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There is music on the jukebox and a weird lack of Wild Hawks. A few are dotted here and there, but they look awkward. The overwhelming presence is sobbing groupies.
“I’ll get the drinks,” Shelley announces, crossing the floor to the bar as Viper leads me across the room, away from the groupies. Sinking into the couch, he draws me onto his lap, stroking his fingers through my hair. I rest my head against him, ignoring the pricking feeling of the hateful, angry looks the groupies are shooting me.
“They’ll get over it. They got over Julianna,” Viper murmurs into my ear. I turn to him in surprise.
“Who is Julianna?”
“Exactly.”
I don't know what that means, but it’s comforting. Across at the bar, Vicky has joined Shelley, laughing and chatting with Trent, the bartender.
Sighing, I absently stroke Viper’s arm, my eyes resting on the unused pool table closest to us. It’s a pity Joey had her accident right as she started a new life. She might have been happy in Phoenix. I don’t know how happy she was here. Joey seemed to enjoy her life, but she was very bitter.
Maybe being away from San Remo and me would have been good for her. And, a little selfishly, it would have been nice for me to have her gone – without beinggone. It sucks that she didn’t at least get a chance. It was very big of Viper not to demand retribution of some kind… oh shit.
Turning my head, my lips brush his ear. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?”
Viper stiffens beneath me, which tells me all I need to know. My blood feels icy in my veins. Oh my god.
“She’s dead because of me?” my voice is small and squeaky. Viper’s head whips around, his forehead pressing against mine as our eyes burn together.
“No. Don’t think like that. Joey hurt a few of the old ladies. This was just the final straw. She was already on borrowed time.”
“So… if I had never come here after Mama’s funeral…?”
Viper’s face is full of compassion. “It would have been something else. It wasn’t in Joey’s nature to leave things alone.”
No. It wasn’t. My skin is itching where he is touching me. I have to know. I kind of don’t want to. But I have to know.
“Okay. Was it you?”
“No.”
Relief courses through me. Thank god. “Okay. Did you want it to be you?”
He hesitates, swallowing, his fingers tightening where they are holding me.
“Yes,” he whispers quietly. “She almost took you away from me. Anything could have happened to you.”
His voice is filled with pain. I know it’s dark, but how he felt about Joey came from a good place. A place of caring for me. I can’t be upset about that.
“I’m safe now.”
“I know. That’s why I was okay with it not being me.”
Nodding, I turn to smile at Vicky and Shelley as they hand us our drinks, sinking onto the sofa beside us.
Nance and Shanna, heavily dressed in black with veils, shoot me looks of pure venom as they cross to the bar, climbing on it and calling the room's attention as they start their speeches. Vicky was sent as a go-between to tell me that I could speak, but it wouldn’t be welcomed. I declined. I think we’re all happy with the outcome.
A blonde woman I haven’t seen before is running between the sobbing groupies, fetching drinks.
“What’s she doing here?” Shelley asks Vicky, who smirks.
“Lana Houston? She’s a new groupie. She’s gotta earn her stripes running lackey.”
“How fun for her.”
“Eh. We all did it.”
