Conrad’s eyes jerked to Mickey. Then he jerked them right back to me. “You share any of the dirt you dug up on me with our children—” “I could bang my chest and drag you to your truck by your throat,” Mickey suggested and Conrad’s eyes flew back to him. “That way, you might get me.” “You touch me, I press charges,” he warned. Mickey looked down at me. “I feel some grunts comin’ on. You wanna go get my club?” I started giggling. “Fuck you,” Conrad spat. Mickey looked to him and lifted his brows. “Now who’s cursing?”
