Page 5 of Walking Red Flag

But that was just something that I didn’t want.

Like my sister, Nastya, I just couldn’t deal with having someone following my every step twenty-four-seven.

“Behave.” She pointed at me, then she was gone, leaving me to look at my partner in crime.

We went out onto the deck, and together we boat watched and played Go Fish.

After I won for the second time, I turned to her and batted my eyes.

“You are my sunshine…” I started to sing, but my niece placed her hand over my mouth and narrowed her eyes.

“Stop,” she ordered. “I don’t like it when you sing to me.”

I pouted. “But I used to sing that to you when you were a baby.”

“I didn’t even like it then,” she deadpanned.

I burst out laughing, my already sore belly from my morning run protesting the movement. “But Vivi, how will you know that I love you if I don’t sing to you?”

“You could just tell me.” She crossed her arms.

God, so much like my brother, Shasha, it made my heart ache.

“Okay, okay,” I said. “I’ll try to remember that for next time, sweetie.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you use that term of endearment?”

“Words ending in ‘ie’ are always so adorable, just like you.” I giggled. “Cutie. Sweetie. Hottie.”

“Die,” she grumbled.

I sighed. “Still in a bad mood, I see.”

“I’d be happier if I could win.”

So we played four more hands before she gave up, and each time I made sure to play to win.

Wouldn’t do to have my niece getting a bigger head than she already had, thanks to my brother.

It’s crazy how no one in this life is perfect, yet everyone is so judgmental.

—Cutter to Chevy

CUTTER

“But this is ridiculous, Cutter. That’s money that we could spend on a house! You’re too fucking old to be living in this shit hole!” my soon-to-be-ex, Dorie, cried out in frustration.

Her hands were in the air, and the one-hundred-and-thirty-five-dollar manicure that I’d paid for with my hard-earned money glinted against the harsh, overhead light.

I stared at her in annoyed anger.

Not to mention, she was wearing my fuckin’ shirt that she knew I didn’t like her wearing.

“First off, take that fuckin’ shirt off. You know how I feel about you wearing it. Second, I’ve already explained it to you, Dorie,” I replied rather calmly, even though everything inside of me was telling me that I should rant and rave. Tell her that she just didn’t fucking listen to me. “This is nonnegotiable for me.”

Dorie yanked down her hands and fisted them at her side, spun around, and grabbed her keys. “Well, I don’t want to live in this hellhole for the rest of my life!”

I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “Before you leave, take all the things that you have here so you don’t have to come back. And if you take off with my shirt, I’m going to come get it, and you won’t like it if I do.”

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