Page 40 of The Ring Thief
I stare at her, finding it interesting that she’d need to tell me all this after she sent all those messages when we first got back, making sure I thought she and Dec were already together.
“That you’re a crazy bitch?” I ask. “He already knows that.”
Justin comes back in, two fresh coffees in his hands. He hands meone, checking out the photos in my hand. “Is that…?” Shock widens his eyes. “What in the stalker-y fuck?” He looks up at Silvia, his mouth set grimly.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, dropping the photos to the floor. “Silvia’s just concerned that I brought a random hookup home. She’s off to tell my husband.”
He blinks, pointing a finger at his chest. “Me?” he asks. “I’m the hookup?” I nod. “Huh. Well, guess you got lucky then,” he tells me. “I make a fine-ass hookup. Any lady would be lucky to have me.” He thinks for a second. “Dudes, too.”
“You’re a five-star hookup?”
“Hell yeah. And I’ve got the reviews to prove it.”
Silvia’s stare is bouncing between us, getting wider, but it doesn’t take long before she’s had enough of our banter, interjecting sharply. “I hope you used a condom, because I can’t imagine who else she’s slept with recently.”
“I always use protection,” he says, unconcerned. “Those pictures in sex-ed were horrifying.” Silvia gapes at him and I cover my mouth with my mug, hiding my smile as Justin loses interest and retreats to the couch.
I look back at Silvia. “Did you want something else?”
“Wha—?” She stares at me. “Didn’t you hear what I said?” she demands. “I’m not bluffing. I will tell Declan about this.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“He’s going to divorce you.” Each word is more shrill than the last, and I wince.
“Do you mind?” I ask politely. “The screeching is hurting my ears.”
She splutters, face turning a splotchy red. She flicks a glance down at the photos. “You can keep those. I have copies. Consider them mementos of your whorish ways. After all, they’re all you’ll have left when Declan finally leaves you.”
I give her a pitying smile. “And what? Marries you? He’s known you his entire life, and never once given you a second look. You’re delusional, Silvia.” I let out a soft laugh. “Me, though? He’s about to throw everything away for me.”
She goes eerily still. “What’re you talking about? He wouldn’t—”An ugly twist to her mouth and then she pushes into my personal space, trying to intimidate me. I don’t feel anything, though, except a concerning clench of my gut. “You’re a lying little bitch! He wouldn’t throw a piece of trash out for you!”
My nose twitches. “Do you want a breath mint? I’d offer you a spare toothbrush, but I wouldn’t want to invite a vampire into my house.”
She lets out a scream of rage, spinning on her heels and clomping off my porch. I watch her go, giving her a cheeky wave. When she peels away with a squeal of her tires, I shut the door and lock it.
I collapse next to Justin, who’s sitting with his head back and arm thrown over his eyes. He groans when my weight jostles him, mumbling, “Way too early for a crazy bitch visit.”
I poke a finger into his side. “Thought you didn’t get hungover,” I tease.
“I don’t,” he returns easily. “I’m just studying my eyelids.”
Thirty minutes later, when Justin’s sure he won’t blow chunks just by moving, he catches a ride home, telling me I need to give him the lowdown on the ‘stalker bitch’ when he’s got more blood than booze in his system. I seize the opportunity to head back to bed, napping for several hours until I wake up feeling more human.
I’ve just stepped out of the shower and gotten dressed in my comfy clothes, when there’s a brisk knock on the door. I curse grumpily. “Why’s everyone visiting when I feel like death?” I mumble to myself, heading to the door and cracking it open cautiously.
“Oh,” I say, pointing out dumbly. “You’re not Silvia.”
“I should fucking hope not,” Declan’s dark eyes flash down at me, and then he’s gently manhandling me inside so he can step through the door, shutting it behind him. He tugs on a strand of my wet hair. “You still smell like you could be used as an accelerant.”
“It’s seeping out of my pores,” I complain. “I’m not drinking again in a hurry.” I pause, thinking about that. “I’m not drinking with Sasha again in a hurry.”
“You can’t always blame Sasha for overindulging.”
“Yes, I can,” I mumble back. “She’s always there when I do it.”
He smiles indulgently, and my chest aches, the encounter remindingme too much of how things had been before. The smile falls away, his mouth setting firmly.
