“What in the holy hell is that?” Casen exclaims, flinching away from it like it’s some kind of radioactive material. A shit-eating grin inches across Gage’s face. “It’s a thong.” Casen rolls his eyes. “I know that, twat waffle. Why was it in the penalty box?” “Someone put the sin in sin-bin,” Hayes snickers under his breath, leaning on his propped-up stick.
