Deceived Wrath (The Sullivan Mafia #5)

1. Fiona

Chapter One

FIONA

"What would I do without you?"

I paste on more bleach to Zoe's hair. "You, my vain best friend, are lucky that I love you because I think I'm getting high from the fumes."

We're packed into her tiny bathroom.

The room is barely big enough for both of us to stand in, so of course we decided that locking ourselves inside while in the presence of a crap ton of hydrogen peroxide was a good idea.

My head hurts, and my eyes are watering, but I can't exactly stop now, otherwise Zoe will look more like Cruella than The Mother of Dragons. Not that it would look bad on her, of course, she would rock it. She looks great either way. But Cruella is not the look she is aiming for right now.

Zoe laughs. "Getting high will do you good."

I catch her eye in the mirror and frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Regret hits me the moment the last word leaves my lips because Zoe's answering sigh lets me know I need to brace myself.

One of the things I love most about Zoe is her unwavering ability to be honest. I just wish said ability wasn't about to be directed at me.

Me and my big mouth.

"It means that you're twenty-two years old, and your idea of a fun night is staying at home and cleaning your kitchen."

"So what? Is it a crime that I like a clean space? What is so wrong with being clean?"

Zoe snorts. "There's clean, and then there's you, Fiona."

I hold up a hand with a dollop of the goo I'm putting on her hair. "Remember that I'm the one with the bleach here. You better not annoy me."

I section off another strand of her hair and lather on more bleach. I've already done the tresses, and we have now moved to the roots.

"Quick question. It's normal for my scalp to be burning, right?"

"What? Oh god, I'm going to make my best friend bald." I set down the bowl and snatch the bleach packet, furiously reading the back.

Zoe laughs, pointing at my look of horror in the mirror. "Oh my god, your face! Fiona, I'm kidding. I've been bleaching my hair for years. By now, my scalp is practically numb. And if my hair does end up falling out, it's no big deal. I think I could rock the bald look."

My shoulders sag, and I shake my head as a smile dances on my face.

Picking up the bowl of bleach, I finish off the section. "You can rock any look. Have you ever thought of just going natural?"

"Never. Natural is boring."

"God forbid you be boring," I tease.

"Unfortunately, some of us weren't born with blonde locks. You don't know how lucky you are, Fi."

"Trust me, I am anything but lucky," I mutter.

It's true that what Zoe is trying to achieve with a box of bleaching goo, I was given by way of genetics.

A glance in the mirror reminds me that I'm the youngest version of my sister, a woman I always looked up to, someone who helped me learn to love my short height and unusual hair.

My eyes lower to my hands and the goo in the bowl. Looking in the mirror hurts too much because I no longer see myself. All I see is her.

And her fall from the pedestal I put her on has left me broken.

I set the bowl of bleach down on the side of the bathtub. "I think you're done. Now what?"

"Now I have to put on this sexy little number..." Zoe reaches into the box and pulls out a shower cap.

I laugh as she tucks the cap over her hair. "I didn't think you could get any hotter, and yet, here you are. Oh, man. I need to capture this moment."

Taking off the gloves and tossing them in the trash, I pull my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and snap a picture of Zoe striking a pose with her foot on the side of the tub.

"The Winnie the Pooh pjs really complete the look." I hold out my phone to show her.

She grins. "I'm so adding this to my dating profile."

Knowing Zoe, she's being dead serious.

I hold my arm over my nose as I try not to breathe too deeply. "Okay, I really need to get out of this bathroom before I pass out."

Zoe's apartment is barely bigger than a shoebox, which means as soon as I open the door to step out, the smell of the bleach unleashes everywhere. It doesn't help that she also follows me into the kitchen-slash-living room.

We should really open a few windows and let this place air out.

"Next time, we're doing this at my place."

"You would seriously allow me to dye my hair in your bathroom? Are you forgetting that the bleach is only stage one?" Zoe laughs, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of wine.

I groan. "I thought you didn't need me to do the pink dye?"

Zoe shrugs. "I don't. But I do need someone to drink this wine with me so I don't feel like a total loser."

"You are far from a loser. There's probably already a string of men outside your building waiting for me to leave." I take the bottle from her and carry it over to the couch while she gets some glasses.

"Hah, if only..." Zoe plops down on the couch, tucking her legs up underneath her. "I need to get laid."

"I thought you were seeing that guy... What was his name?"

"Brandon?"

"Yeah. I thought things were going well?"

"Oh no, he had to go." She uncorks the wine and pours us both healthy-sized glasses.

"Why? What was wrong with him?"

"I had to ask him to go down on me."

"So?"

Zoe looks at me like I just declared the Earth is flat.

I frown. "What?"

"I have neverhad to ask a guy to eat me out before."

"And this is grounds to break up with someone?"

"How can it not be? I have never met a guy who hasn't acted like he would happily spend the rest of his life with his head between my legs, and when you're used to that treatment, anything else simply isn't going to cut it. We all deserve to be worshiped, Fiona. Remember that."

"I'll bear that in mind." I take a sip of my wine.

"But it means I'm officially back on the market, so I'm going out tomorrow night with Hailey and Anna, then I'm going dancing with Kylie on Wednesday."

