“Your dad sleeping?” I ask, permitting Vivian to run her palms up and down my chest needily as I exhale the hit I took off my joint.
“Yeah,” she says mischievously. “But you know he’s a heavy sleeper. He won’t hear us.”
I’m counting on it.
I’m not here to reminisce about our fucked-up relationship or the simple fact I’m here because I need to blow off some steam. I knocked on Vivian’s window because I know Muncy locks his house up like Fort Knox, and I wasn’t looking to set off any alarms.
Vivian did it for me when she held an index finger up for me to wait, then proceeded to let me in. It’s the oldest play in the book. I just didn’t think my body would keep crawling the way it is with the way Vivian won’t keep her fucking hands off me.
I point at her door. “I’m going to go grab something to drink.”
I’m not able to even take a step before Vivian’s in my way, blocking my path so I can get into Muncy’s room and delete the evidence of Bay’s killer photo.
“How are you here?” Vivian asks, a twinge of suspicion laced in her tone. “Last time I heard, you were babysitting that bitch.”
“You got it,” I surmise, placing the blunt between my lips. “Babysitting.”
Vivian’s long fingernails curl into the front of my shirt. “You’rewithher.”
“I have to be to babysit.”
“Why? Was I right?” There’s hope now in her voice. Her imagination running wild with possibilities of what the fuck is really going on. “You’re playing her? There’s an ulterior motive?”
Nope.
Nonetheless, I can’t tell her that. The last thing I need is Vivian whistleblowing my plan and the reason I’m here.
“Do you think I’d fuck long-term with a South Shore slut?” I press back flatly and inhale another much needed hit. “I’m the King of fuckin’ Wharf Bay.”
“That hasn’t been annotated for that role yet.” Her nose wrinkles, as if I’m out of my mind for not doing it yet. Truthfully, I don’t care. In reality, it still needs to happen. “You haven’t picked yourqueenyet.”
I don’t need to.
However, it’s always been on Vivian’s mind. It’s why she bothered with me for so long.
“I’ve been a little busy, Viv.”
“Toringot her out of jail,” she leers, waving away a cloud of smoke I’ve just released. “I have a feeling that has something to do withyou.”
“But I’m here, right?”
Vivian takes a step away from me, as if suddenly realizing, at this moment, me randomly showing up here is far fetched as it is. “Why? You’ve been nothing but awful to me. You ignore my calls and my text messages. You won’t evenseeme, but you’re randomly here?—”
“Get on your knees, Vivian.”
She balks at me, green eyes wide in surprise, but I hold her stare with one that doesn’t want to be argued with.
Which isn’t far off the mark.
I knew I wasn’t getting out of this visit unscathed. That I would have to pull out all the stops to get her to shut the hell up so I could, somehow, get into Muncy’s phone and delete Bay’s evidence.
I hate to ruin this memory for me.
The last time I had a blunt in my hand and a pretty girl on her knees was Bay Astor.
Now I have a blonde bitch who’s done nothing but ruin my brother and cause nothing but a massive headache.
I pass Vivian the blunt, as if it’s a silent peace offering. She takes it without hesitation but stares at it as if it’s a foreign object.
