Page 88 of Five Fingers of Death

“Do you really like it?”

“It doesn’t matter if I do. What do you think?”

“Well…” I started to second-guess myself. Did I really choose the right one? It was grey. Was that too drab of a color? Would I regret not going with beige?

“Maybe I should have gone with white.”

She made a gagging sound. “Yuck. White shows everything. Besides, this couch is comfy. I think you chose well.”

“I thought you said your opinion didn’t matter.”

She wiggled around to get comfy. “It didn’t until you started rethinking every choice you made in the past half hour.”

I wondered why Vira was so nice to me. It was strange that a woman like her would willingly hang out with someone like me. Then again, she was under protection. She didn’t really have anyone else to hang out with. She didn’t seem to get along with most of the wives, or maybe she just didn’t try. Either way, she seemed perfectly content to hang out with me.

Damaged, fucked up me.

“Why are you shopping with me?”

The words spilled out before I had a chance to think it over.

“Well, we need furniture.” She shifted and glanced over at me. “What do you really want to ask me?”

I didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but… “You’ve seen you.”

“I generally look in the mirror, yes,” she grinned.

“And you’ve seen me.”

“You know, since you got out of the mental institution, you’re very intuitive.”

“Why me?”

“You could flip that around at any time,” she chuckled.

I had to laugh at that. “Are you kidding? You’re so confident and beautiful and?—”

“Other women tend to hate that. And I’ve made a lot of enemies over the years. I’m what some would consider an acquired taste.”

I really didn’t want to pry. “Why?”

She seemed to drift off into thought for a moment. Her eyes filled with joy for the slightest moment before turning sad. “You know how other people like relationships and kids and the white picket fence?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never been one of those. I told you about Sean. That didn’t end well, and it also caused some problems between him and his perfect wife. They weren’t married at the time, but—it doesn’t matter.”

“Why was she perfect?”

She sighed. “Religious. Wonderful laugh, full of life in the way he wanted, willing to risk her heart…Basically, the opposite of me.”

“And what’s wrong with you?” I really didn’t understand why she was being so hard on herself.

“I happen to believe nothing is wrong with me,” she grinned, but there was a crack in that strong exterior. I could see it behind her eyes. She just didn’t want me to know it was there.

“Do you mind if I ask why you’re under protection?”

“Well, that’s a long, boring story that requires a bottle of wine.”

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