"I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"Go out every night and still manage to function like a human being. If I get even ten minutes less than my designated eight hours of sleep, I turn into a complete zombie."

Zoe scoffs. "See, this is where you went wrong. You're supposed to build up your stamina during college, and then when you're thrown out into the real world, you're able to work all day and party all night. Why do you think I ever went to college? It sure as hell wasn't for the diploma."

I take a sip of wine. "Oh, I know. I don't think you ever stepped foot into the library the entire time we were at NYU."

"I did!"

"Oh, yeah? When?"

"I was on a date with that guy... Oh, what was his name?" Zoe frowns, a small crease appearing between her dark brows. "Doesn't matter. Anyway, we were on a date, and he took me to the library to make out."

"And make out is code for..."

"I sucked him off."

"Zoe!"

"What? He was hot! And I could tell he had a huge dick." She grins.

"From what?"

"The size of his hands." She holds up her perfectly manicured hand.

"Since when is hand size suddenly a predictor of penis length?"

"Since always. But it's not just the length that's important, it's the girth too. I mean, I don't want to feel like I'm riding a pencil, you know?"

"Right..."

"So, I obviously had to gather evidence to support my hypothesis."

"And your first thought was to go to the library? That is a place of work!"

"Trust me, the library is one of the better places to give head. Something about the smell of old books really turns me on, you know?"

"No, I don't know."

"You are such a prude."

"I am not a prude."

"Fiona, sweetie, it's been so long since you had sex that I'm pretty sure you've been re-virginized."

I scowl at her over the top of my glass. "It's not been that long."

"Hasn't it?" Zoe's eyes twinkle as she looks at me, which only makes me scowl harder.

"I've been busy."

"Doing what?"

"I reorganized my closet last night," I mumble, reaching for the wine.

I'm tempted to forgo the glass and just drink straight from the bottle after hearing how utterly pathetic my life sounds.

"Fi... When was the last time you did anything fun?"

"I just told you. I reorganized my closet last night."

Oh, screw the glass.

I hold the bottle up to my lips and chug, wincing at the slightly sour taste.

"Okay, that's it." Zoe sets down her glass on her makeshift coffee table made of just piles of old magazines with a tray resting on top. "You're coming out with me next weekend, no excuses."

"I don't know?—"

"You need to get off this path, Fi. I'm serious."

"What path?"

"The one where you end up middle-aged and alone with twenty cats."

"How can I be alone if I have twenty cats?"

"Be serious."

"I am. And quite frankly, I like the idea of living with a bunch of cats over a man because at least cats can't cheat on you with your sister and rip your heart out in the process."

At the sight of Zoe's shocked face, I grimace.

I should not have said that. "Sorry."

Zoe reaches for my hand. "You don't need to be sorry. You have every right to be angry."

"I didn't think I still was." I set down the wine bottle.

"It's coming up on a year, right?"

I nod as I try to blink back the tears that have decided to make an appearance.

This is exactly why I don't drink wine. It makes me into a pathetic, blubbering mess. At least without the wine, I'm normally just pathetic.

"Have you heard from Joe?"

"Not since the funeral."

"Seriously?"

I fiddle with the hem of my sweatshirt. "He's still pissed at me."

"For what?"

"You know what."

Zoe scoffs. "Oh, come on.You would think he has bigger things to worry about now that he's raising two young kids on his own."

"Apparently not." I sigh.

"He's acting like his wife cheating on him is your fault."

"If I didn't have a boyfriend, she wouldn't have had someone to cheat on him with."

"Fiona, stop. None of this is your fault. If Joe wants to act like a child, then so be it."

"It's not that simple. If I don't have a relationship with him, then I don't have a relationship with Amber and Skye, and they are the most important people in my life. Other than you, of course."

Zoe holds a hand over her heart. "I'm honored."

"The worst part is I don't even know how they're doing, you know? They're so young, and they've already been through so much. I don't want this fight between me and their dad to hurt them even more."

"I'm sure they're fine. Kids are tough."

I don't know how we got onto the subject, but I'm starting to feel that familiar ache in my chest that tells me it's time to screw the lid back on my feelings before they bubble over and consume me for good.

I don't have much in life, but those two are my life, and not being able to see them, talk to them, or be in their lives... it might be what breaks me.

But that can't happen now, or even here.

So, I subtly wipe away my tears and force myself to smile, even though I know Zoe can see right through it.

"So... dancing next week, huh?"

Zoe's face breaks out into a smile, letting me know the subject has officially been dropped.

"I'm going to hold you to it this time. And I'm also lending you an outfit."

"I have clothes."

She rolls her eyes. "I know, that's the problem."

"Remind me again why we're friends?"

"Because I have wine."

"Come on, let's wash the bleach off before you turn bald."

She jumps to her feet and bumps her hip to mine. "You know, if Britney can rock it, so can I."

Even when it feels like my life is nothing but a dumpster fire, which is most of the time, somehow Zoe manages to put a smile on my face. I don't care that it's forced. I've always been one to believe in the old fake it till you make it.

I'm just hoping that at some point, I will actually make it.

Of course, the jury is still out on that one.