CHAPTER 18
VICTORIA
Victoria grabbed Tammy by the shoulders and took a step back. “Are you okay?” she asked, scanning Tammy for injuries.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” Tammy reassured.
“Thank God. Come on in the house.”
Victoria led Tammy through the foyer and into the parlor.
“Sit down. I’ll fix you a drink.”
Tammy nodded and took a seat on the sofa. Victoria made quick work of pouring her a generous amount of Jack Daniels. She knew that Tammy wasn't much of a drinker, but due to the circumstances, she doubted that she would refuse.
“Is Luca okay?” she asked as she handed Tammy her drink.
“Yeah... well…no. I think he got shot in the arm.” Tammy lifted the glass to her mouth with a shaky hand, and Victoria could tell how worried she was.
“Aww shit, girl, a bullet to the arm is like a mosquito bite for Luca,” Victoria chuckled. She sat next to Tammy on the sofa and placed her hand on her shoulder. “That man of yours is as tough as nails. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Tammy laughed. “He wasn't too hurt to yell at me.”
“Hmph…I ain't surprised.”
“How did you know?” Tammy asked.
“Gianni called. Apparently, someone tried to hit Francis in Italy.”
“What? Is he okay? What happened?”
Before Victoria could elaborate, Lorenzo walked in with two of Luca’s other men, and a woman she’d never seen before. She didn't even get a chance to ask who the woman was before the woman blurted, “What the hell is going on?! Tamara, are these men gangsters?! Thought you were some kinda fancy designer. Come to find out, you're surrounded by thugs.” She huffed as if disgusted. “And who the hell is she?”
The woman pointing her finger in Victoria’s face didn't seem to know or care that she was being offensive. Victoria stood from the sofa and looked from Tammy to Lorenzo. Neither bothered to check the woman’s behavior.
“Who the hell am I? You're in my house. Who the fuck are you?”
The woman crossed her arms and glared at Victoria. “I’m—”
Victoria threw her hand up, interrupting the irritating woman. “Doesn't matter. Just shut up.”
Victoria turned to Lorenzo and asked, “Who is this lady?”
It was Tammy that responded. “Vic, this is Beverly Beauvais. My mom.”
Victoria was stunned. The only thing she knew about Tammy’s mom was that she was a heroin addict that had abandoned Tammy and her dad, Jean-Paul, when she was a young girl. But the woman in front of Victoria didn't look much like a heroin addict. As a Vice cop, Victoria knew a junkie when she saw one. They didn't look like the pretty, well-put-together woman standing in front of her.
“My bad, Tammy,” Victoria apologized. “I didn't mean to curse at your mom.”
“It’s okay, Vic.”
“It’s okay?!” Beverly screeched. “It’s okay for her to speak to me like that? No, it ain't! First, I gotta dodge bullets because of that thug you call a fiancé. Next thing I know, I’m being disrespected by this—”
“Oh my God…shut up!” Tammy shouted.
It was obvious that Tammy had had enough. She jumped to her feet and closed in on her mother. “I have had just about enough of you,” Tammy hissed. “You come in here acting like we offended your good Christian values. I know for a fact that you have crawled in the lowest gutters of Louisiana. Get the fuck outta here with that! Say something else about my man and I’ma throw yo’ ass, head first, the fuck outta here.”
Beverly recoiled at her harsh words, but Tammy wasn't done.
