Chapter 63
Let me set the scene for you before I tell you what’s happening right now. Or better yet, what me, Solo, the crew, and Maverick are enduring in this moment. By the hands of my goddess of a girlfriend, of course.
And…now she’s singing. Horrendously, too, if the buzzing in my ears is any indication.
“And I keep dancing with my, eye-eye-eye-eyes, eye-eye-eye-eyes clooooooosed.”
I’m sitting on one of the velvet couches in one of the private rooms at Indulgence, with Cignette’s head on my lap, and her mouth merely inches away from my innocent eardrums. My life’s absolutely perfect, thank you so much for asking.
I guess her current state is also a byproduct of her losing Lure to Chase’s stubbornness.
She told me earlier that her account had been credited with a huge sum, and even though it’s sort of a reassurance that Chase lived up to his promise of giving Cigs Lure’s money, I understand how it must have hurt her. The finality of it all, I mean.
And let’s not forget about everything that happened with Riley and Miranda a few days ago.
That’s a mental scar I know she’ll always carry with herself, despite what she says.
I can tell she’s grieving in her own way, and I can understand that there’s this inner turmoil that she’s experiencing, but to say that I’m feeling it the way she must be feeling it, would be a lie.
And it’s because I’m not like her. A monster never mourns, so I’m pretty much an illiterate in this field.
But I’m here for her, and if she needs anything, I’ll do my best to give it to her.
“Cause everywhere I look, I still see youuuuu,” Cignette continues to sing, then laughs and hiccups. Her white cocktail dress has risen a little, exposing her thighs, and her heels are all but dangling off the couch’s edge.
“Someone please stop this train wreck,” Solo mumbles, then downs a shot.
“It won’t stop until she falls asleep. Trust me, I’ve tried in the past,” Maverick says.
“Let the poor woman enjoy her money, people,” Alex adds. “Being rich means she can do whatever she wants.”
“That shouldn’t involve her making us deaf, babe,” Jayce remarks.
“Whoever told her she can sing is the dumbest fuck in the world,” Varsha remarks.
“I think she just assumes she’s Solange when she’s intoxicated,” Maverick tells us, making us laugh.
“There is so much wrong with that sentence,” Alex says, then shakes his head. “But I’ll let it pass since we’re all so drunk.”
Varsha raises her glass, and the rest of us follow.
I lean back on the couch and take a drink of my bourbon, and almost spit it back out when Cignette sings another line from Ed Sheeran’s latest single.
“God, I need to be more inebriated if I’m to continue to endure this shit,” I mutter. I then snatch the shot glass Solo has just picked up, and chug it, letting the vodka burn my throat and chest.
Cignette shifts on my lap, then groans and sits up. With her hair knotted on the side of her head, and her eyelids drooped, she looks completely fucked up. And adorable.
She leans forward and makes to grab the half-empty bottle of scotch from the table, but I stop her.
“Nope.” I pull her arm back and bring her close to me. “You’ve had enough for tonight.”
She pouts as she blinks at me. God, even her eye makeup is smudged. How the hell did she manage to do that?
“One glass,” she slurs, then runs her fingers over her throat. “My throat’s…dry–hiccup–from the singing.”
“Well, drinking more will make you sing more, and I can’t let that happen.”
She shoves at my chest, making my lips twitch. “Rude.” She pokes my shoulder. “Rude.”
I give her a quick kiss, and when that makes her smile, I do it again.
“I’m just saving all our hearings, especially mine. How else will I hear you moaning and screaming my name when I’m fucking you later tonight?”
She glances at my lips, and when I smirk, she brings her face close to mine.
Her breath smells sweet, and I fucking lose myself in her when she glances up at me.
A big mistake, because I realize too late that she’s doing this as a distraction, and by the time I’ve blinked myself out of it, she’s already moving forward and grabbing that bottle of scotch.
“Dorran, what the fuck?!” Maverick scolds.
Cignette puts the bottle to her lips and starts downing the remainder of the scotch that’s in it. It takes my brain a second to signal my body to fucking move, and when it does, I pull the bottle from her and hand it over to Alex.
