwentyyears old, Symphony. Even if I was free, you deserve better than a forty-seven-year-old motherfucker with three kids. We don’t have anything in common, baby. The only thing you can do for me is give me pussy. And that’s disrespect at the highest fucking level. You so fucking gorgeous. But you young enough to be my daughter. If Harley told me some old motherfucker was after her…Never mind. I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Okay,” she said hoarsely.

“Symphony!” Tee called from the kitchen window. “Customers complaining you ignoring them. If you don’t want to be fired without pay, stop fucking around with—”

Mortician slid out of his booth and stood next to Symphony, glaring at Tee.

“Oh. Uh, I didn’t know it was you, Mort.” He disappeared.

Symphony’s eyes rounded.

“Go do your fucking job, baby, before I got to beat a motherfucker’s ass.”

“Who you in here intimidating now, Mort?” Digger asked, smiling at Symphony and checking her out.

Grinning, she scampered to one of her disgruntled customers.

Digger’s gaze followed her every step of the way.

Mortician smacked the side of his brother’s head. “Sit the fuck down and stop ogling the woman.”

“Fuck, she got an ogling outfit on, Mort,” Digger grumped, sliding into the seat across from Mortician’s. “Hey, Symph!” he called. “I need to order.”

“Shut the fuck up and wait,” Mort said, glad for the diversion of his brother. “She got other tables. We got to talking and it pissed Tee off. She’ll be back.”

Grabbing Mortician’s nearly empty bottle of beer, Digger drained it then gave him a calculating look. “She your new fuck buddy?”

“No.” Mort released a long breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t want a fuck buddy. I want to fix my marriage.”

“That’s why you moved to the fucking club, huh, bruh?”

“Fuck you.”

“Can’t fix your marriage on your own,” Digger said, unfazed by Mort’s irritation. “Why not get relief in that beautiful young piece of ass?”

Glaring at him, Mort folded his arms. “Tell me something, motherfucker.”

“Something.”

“I’m a second from knocking you the fuck out. My nerves rubbed fucking raw. It’s fucking killing me how close I came to betraying Bailey. But Symphony too fucking young for me.”

“I disagree.”

“Tell me,” he gritted. “If you and Bunny was having the type of problems me and Bailey are, wouldyoufuck another woman?”

“If my marriage was almost headed to divorce court, fuck yeah. Then I’d let her know my cock found another home, so she’d understand she not the fucking end of the world.”

“You’d still be betraying your vows.”

“Vows not worth shit if you’re about to divorce, Mort.”

Another one down. Bailey had all types of conditions to save their marriage and Digger sounded as if he’d already given up hope that her and Mort would work things out. Holding out hope amid such hopelessness wore on him, but it pissed him the fuck off that Digger couldn’ttryto cheer him up.