Page 94 of Stutter

“I won’t be drinking.” She replies quietly.

I don’t respond, just plaster a million-dollar smile on my face as the door opens and we’re greeted by the house staff. They take our coats and the first thing I do is grab a glass of wine from one of the passing trays. And down the entire thing. It’sgood, but that’s no surprise. The Monroe’s always have the best of the best.

“Simon! Clarissa, how good to see you! Thank you so much for coming!” Sofia says, kissing us both on either cheek. God, she looks fucking good. Spanish bombshell. I bet John takes extra Viagra just to fuck this woman into pieces. That’s probably why he looks so happy and well rested all the time. I mean look at her, great hips, a great ass, great pair of tits, a tiny waist. This was why she was so great in the 90’s. Plus her face – wow. I mean, I know she’s had a ton of Botox done, but geez, what a MILF.

“Thank you for having us, Mrs. Monroe.”

“Oh, Simon, it’s just Sofia.” She flirts and Clarissa turns pink beside me. “Please, have fun.” She says and walks away to be a good hostess, and I watch the way her red dress clings to her every fucking curve. Fuck.

“Why don’t you just fuck her and save us all the trouble of you gaping after her with your tongue hanging out like a drooling dog?” Clarissa gripes.

“Why fuck her when I can fuck her ripe daughter? Her hips just scream ‘made to bear your children.’” I snap back. I wouldn’t fuck Raven. I like a screamer and Raven can’t speak. But I don’t say that. I just like to make sure my wife knows she’s fucking useless.

I see Maksim towering over everyone with my second-cousin Sabrina on his arm, talking to the unkillable mute bitch and my mood sours even more. So, I do the sensible thing and grab another drink, throw it back and look around, seeing even more Syndicate members from California, Seattle and Chicago and go to say hello.

I grab my next glass of wine when I make my way over to Leo, an Elder in the California chapter and his son, Rudolfo, who is now eighteen and set to graduate high school, attending RMU in the fall of next year when John is standing on a small stage the string quartet is gently playing. Everyone stops and stares at the Elder, a low hush is heard and then he grins, letting us know Raven has decided to play and entertain us for the evening.

I couldn’t think of anything more fucking ghastly than the little dead bitch, who looks delectable, of course, putting on a show for us.

She looks surprised though when she reaches for a glass of wine, throws it back in one gulp and reaches up to kiss Jonas. I swear to God I see her lips moving but she runs toward Axel and makes a quick motion of her hands. He sets his glass of wine on a tray passing by and they both run up the stairs with Jonas saying, “They need a moment to get ready.”

They come down not five minutes later, Axel with his guitar that he plugs into a portable amp and Raven with a black binder. She opens it up, passing sheet music out, and my wife finds me.

“I guess I see why you’d go for the daughter.” She hums, taking a sip of water from a crystal tumbler, jealousy in her tone.

I don’t say anything. I don’t feel like arguing. I just let myself relax and watch the show. It’s good. But they’ve always played good together. Axel with his guitar, looking like a pretentious rock star in his suit and Raven in black, her arms poised and ready.

Her eyes rove over the crowd and find mine, and I tip back my drink, grabbing another.

Her lips lift at the corners, and my heart stammers in my chest.

Does she know?

“Are you okay? You look a little blotchy.”

“Yeah, it’s just warm in here.” I tell my wife, clearing my throat. I throw back the wine again to clear it out and loosen my tie as much as I can without it being less than pristine. “Fuck, I think the wine is getting to me. Do you think you could drive the Aston?”

“Christ, Simon, again? You’re always so worried about my tongue, but your drinking is getting out of control.”

“What’s out of control again is your fucking mouth.” My stomach gurgles. Fuck. “Let’s go.”

“We just got here! I want to enjoy the party!”

I grab her by the elbow and use a little force to get her to start moving. “Did you touch anything that had strawberries?” I ask.

“What? No. I haven’t even eaten and there aren’t strawberries by the buffet.”

My stomach grumbles loudly again. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll drop you off then come back. There’s a few friends I want to talk to here.”

By the time we get to the coat closet to grab ours, I’m clenching my asshole. We’re five minutes away when I shit myself so hard it goes up my back and Clarissa screams, then vomits over my steering wheel at the stench, gagging but doing her best to keep her eyes on the road. But I’m worried about other things, such as my throat is closing up and my vision is blurry and I’m fucking itchy everywhere. We reach our house in minutes, the tires screeching in the driveway, and I’m leaping, trying to get the front door open in a panic.

I can feel my eyes closing at the sides, I’m going to fucking die in the foyer of the house I grew up in. Images of Raven’s smirk, the holiday lights behind her, wind around my brain.

“Get my epi pen!” I rasp out, but it comes out guttural. I can’t fucking breathe. My heart feels like it’s seizing. Oh god, I can’t-

“I have one in my purse!” My thoughtful, beautiful wife says.

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