Page 54 of Kai
Cherished.
It’s the kind of touch that's impossible to misinterpret—and I realize something terrifying.
For the first time all week, I don't entirely hate this plan.
And if I’m not careful, I might end up convincing myself this little charade is real.
Nine
Kai
Holy shit.
I had no idea Bingo could be this violent.
Okay, okay.
So it’s not actual violence.
Mostly.
But the verbal sparring? Intense.
And Mr. Carlson did get bopped on the head by Mrs. Liebowitz with her lucky troll doll when he knocked over her dish of butterscotch candies.
Delicious, by the way.
But if somebody ever wants to make a documentary about organized crime hiding behind church fundraisers, I know exactly where to start.
“B-12!”
A chorus of groans erupts from the crowd.
Mrs. Russo slams her dauber onto the table.
“Of course he calls B-12. I needed B-11!”
Across the room, Mr. Lombardi pumps a fist.
“Yes!”
“You hush,” Mrs. Russo snaps.
“I'm winning fair and square.”
“Nothing about you is fair and square. Especially not your butt!”
The entire table erupts in laughter.
I lean against the microphone stand and grin.
“Easy there, ladies and gents. Wowza!” I chuckle. “You people are savages.”
“We're retired,” Mr. Lombardi says. “We got time to hold grudges.”
The room explodes again.
Even I can't help laughing.
