Joaquin would cut his dick off for Violet, and I have no doubt this little vixen in front of me would walk through fire for him. If Gina saw me burning on the cross, she’d throw gasoline on me and take the ticket to Hell. She hates me that much.
“I ran into her today,” I admit and as soon as the words leave my lips, I curse myself. I don’t know why I’m opening the can of worms.
“I bet you didn’t run into her at a strip club,” she teases, tossing me a wink as she makes herself comfortable on the bed and pops another fry into her mouth.
Seeing my sister dancing on a pole might be the only thing that can make this night worse.
I shake my head and bring my eyes back to Violet.
“She was at the cemetery,” I supply, quietly recalling the encounter. She was kneeling in front of our mother’s grave when I arrived, talking to the stone. I couldn’t make out what she was saying and still, I felt like I was intruding. That’s when I turned to walk away, but something kept me rooted in place. Not wanting to startle her, I cleared my throat and made my presence known. She glanced over her shoulder but didn’t say a word.
I tried to speak.
Hello, perhaps.
How are you?
Remember me? The guy who sold his soul to the Devil after our mom passed to make sure your dreams came true.
But I couldn’t find my fucking voice and she quickly got to her feet. I watched her kiss her fingertips and bring them to our mother’s tombstone before turning on her designer heels. She stopped in her tracks, spun back around and took the time to remind me I was a thug that would never amount to anything so long as I let our uncle pull my strings. Then she was gone.
“And?” Violet questions.
I shrug my shoulders.
“And nothing. Gina is set in her ways and nothing is going to change her.”
“Looks like you’re set in your ways too.”
I stare at her for a beat.
“Bug, you don’t know anything about me.”
She nods.
“You’re right, I don’t know anything about this guy,” she agrees, pushing the cart away from the bed. She unfolds her legs and lets them dangle off the edge of the bed before continuing, “But I know a lot about the guy who used to wear these clothes.” She pauses to finger the Yankee t-shirt she’s wearing. “In fact, I spent most of my life studying that guy, some might even call me an expert when it comes to him.”
Intrigued, I raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah, who?”
She waves a hand dismissively.
“That doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point.”
I reach for my glass and shake my head. She’s right, it doesn’t matter.
“Seems like you wasted much of your life studying the wrong guy. A poor choice on your behalf. For a smart girl, you’re an expert at making mistakes.”
“Why? Because I did something to help my mother? It might not have been the smartest decision, but I’d do it again and given the opportunity, I’m sure you’d help Gina again.”
Again, she surprises me, and I find myself arching an eyebrow as I take a sip of the vodka. So much for getting black-out drunk. I think I’m immune to this shit. Setting the glass between my thighs, I stare at Violet.
“What do you know about me helping Gina?”
“I know after your mom died you went to your uncle for help and that’s how you and Joaquin started working for him. You needed help burying her and you wanted to make sure your sister went to college, that she got a degree and followed her dreams.”
I swallow.