Page 25 of Viper
Spending the evening with my dad sounds like a good plan to me, and hopefully, he can help bring me out of my funk, which has gotten worse since last night.
“Sure, Daddy, that sounds good to me,” I answer him, and he chuckles, “Perfect, dinner is at five.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then, love you,” I say, and he replies, “Love you too, pumpkin,” before he hangs up, and I swallow hard, the chirpiness gone.
I can feel myself slipping.
I’m barely sleeping, just scraping by in school, the classes now overwhelming me, along with the stress of everything else. With the club and Viper, the lawsuit, and I’m not eating properly.
The anger I felt at how he spoke to me, how he accused me of crap, and lied about being a brother, is gone, and in its place is pain and heartbreak that is swallowing me whole.
I feel like I’ve lost half of myself.
“One black coffee and a vanilla latte,” the cashier says, and I reply, “Thank you,” as I pick the cups up and turn to leave as the door to the café opens.
My stomach tightens seeing the ring girl walk in wearing a tiny crop top and high-waisted shorts that show off her ass cheeks. Her hair is half up and curled, her makeup is on point, and of course, she’s tanned.
She’s pretty.
Damn.
Taking a deep breath, I continue my trek to the door, passing them as the girl gloats, “I’m telling you, Cassy, it was amazing. I walked into his office, undressed before laying on top of his desk and without a word, he bent over me and licked my pussy so goddamn good,” and I scrunch my nose up in distaste.
Ugh, vulgar much?
Wait…
My breathing picks up, realizing who she may be talking about, and I plead, ‘Don’t be Viper, don’t be Viper…’ but my pleas aren’t answered as the girl Cassy says, “I thought Viper had a girl?”
The woman snorts, “No, he doesn’t they were just rumors, and I’m telling you, I can’t wait for tonight.”
Tears brim, and I quickly rush out of the door before I can hear anymore, leaving the last piece of my shattered heart behind me.
Guess he has moved on, huh?
I walk over to the rig, trying to control my breathing before I climb in, handing Callum his coffee, which he groans, “You’re a fucking godsend,” and I snort, hiding my pain.
My heartbreak is probably getting old for people now, especially when everyone seems to think I need to get over the crap said between Viper and me and give things another go. So I’m trying not to show it. I haven’t spoken to the girls in the past two days either.
“You’ve got to stop staying up so late,” I joke before I take a sip of my latte, and he grins as he replies, “But the blonde was really good at head…”
Seriously?
I scrunch my nose up in distaste and admit, “I could have gone my whole life not knowing that Callum, especially from a guy I see as a brother.”
He laughs before our radio crackles and dispatch calls, “This is dispatch, a man in his eighties has fallen down some concrete steps and is unconscious on Butchers Elm.”
Crap.
“This is 8921, copy that, ETA Five minutes,” I reply, putting my mouth to my device on top as I place my coffee in its cup holder and Callum mutters, “Here we go again.”
Putting the rig in drive, he activates the sirens and speeds off from the curb. Everything in my mind silences, just as it always does when I work —my pain, my past, the lawsuit all disappear.
Let’s hope this guy doesn’t try to sue me as well…
***
I stretch before climbing out of my truck, then sigh, looking at the home I grew up in six hours later, the flower boxes underneath the window sills full like always.