“Rude,” she whispers, then hiccups.
I can’t help but chuckle. “You fucking tricked me.”
“You deserved it, okay?” She slumps against me. “I told you: my throat is dry.”
“Let’s keep it that way, then. Unless you want me to order you some water.”
She scrunches up her nose, making me laugh.
The room’s door opens, and the loud techno music playing outside, filters in. I look towards it, and find Eddie making his way to us, looking every bit like Alexander fucking Dreymon, but with dark eyes. It’s uncanny, seriously.
He’s in his early 40s, and everywhere he goes, he instantly holds people’s attention.
He’s got that aura about him, I guess, what with owning a place like Indulgence, and doing the things he does behind the scenes.
He’s just as much a twisted motherfucker as the rest of us, but the way he carries himself – it masks who he really is, very well.
“Everything okay here?” he asks, then comes to a stop in front of the group.
“All good; thanks, man,” Jayce says, tipping his glass forward.
Cignette turns and looks at Eddie, then makes a small sound in the back of her throat before getting to her feet. She fails, of course, and Eddie catches her before she can hit the floor, face-first.
Asshole.
“And who are you?” she says, then stumbles in her attempt at stepping back to give him a once over. “Whoops, excuse my…” She waves a hand in front of her face. “Tardiness.”
When we got to Indulgence, Eddie was in his office, so him and Cignette didn’t exactly have a chance to meet. I was hoping it’d stay that way, though, but I guess not.
Eddie smirks, then let’s his gaze travel over the length of my Cignette’s body.
Okay, that’s enough.
I rise and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her to me.
Eddie notices, of course, because I’m not being fucking subtle about it. He smirks, and I in turn scowl at him.
“Stay in your fucking lane, Edgar,” I warn.
He chuckles, then raises his hands in surrender. “I was just lookin’, man; I didn’t intend to touch. Or taste.” He winks at me.
“Oh, I’d love to see you try.”
“Boys, boys, boys.” Cignette clicks her tongue. “Stop fighting over lil ole moi. There’s plenty of me to go around, alright?”
“I need to get you home,” I counter.
“Psh.” She turns around, stumbles again, then faces the others. “They’re fighting over me,” she tells them, pointing at herself, then giggles. Fucking giggles. “They’re…fighting–hiccup–over meeeee.”
“Good God, she’s something else,” Eddie says.
That comment makes me laugh. “Isn’t she?”
He shakes his head. “I mean, you’ve risked your ass for her on more than one occasion, so she’s most definitely gotta be.”
“The things we do for the people we care for.”
He looks at me as if he’s studying me, then nods and gives me a smile. “You’re lucky you have that – people that you’re close to; a fond family of sorts.” There’s a suppressed sadness to him now, as if he envies me, but isn’t malicious to act on it.
“You’re part of it too,” I say, simply because he’s been there for me and my crew for years now, and it’d be unfair not to appreciate that.
He laughs. “Was that a lie to make me feel included?” He raises a brow. “That’s not your style, Ledge; I thought you knew that.”
I roll my eyes and give his arm a playful punch. “I meant what I said, so you best believe it, asshat.”
He chuckles. “Thanks. I think.”
I flip him off, to which he chuckles again.
“Dorran?” comes Cignette’s voice.
I turn to her, and notice that her complexion has paled.
Fuck.
“I think…I think I’m gonna throw up,” she says.
Maverick is on his feet in an instant, and so are Alex and Varsha. Jayce and Solo glance at each other, and then, with unison sighs, stand up as well.
“I wonder why that is,” Solo comments, then averts his gaze when Maverick and I glare at him.
Jayce clears his throat, and I know he’s doing so to stifle his laughter.
Dipshit.
Maverick makes his way to Cignette, and with a nod in my direction, he starts leading her to the bathroom on the other side of the room.
I sigh and look at Eddie. “I gotta go.”
“Duty calls, I see.”
I lift a shoulder, then bump my fist against his before following after Maverick and Cignette.