Page 83 of Ruining Vanessa

“You know what this could be?” I say, grinning. “You know why else you might be puking, this early in the morning?”

“Bad food,” Vanessa says instantly. “The chicken was off, so the ceviche was probably off too. Oh, god…” she whines. “I knew I shouldn’t have had seafood.”

I laugh, getting up to draw her hair back and kiss the top of her head. “Sure. You keep vomiting. I have to go check on something. But I’ll be right back. You want anything? Tea? Bread? Ginger ale?”

She shudders. “Water,” she croaks out. “Just water.”

I pat her again, then let go so I can get dressed. As fun as it would be to watch her suffer like this, I’d rather confirm my theory.

My phone buzzes again. Why?

Like he doesn’t know. He’s been getting his hopes up again too, but it’s more muted than last month. Maybe he doesn’t want his heart to break all over again like when Vanessa fucking played us—

But that’s all in the past.

I head next door to Elena, knocking quietly enough that it won’t wake her if she’s still sleeping. Like Damien, though, Elena is up at this ungodly hour and opens the door for me.

“Giulio? Is something wrong?” she asks.

I know a lot of people think Elena isn’t expressive. That the scars on her face have robbed her of that. They’re wrong, though, and the worry is still clear in her eyes.

I smile at her to reassure her. “Nah, nothing wrong. Just wondering where the club keeps the pregnancy tests. ‘Cause, man, Vanessa is puking up her guts right now and I know it wasn’t because of the ceviche.”

Elena’s eyes widen a little. “So soon?” I know she’s thinking about how recently Vanessa was using the sponges, but a) they’re not foolproof, and b) it’s been long enough to get her knocked up since then.

I shrug. “She was being weird about food last night, and this morning she’s throwing up at the ass crack of dawn. It’s worth checking, at least.”

My phone buzzes again. Giulio?

“I suppose. But it could be the fish,” Elena mumbles. “They’re with the medical supplies. I’ll go grab the pregnancy tests, but… I’ve been thinking about it, Giulio. Are you sure Vanessa is the one you want children with? She’s pretty, but I think you can probably do better. And if you find another woman, you wouldn’t have to share her with—”

“Elena,” I interrupt, still smiling. “You know I really respect your opinion. But, kindly, shut the fuck up.”

Elena’s eyes widen, and she takes a step back. “Ah. Sorry. Of course. I’ll go grab the…”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll do it. Sorry to wake you this early in the morning.” I put an arm around her shoulders and kiss her scarred cheek. “It’s cool. I know you’re looking out for me.”

I swallow the simmering anger. I do know that Elena’s looking out for me. She’s one of the few people who does. But she doesn’t get to decide who I fuck, who I share with, who I…

I let go of her and head downstairs, not caring if I wake anybody else in the club. Most of the girls are locked in anyway, and Donny and Paul won’t show up for at least another few hours.

The supply closet’s a fucking mess, but I find the pregnancy tests. I stand there reading the instructions for a few moments. It really is as straightforward as on TV. Pee on the stick. Wait. Celebrate the stick color.

My phone buzzes yet again as I grab some bottles of water for Vanessa, but I don’t bother to check. It’s kind of fun torturing Damien like this too.

When I return to Vanessa’s room, she’s stopped heaving, but she’s still sitting next to the toilet.

“Hey, Mama,” I say. I hand her one of the water bottles. “Feeling better?”

“A little bit,” she says wearily, taking the bottle from me. She eyes it for a moment before opening the cap, taking a very small sip and closing her eyes. “Remind me never to eat from that place again, Giulio. I don’t think I’ve ever had food poisoning before, and I’d rather never have it again.”

Either she’s that naive, or she’s trying very hard to fool herself.

I squat down to her level and ruffle her hair. “Sure. No more Don Pablo’s. But before we blame poor Pablo for his atrocious food safety standards, why don’t you pee on this? I’d hate to slander his cooking for no reason.”

I hold up the pregnancy test for her.

Vanessa stares at it, then blanches. She edges away from me, shaking her head. “No. I mean, I’m a little late, but things have been… stressful. There’s no way I could be pregnant.”

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