(Sequel to Two Gangs and a Golden Girl)
***
"If you even think about touching me, I will literally rip off your arm," I growl when Xavier prowls closer. He doesn't stop. His poison green eyes drill into mine.
"I will have you, Marigold, and we will...
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A/N: You're guide top Nessa's accent: Ye = you. Yer = your. Yerself = yourself. Mah = my. Mahself = Myself. Hoose = house. Lad = boy. (I often remove the 'g' in an 'ing' word.) 'er = her. Bloomin' = blooming (it's like saying damn). Jammy = lucky. 'em = them. Don' = don't. Sunava bitch = Son of a bitch. Wasn' = Wasn't. Maw = Mom. Vagina = Fud. Sum = some. Jus' = just.
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When Xavier and the other three lads are off to their mission, I put on a nice fox coat and slip out of Isabella with a set destination in mah head.
I know for sure that the lads will be shootin' and blowin' thin's up and I can't risk mah nails to stop some Southern supply truck. Let the lads play with their guns while I have mah own wee bit of fun.
"Tsk tsk tsk, what have they done to ye?" I ask mah white Porsche. The poor thing took a while to catch 'er breath after this mornin's race.
Nonetheless, I slide into mah car and drive towards the West part of town. I make sure to park a distance away from the hoose Sterling is currently stayin' in. It's pretty posh. No color, but expensive and I fancy mahself some expensive stuff.
I get out of the car and sneak mah way closer to the main gates. I stand there for a minute or two, contemplatin' the risk of gettin' mah coat ruffled if I climb this bloomin' gate. I'm pretty damn jammy when the gates suddenly open, but to avoid the black Bugat-thingy, I have to dive for the bush and hope and pray I'm not spotted.
When I hear the car pass, I immediately jump up and let lose a series of shrieks while I try getting all the leaves and dirt and bugs off of me. "Yer not making yerselves comfortable in mah fur jacket!" I threaten when I'm certain I'm clean again.
The automatic gates start closin' again and I dive to make it through. I send out a quick apology to mah Prada heels for what I'm puttin' 'em through before strutting towards the bleak house like I own the place.
No blue BM-whatever. No black Bugat-thingy. But a silver Lambor-something stands proud in the driveway. Perfect.
I don' go for the front door and instead head towards the back. I pass a swimmin' pool that's big, but still half the size of Isabella's. Up ahead is a glass door, but I ignore it as well and rather make mah way to the very back of the place. When I look up, I see movement comin' from an upstairs room. I look closer and it's Man Candy. Without a shirt.
