As far as I was concerned, Aunty Mommy had been the most evil person I knew or could imagine, but this sort of thing was next level cruel. Animals were innocent and loved unconditionally. They deserved everything wonderful in life. I’d rescued Ajax from a horrific situation where he’d been kept on a short chain, his collar chewing into his neck, his skin covered in sores. He’d been starved and scared and angry, and he’d been protecting two little girls from their homicidal father. I’d been glad when the bastard was killed. The fucker deserved it. He deserved a lot worse, and I hoped he was getting his full due in hell. But that had been casual neglect, which was awful enough. What Lorraine was talking about now was sadistic. Evil.
“That’s….” I didn’t even have the words.
Jen nodded. “That’s fucked up, insane, and hopefully way outside of reality.”
“Trouble is, it makes a lot of sense,” Luke said.
“Only if Flannery is a psychopath,” I said, hoping like fuck that he wasn’t.
“He’s a politician. Aren’t they psychopaths by definition?” Lorraine asked. “Everything for them is about power, money, and getting more of both.”
Her cynicism was well earned. Her own father had abandoned his family when she was young and had gone on to have a celebrated career, first as a federal judge, then as a senator. Years ago he’d guaranteed that success by forcing her mother to sign a non-disclosure agreement, saying she wouldn’t ever reveal he’d fathered Lorraine or that he’d abandoned her, and in exchange he’d give her a substantial payoff and would pay for Lorraine’s college and vet school, and he’d smooth the way in her career in any way she needed. She’d have to repay all the money if she or Lorraine ever revealed the truth. He’d gone so far as to have himself removed from her birth certificate, though how he’d done that, I had no idea. It hadn’t been legal, that’s for sure. He’d had their marriage nullified as well.
He was now jockeying to either get on the Supreme Court, or become the Attorney General of the United States.
Like Lorraine said: psychopath.
“Whatever his plans, he won’t risk doing anything during his party,” I said. “We’ll just have to make sure he can’t do anything after.” I picked up the invitation and glanced at the clock. “It’s already started.”
“We’ve got time.” Luke said, taking it from me. “The party will go on until late, no doubt with rivers of alcohol to loosen up the checkbooks. Most people will be fashionably late, anyhow.”
“One problem,” I said. “I don’t have anything to wear. I lost my wardrobe when Garrett destroyed my apartment. I’ll have to see if I can find anything off the rack somewhere.”
“Or…” Jen said, drawing the word out.
I eyed her, sure I was going to hate her next words. I was so right.
“You could raid Aunty Mommy’s closet.”
“No,” my mouth said before my brain even got a chance to think about it.
“You’re close enough to her size to find something, and you could probably wiggle your nose and make both the clothes and shoes fit.”
“I’d rather go naked.”
“That would certainly distract Flannery,” Lorraine said.
“It would also get you tossed out,” Jen said. She glared at Luke. “And keep your mouth shut. We already know you’d support her going naked.” She turned back to me. “Up to you, but you know you’re more likely to find something at Aunty Mommy’s than at some store. You’re stuck with whatever’s open on Sunday, which is going to be the mall and Walmart.”
I glared. I hated that she was right. I wasn’t going to say it out loud, either.
“We might be able to help.”
Rhi stood in the door. Her eyes were bruised looking and tired. I jumped up.
“How are you? How’s Lindsey? Are you hungry? Sit down.”
I ushered her to my now-empty chair, scooped up my dishes and went to make her an omelet. Ajax followed, leaning against my leg. Talk about an emotional support animal. I was supposed to be his support.
“Lindsey’s still asleep. Lorel is staying with her.”
“I’ll fix her something to eat and take it to her.”
“What did you mean you might be able to help?” Lorraine asked after I introduced her.
“Lorel and I design clothes. A lot of A-listers wear them. In fact, we’ve designed for Lydia Flannery. She’s lovely, and her husband is scum. I’d love to help her. I know we have something you could wear. We’d just have to run to our house in Sutton.”
She hesitated, looking around at all of us and flushing when she met Luke’s admiring gaze and quickly looking away. I rolled my eyes. He was such a tomcat.
