“She told you that?”
“Fuck no but I read it all over her. Her clothes, the way she wears her hair, her house, she wants more, always has, always will. She’s livin’ a dream she concocted in high school, married to the star quarterback, livin’ large, lordin’ her shit not stinkin’ all over town. She thinks you took that away from her by marrying that fuckin’ guy and she wanted it back, with your ex and the money from your life insurance policy.”
“So, you figured her out too,” I deduced.
“She’s so consumed by it, baby, she’s not even close to hiding it. And that ten minutes I had alone with her, she reeked of it so much took everything I had not to gag.”
At his words, I thought about Vanessa. I thought about the fact that Vanessa, who had mouse brown hair, bleached it blonde about a week after I started seeing Cooter. I remembered that, more than once, she’d come to school wearing the same outfit I’d worn a few days before. I thought about the fact that Milo played high school ball and looked a lot like Cooter except he stayed fit and attractive mainly because he ran every morning and only drank beer while watching sports rather than downing a six pack every night. I thought about this fact and it hit me that she didn’t even see Cooter the way he was before he got half his head blown off. She only saw what she wanted to see. And it also hit me for the first time with any clarity that the stupid idiot wanted to be me.
Then I thought that this all creeped me way the heck out.
“Okay, I was creeped out before, what with her wanting me dead, but now I’m creeped way the heck out,” I told Sam.
“That’s because this shit is creepy,” Sam told me.
“Why is Ozzie taking her in?” I asked.
“‘Cause she’s got more and he wants to give it a go getting it from her. He won’t succeed. She’ll keep her mouth shut and if she doesn’t, her attorney will do it for her.”
“What does this mean?”
“It means I’m out and Lee and Tanner are up. She’s not gonna give me shit. They’re gonna have to find ways to make her talk or dig up her dirt.”
“Right,” I whispered just as there came a knock at the door, it was loud, it was hard and Sam’s body went the latter then twisted quickly when the door flew open.
“What the fuck?” Sam growled and I peeked around him, my mouth dropping open when I watched another man in my life stalk into my living room, face like thunder.
“Jesus, fuck, Jesus!” my brother Kyle shouted, his eyes on me, his girlfriend Gitte hurrying behind him and I was having trouble deciding between shouting with glee that he was there and fleeing because he looked extremely pissed. My brother was a good guy, funny and loving but he was also tall and strong, he took care of himself and he had a temper. Therefore, with the size of his frame and volatility, when he got pissed, watch out.
He stopped in the doorway and his eyes flicked to Sam whereupon he mumbled, “Dude, cool to meet you, big fan,” then he looked back at me and exploded, “Seriously, Kiakee, what… the… fuck?”
Well, there was one good thing about being under threat of death; it took precedence over Sam’s fame.
“Uh… Kyle, Sam, Sam, Kyle, Gitte, Sam, Sam, Gitte, Kyle’s girlfriend,” I quickly introduced and, as I did, I felt the tension leave Sam’s body.
“Time for that shit is later,” Kyle announced. “Now, what the fuck?”
“Uh… I take it Dad called you,” I guessed.
“Uh…” Kyle leaned in then boomed, “Yeah! And I’m here ‘cause if I go see Ozzie I’ll wring his fuckin’ neck. What the fuck?”
I moved to stand beside Sam and asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be at work in Tennessee?”
“Yeah, but, see, they were pretty cool with me takin’ off to drive home seein’ as my goddamned sister has a hit put out on her!” Kyle answered.
“Kyle, honey, calm down,” I whispered.
“That doesn’t happen a lot.” He didn’t calm down, instead he kept on target.
“Kyle, sweetheart –” Gitte started, unwisely (I thought) getting close to his side.
Kyle ignored her. “And they had no problem believin’ that shit seein’ as my sister is currently flavor of the month on all the gossip sites.” He crossed his arms on his chest and added wryly, “So by the way, congratulations, Kiakee, for makin’ last week’s top ten best dressed on youwearitwell.com.”
I blinked.
Then I asked, “What?”
“Casual section,” Gitte put in with a huge grin. “You were number seven with your cute tank, metallic belt and short-shorts.”
Ohmigod!
“Seriously?” I asked Gitte.
“Yeah,” she answered. “And I think you’re number seven because you’re a newbie. When you’re more famous, you’ll totally move up the ranking. That outfit was hot.”
More famous?
Oh God. I didn’t know what to do with this.