Page 48 of Devil’s Disciples

“Ditto.”

She looked at me. I stroked my beard, gave a crisp nod, and grinned. “Same. Thank you.”

“I’ll follow suit,” Cash said.

“I’ll have the same,” Tito said. “No horseradish, though. Thanks.”

Cash leaned onto the edge of the table and cleared his throat.

Tito shifted his eyes from the waitress to Cash. “What?”

Cash glared. “You know the rule.”

Tito turned up his palms. “It’s a condiment, and I don’t eat the shit.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said flatly. “Leave it on your plate. But, we’re all served the same.”

“Alright,” Tito said. “Horseradish it is.”

Beside the meal, another ritual – or rule – was that we did not discuss our jobs in public. Ever. We made our plans in the office or the clubhouse, and that was it.

No exceptions.

The group meal was a time to relax, get our heads straight, and nourish our bodies.

Cash shook a toothpick out of the holder and clenched it between his teeth. “Bake’s fucking a Brazilian chick.” He glanced at each of the men. “Got a twat the size of a dime, and an ass the size of Alaska.”

I gave him a side-eyed look. “You dumb fuck.”

He fixed his eyes on Ghost. “True story. Say’s she’s got voodoo pussy. Ever heard that one? Voodoo pussy?”

“Had a chick in Japan once,” Reno said. “Had wide hips and a snapper so small she squealed when I put my finger in it.”

“What’d she do when you fucked her?” Cash asked.

“Grunted a lot and cried a little.”

Cash pulled the toothpick from his mouth. “Cried?”

Reno nodded. “Tears ran down her cheeks. Every time. She loved it, though.”

Cash looked at me. “Does your girl cry?”

I lowered my chin and glared. “Change the subject.”

“Our superstitious Prez slipped off the edge of the celibacy cliff?” Ghost chuckled. “Tell us about voodoo pussy.”

Pussy made a man weak. That was my claim, at least. When a man gets wrapped up in fucking a woman, emotions get in the way. Eventually, the small head begins to make the decisions. Undoubtedly, the day comes when the man looks around him and realizes his life – and everything in it – has changed. My fear of change caused the men to view me as superstitious.

I gave Cash a dose of stink eye, and then looked at Ghost. “I’m not fucking her. I fucked her. Past tense. She had a tight pussy. Deep and tight. That’s pretty much it.”

“Tell ‘em what you called it,” Cash spouted. “Called it voodoo pussy, didn’t ya?”

Ghost cracked his knuckles and then grinned a sly grin. “Well? Did ya?”

I massaged my temples with the tips of my fingers. I’d always thought with my big head, not my little one. In fact, my dick never made decisions for me. Somehow, with Andy, my cock became the decision maker. Now, with ten eyes staring back at me in wait of an answer, I began to fill with regret.

“I did.”