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Our driver stands by my door to block it and wait for my signal, because although the windows are tinted black, it’s not above some of those assholes outside to just open the door and start clicking.
“Yeah, I’m ready.” She turns to me with nervous eyes. “Are you? I mean, this is your night. Are you nervous?”
“No, this doesn’t make me nervous. It’s just my job. I get to take my wife and family out for a fancy dinner, and it doesn’t cost me a cent. Winner winner, five hundred dollar a plate dinner.”
She snorts inelegantly. “You sound so cheap right now.”
She’s still deflecting. Alright, I can take a hint.
“Come here babe, give me a kiss. Fix your lipstick, then we’ll go in.”
Her eyes snap to the mirror in alarm. “What’s wrong with my lipstick?”
“Nothing yet. But I wanna mess it up.” I pull her closer and begin nibbling on her lips. I intend to suck every last bit of lipstick off before I’m done. That’s when I know she’ll be relaxed. That’s when I’ll be relaxed. That’s when we’ll be able to face the vultures only feet away from us.
After she fixes her makeup one last time, I tap the window, and our driver immediately turns and opens the door. “Sir.” Cameras flash and blind us in the early evening light, but once I’m in view, the noise and lights increase tenfold.
“Bobby! Bobby Kincaid… How are you feeling? Are you ready for the fight?”
“Kincaid, is it true you forfeited last year because you weren’t ready? Were you scared?”
“Was your girlfriend really in a coma, or was that story fabricated as a way to get out of the fight? Tony’s camp say you were running scared.”
“Catherine Reilly!” They go crazy as soon as her hand emerges from the car and latches onto mine. She places her heeled feet on the curb, and I pull her to stand, tuck her arm through mine, and hold her shaking body close to my side.
“Catherine! Will you comment on the rumors of Bobby’s promiscuity?”
“Catherine, how do you feel about playing step-mom to Bobby and Katarina Belenova’s baby?”
What the fuck are they talking about?
Kit’s shining eyes snap to mine. I could murder these fucking assholes. I don’t even know who the fuck Katarina Belenova is, and I certainly don’t have a child with anyone. Legitimate or otherwise.
“Catherine, is it true you had a sexual relationship with John Timms?”
My eyes shoot to the man who asked that question and send his brave ass shrinking back. I have murder on the brain, and I wouldn’t even be sorry.
“Is it true you had a sexual relationship, a ménage, so to speak, with Mr. Timms and Christopher McArden? Is it true that was the catalyst to last year’s altercation?”
“Of course not!” she snaps.
I feel like if I don’t get Kit out of here this second, she might actually collapse from the pressure of these vultures. I know who every one of them are, and I intend to put them in a media blackout. They will not speak to my wife like that and still expect to make money off of me. They’ll be escorted out of here as soon as we get inside, and they’ll be banned from the fight next week. You fuck with me or mine, and I’ll fuck you over a hundred times worse.
Kit shakes so violently against me, every instinct in my body demands I pick her up and carry her away, but she wouldn’t like that. That’s not who she is.
“Catherine! What of your relationship with Jimmy Kincaid? Is that why you arrived separately? Have you caused a rift between the once close brothers?”
“Kit! Will you confirm or deny your sexual relationship with your brother-in-law?”
I swear, I can feel steam escape my ears, but she doesn’t cower. She continues to shake, but she lifts herself up. Lifted chin. Perfect posture. And with an evil smile, she nods. “That one’s true. He’s such a sweetheart, too. Now if you’ll excuse us, I have to go find my baby daddy.” Lifting her arm as though in slow motion, she smirks at the reporter and raises one single finger. The middle finger. Her wedding ring shines brightly and flashes and twinkles back at them every time theyclick, click, click.She’s giving the nation the rude finger. And she announced a baby scandal with my little brother.Fuck me.I hold her arm tight and lead her past the hordes of assholes and into the mostly empty foyer.
I’m going to frame that picture – article about my brother’s baby and all – and I’m adding it to my wall. My dad would get a kick out of that one.
Dragging her through the doors, as soon as they close, I turn. “Kit!”
She bursts out laughing and leans heavily against me. “I’m sorry! It was too easy.”
“Are you pregnant with my niece or nephew?”
