38. You Pick, I Pick
thirty-eight
You Pick, I Pick
Vexen: 2024
I f I didn’t think she'd claw my eyeballs out, I’d snap a picture. The anger I see pumping through her cold heart is enough to make me hard. Actually, everything she does makes me hard.
Hendrix told me to watch her and keep her safe while he and Dad took a quick trip out of town. Then he asked me to give her a history lesson. I can’t believe that bitch never told her anything. Nothing about how important she is. I’m guessing it’s because the bitch was jealous that she’d never shine as bright as her daughter.
My powerful queen.
“Are we doing this shit or what?” she asks angrily, glaring across the table.
I bite my tongue, barely holding in my laughter. “Ladies first,” I joke, nodding at the tray.
She surprises me when she snatches a glass and throws back the liquid like a champ. “Lemon drops? Seriously?” she scolds, stealing my beer to chase it. “What about Carney?” she asks evilly, sliding my beer back to me.
I lean on my elbows, watching her lick her lips, wishing it were me doing it. “The guys aren’t held to the same rules. She was gifted to me while you were away,” I answer, holding up a hand to stop her from arguing. “My turn.” Quickly, I down a shot. “Tell me about Franky,” I grit, slamming the small glass on the table.
She rolls her caramel eyes, leaning on her elbows to mirror me. “Stop pretending you don’t know his name. It’s childish. Felix was a distraction on a boring-thirsty night,” she answers carelessly. Grabbing another glass, slamming it on the table once it’s empty. “What’s your rules? Did you fuck her?”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Waving a finger at her. “That’s two truths.”
Her nostrils flair. “Prick.”
Once she’s taken the second shot. “No. I already told you I never touched that trap. My rules start after we’re married. Until then,” I pause, leaning closer. “I can do whatever the fuck I want,” I answer slowly, driving home my point, loving when I see her anger.
I swear she snarls, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll end up covered in lemon drops by the end of the night.
Taking my time, letting her cook in her anger for a moment. After swallowing. “Are you a virgin?”
She narrows blazing caramel eyes at me. “Fuck you,” she sneers.
“Are you quitting?” I ask.
“Ugh,” she groans loudly, refusing to look at me. “Unlike you, I wasn’t allowed to be a whore. I wasn’t even allowed to date. So,” she grits, finally snapping her neck to look at me. “Yesss,” she growls.
Air seeps from my lungs, relief replacing it.
She holds her shot, staring at me emotionlessly, and I gear up for what I know she’s about to ask. She lets the liquor slide down her throat and gently places the glass on the table. I shake my head, willing her not to ask the question. But she does it anyway.
“How many?”
I turn my head, hating the answer I’m about to give her. “Enough,” I growl, peering at the hate she’s throwing my way.
“No, no, no. Are you quitting?”
I bite my jaw, instantly tasting copper. “Does it matter?”
“Of course, it matters. You accuse me of being a whore, when you probably can’t even remember how many bitches you’ve dicked down,” she argues, raising her voice enough to draw attention.
“I was pissed after you shut me out. You left. Blocked my number. Stopped visiting with Opal. You disappeared, Onyx. Your mom told me you were never coming back,” I argue louder, ignoring the worthless faces watching us. “Carney was a gift to replace you because I turned into a fucking lunatic,” I growl, letting the rage I’ve held onto for years consume me.
She shoots from her seat, lunging across the table, smacking me across the face. “Fuck you, Vex. You’re the reason I left! You’re the reason I hate this place, and my past. Why didn’t you apologize for hurting me? You blamed me, then went and found yourself a piece of money-hungry trash! Fuck off,” she shouts before storming away.
I watch her disappear down the hallway leading to the bathrooms. Suddenly, everyone around us goes back to minding their business, letting me shove down my rage and try to compose myself in peace.
“Shit show kinda night?” Zeke jokes causally, standing by the booth, blocking me from sight. “You good?”
Scrubbing my face, starting to feel the buzz from the shots I slammed. “I’m good.”
Keegan saunters up beside Zeke. “You should know, I just spotted Carney high tailing her awful ass to the bathroom,” he announces calmly before strolling away.
“Fuck,” I groan, sliding from the booth.
Zeke grabs Keegan, and they follow me. At least it’s still early, so a line hasn’t formed yet. Their yelling echoes through the cheap door. Zeke follows me in while Kee stays outside to block the door.
“You’re such a stupid bitch! He picked me! He’s going to marry me! He doesn’t want your pathetic ass,” Carney shouts like the raging bitch she is.
Zeke and I stop dead in our tracks, shocked to find Onyx laughing hysterically. When she notices me, she sobers instantly.
Walking past Carney, she stops between us. Standing sideways, making sure to keep both of us in her sights.
“You signed a paper saying you’d marry her?” she asks me directly, ignoring everyone else in the room.
Zeke hurries to usher out the two chicks hiding in a stall. Then returns quietly. The room suddenly feels too small as rage thrashes at my insides the longer I’m forced to stare at Carney’s manipulative face.
“Get her out of here,” I order Zeke, trying to rain in the fire, scorching the air from my lungs.
Nothing I have to say is good. All of it’s going to hurt her. But none of the bullshit matters now that she’s back. I don’t care if I have to chain her up for the rest of her life. I won’t lose her again.
“Suddenly, you’ve got nothing to say?” she questions innocently, fluttering her lashes.
I’ll be surprised if this whole fucking bar doesn’t go up in flames.
Once Zeke has wrangled Carney’s screaming ass from the room and we’re alone, I hesitantly step towards her.
She pulls what I think is half a joint from her cleavage and lights up. “Are you going to listen to what I have to say?” I ask, treading lightly.
She leans back on one of the sinks. “You’ve got three hits, then I’m leaving,” she rasps, trying to hold the toxic smoke in her lungs.
“You already know I had to sign a paper. We discussed this in the car. The four signed an agreement.” I remind her.
She laughs, smoke escaping from her mouth. “You lying sack of dog shit. She wasn’t a gift. You picked her off of some piece of shit list and had her boxed up all neat and pretty and shipped to you. That’s what Zoey meant about her going away. The bitch doesn’t belong here!” she shouts.
“I didn’t pick her. Her bloodline’s from town. She was next on the list. Her money picked her.”
“I should’ve set your ass on fire that first day you broke into the cottage,” she purrs, taking another hit and holding it in.
I take a deep breath, trying my best to stay calm. “None of this matters. She’ll be gone by the end of the weekend,” I try to reason, stating the facts.
“Is that supposed to make it all better? You throwing her away like trash? When you get tired of me, are you going to throw me away, too?” she asks, dropping the weed on the floor and stomping it with her boot. Stepping towards me, tiny flames dancing in her caramel eyes. “Fuck you, I’m ditching your ass first,” she seethes, storming towards me to leave.
“I told you I won’t lose you again,” I grit, stepping in front of her.
“Our lives aren’t a game!” she shouts in my face.
“Then stop making it one!” I shout back, seizing the second of shock it causes, throwing her over my shoulder.
“Let me go, you fucking psycho!”
“Zeke, get the back door and help me tie her up,” I order, carrying her kicking and screaming down the hall to the back exit.
Once we’re at the car, Zeke helps me restrain her hands and feet before we put her in the backseat.
“Can you drive? You smashed a bunch of shots,” Zeke asks.
“I’m good. Keep your phone on,” I warn before sliding into the driver’s seat.