23. Vani
CHAPTER 23
Vani
My mouth feels weird, almost numb, and my throat is dry, despite the amount I’ve had to drink. The bowl is empty, and so is the additional drink Angelica bought for me a while back. Saint has moved and is now staring at me from his new seat, which gives him a good view of our table. Still, he can’t hear us, and he hasn’t come over, thank God.
I’m buzzed. Too buzzed to care about Saint.
“How much of that fishbowl did I have?” I ask Angelica. “I thought it was weak.”
“It is, babe,” she says, smiling. “Maybe it’s just because you’re tired.”
“Tell us more about Reagan,” Jarena says, taking me by surprise.
Immediately, tears fill my eyes, and the table in front of me blurs.
“Babe, I think there’s more to it than you’re saying,” Angelica says softly. She takes my hand again. “You can tell us. We are your friends, right? You’re in tears about someone from your childhood?”
A knot tightens in my throat, but my tongue has been loosened by all the booze. I have to be able to trust someone in this place. Also, I want more information, and these girls aren’t stupid. I’m damn well almost crying over a supposed long lost friend? Shit. My head is so foggy, it’s hard to know what to do. I swallow and nod.
“She was my sister.” Fuck, I’ve said it now, no going back.
Angelica’s eyes widen. “Oh, my God.” Then a couple of fine lines appear between her brows. “But the two of you look nothing alike.”
“Well, my half-sister.”
Her confusion deepens. “So, Jarl Olsen is your dad? Holy fuck.”
I shake my head and swipe at a tear running down my cheek. “God, no. I’ve never even met the man. He was with my mom before my mom met my dad. I didn’t even know Reagan existed before my mom told me everything on her deathbed.”
Jarena leans forward, her mouth open. “That’s so dramatic. And then you came here looking for her and found out she’d already died. No wonder you were so upset.”
Faith squeezes my arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Vani.”
I think it’s the first time anyone has said that to me, and it only makes me cry harder. It is a loss, even if I never knew her. My heart also breaks for my mom, the loss she had when Jarl took her newborn daughter away from her. I hate that they were never reunited, and now they never will be, unless they’ve found each other in the afterlife. It’s a tiny hope I cling to.
A male voice comes from over me. “Why the fuck are you crying, Vani?”
My whole body tenses. I know who it is immediately.
Saint .
I palm more tears from my cheeks. “Go away, Saint.”
“Did you bitches make her cry?” He glares daggers at the three girls.
Faith looks down, and Jarena studiously ignores him, but Angelica’s eyes flash.
She pushes to her feet. “You’re not wanted here, Saint.”
He narrows his eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
She flips her hair behind her shoulder and lifts her chin. “And we weren’t talking to you. Stop acting like you and your buddies own this place. Vani was talking to us, because we’re her friends and we support her. All you and your twin do is destroy people.” She shoots me a glance. “Look at poor Reagan.”
A muscle in Saint’s jaw tightens. “You know we had nothing to do with that. If I find out you had anything to do with spreading those rumors about us, I’ll?—”
She cuts him off, her eyes flaring. “You’ll what? Throw me off the tower to land on your brother’s car?”
He shakes his head. “You’re fucking nuts.” His hands ball into fists. “You ought to be careful what the hell you say about people, crazy bitch.”
“Am I? I’d rather be crazy than a murderer.”
His dark blue eyes narrow dangerously, and my heart sinks.
“Please, both of you,” I beg, “stop it.”
There’s a little part of me that’s proud of Angelica for standing up to Saint on my behalf. It lets me see there might be a future for me here where I don’t have to deal with the Vipers and their bullshit. Maybe I can just be one of the girls—something I never got to be when I was at the club—and ignore the men. I see now that I came here like a woman who’d been in a sex-desert—because of my father’s overprotective behavior—and I jumped into the fountain of orgies that was the Vipers.
It’s just sex, though. That’s all. I won’t let my heart torture me with the way Zane holds my face when he kisses me, or how he said I was the only thing that made him not hate himself. I won’t remember how Saint captured me with his paint, making me more beautiful in his eyes than I’d ever considered myself. And I won’t think about how Lex nurtures me after sex, how he holds me and washes my hair and my body while telling me how incredible and perfect I am.
The potential loss of the three of them makes me want to cry all over again. Just sex , I tell myself, an addiction, really, and the only way to get over an addiction is to go cold turkey.
Saint turns to me. “Fine. For you, I’ll let this go, but I’m here for you, Vani. If you should need me.”
I force myself to harden my heart. “I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you.”
His handsome face flickers with hurt. “You’ve got my number.”
I want to tell him I’ll delete it from my cell, but I know I won’t. I also know I’d only really be saying it to try to impress Angelica and the others.
But what does he expect after the way they treated me the other night? They practically abducted me in the woods, tied me up, and fucked me every which way they wanted. I’d gone there planning to get the upper hand, but things hadn’t gone my way at all. To make matters worse, after using my body, they’d kicked me out.
I wonder if Zane told the twins that I’d then gone to his room, attempting to seduce him as a way of coming between them. If he did tell them, did he also mention how he held a knife to my throat?
It seems to me, the only people I need protecting from are the Vipers.
Saint walks away, and Angelica sinks back down, shaking her head. “God, he is such a fucking asshole. He absolutely loves himself, too. What’s with the way he dresses? It’s like he thinks he should be on a fucking runway or something.”
“I thought you liked a man who dresses well,” Jarena teases her.
Angelica’s eyes are like ice shards. “Not him . There’s a difference between a man who takes care of himself, and one who has a fucking stick up his ass and thinks he’s God’s gift.”
“They’re all like that, though, aren’t they?” Jarena says. “They all think they’re God’s gift.”
“Yeah, well, they shouldn’t. I mean, the big one, Zane, is a fucking freak. He can’t even talk.” Angelica sneers, her face a mask of disgust.
He might be an asshole of the highest order, but she’s disgusted at him for something he can’t help. Calling him a freak because he can’t talk is just downright nasty.
I find myself defending Zane, my heart beating faster at the confrontation, my cheeks burning. “It’s hardly his fault. He’s been through a lot. It’s not right calling him a freak.”
Angelica eyes me. “He’d be a freak even if he didn’t have his throat cut. Maybe someone should have finished the job.”
The thought of Zane dead with his throat slashed is all too much for me. I suddenly realize how drunk I am and unsteadily get to my feet.
“Actually, I think I need some sleep. All that alcohol has just hit me.”
“As long as you’re not running off to be with Saint.” Angelica’s gaze is accusatory. “He doesn’t give their number out easily, and I bet he’ll want something in return for his so-called help. But just remember, no one ends up coming out of an encounter with the Vipers unharmed. Reagan might have been the most extreme example, but she’s not the only one they ruined with their disgusting ways.”
I give a strange kind of laugh. “God, no. The only thing I want is my bed. Alone.”
“Okay, girl,” Faith says. “Do you want us to walk you back?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Faith stands and gives me a hug. She whispers something in my ear, and I’m sure it sounds like ‘stay strong’ or ‘be strong,’ but I’m not sure. I give her a smile and nod to show I appreciate her concern.
The other girls say goodnight as well, and then I leave the bar to head back to my room.
My mind is whirling, and I’m not sure I should have told them about Reagan. I might be about to find out who I can trust.