“I ain’t going to your school, lady.”
“Why not?” She was genuinely curious. Ceinwyn Dale, always the interested observer.
“I’m not a freak. I get by. I got a life. So I fight, who gives a rat’s ***?”
She picked up my iPod and browsed through the playlist. She had beautiful hands. Not a body part most guys notice, and Ceinwyn Dale had some others that were pretty noticeable, but her delicate fingers and sapphire fingernails drew the eye when she used them in front of you. Nimble manipulation, just like the rest of her, turning those fleshy stubs into the finest tool, skinny and elegant. “Is this the entirety of your reasons?
“I got a girl.”
“And you love her?” The smile quirked extra.
“Sure. I guess.” Love wasn’t a big emotion in the Price household. We had trouble managing giving a ****.
“Or do you just like what you get to do with her?”
“That too.”
One part about Ceinwyn Dale I started figuring out during that first conversation is she mocks everyone but she treats her kids the same as she does adults. Which I wasn’t seeing much of back then. It was inclusive and part of the reason she’s such a good recruiter.
“You’ll have to give her up.”
Read more on Ceinwyn Dale in The Foul Mouth and the Fanged Lady by Richard Raley: available on Amazon and Smashwords and Nook. Or just type "Foul Mouth" into your Kindle...they'll know what you're talking about.
No comments:
Post a Comment