Vic Vaughn is Vicious

“Maybe we should change her clothes?” Ronnie offers. “She looks like a…”

“She looks like a princess,” Spencer says. Then he walks over to me, claps me on the back, and says. “You did good, Vic. I never thought I’d see the day, but she’s a keeper.”

I push him away. “No, we’re not changing her clothes. They already have pics of us in leathers.” God, I am dumb. I glare at Spencer. “This is all your fault.”

He screws up his face. “How the hell do you figure?”

“You have all these little blonde girls who look alike. How am I supposed to keep them straight?”

“Well, they don’t look like me, you dumbass. How do you think I felt when I met Ronnie and she had four brothers who looked just like you? And two of them are twins!”

“OK, that’s enough,” Ronnie says. “Spencer, you drive them. I’ll stay here with the kids and gossip on the phone with Ashleigh and Rook about how stupid my oldest brother is.”

“Thanks for your support, Ronnie. Fuck! Who was there for you when the FBI tried to put the whole gang of you in prison? Huh? Who was there for you when Sasha turned out to be an underworld assassin? Me, that’s who!”

“OK, that’s enough of that,” Spencer says. “Little ears…”

“Right.” I look down at Vivi and smile. “We’re not bad people. We’re just a little complicated.”

Vivi appears to be elated. “Can we still get my fish tomorrow?”

“We’ll see, sis. I think I need to have a talk with your mother first.” Speaking of. “Daisy. Why don’t I remember a Daisy? Isn’t it still possible Vivi’s not mine? And she just… looks like us?”

“No.” Ronnie and Spencer say it at the same time.

Veronica points her finger at me. “She’s yours, Vic. Vinn, Vonn, and Vann are all fun, happy men. They are all marriage material. Girls swoon over them. They would not hide a pregnancy from them. You…” She shakes her head. “You scare people, Vic. And your real name is Vicious. Most people can’t get past that.”

“Like that’s my fault?”

“Whoever Daisy is, she hates you. So you better not be a dick when you get to the station.”

I laugh. Some random chick from my past gets pregnant with my kid and hides her from me for six years and now I might be looking at prison time because our child is a tiny sleuthing genius and I am the one at risk for being a dick?

Am I not allowed to be angry about this?

“I can hear your thoughts,” Ronnie says.

“They’re loud, dude,” Spencer adds.

“What?”

Veronica narrows her eyes at me. “Do not. Be a dick.”

I sigh. “Fine. I’ll be nice to the bitch.”

Vivi laughs. But Ronnie doesn’t. “If you talk bad about her m-o-t-h-e-r in front of h-e-r again. I will k-i-c-k you in the b-a-l-l-s. Got it, bro?”

I glance at Spencer, but he’s got his hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me, man.”

So I look back at Ronnie and bow my head in shame. “I got it.”

She bends down to Vivi and says, “It was very nice to meet you, Vivian. We’re gonna be friends. I can’t wait to see you again. You will have to come over and play with all your cousins when your mommy’s not busy.” Then she pats her on the head, walks up the porch stairs, and shoos her kids back inside.

I look at Spencer. He shrugs. “It’s a steep learning curve, but you’ll get used to it.”

“I’ll get used to being bossed around like a”—I glance at Vivi—“p-u-s-s-y-whipped a-s-s-h-o-l-e?”

Spencer just smiles. “Dude, you have no idea what’s coming.” Then he laughs all the way over to his truck.

Vivi and I look at each other. She beams up at me. “I had fun today.”

“I’m glad. But you know we’re in trouble, right?”

She nods. “I’m gonna cover for you, don’t worry.” She walks towards the truck. But then she stops and turns. “Oh. And… I know how to spell.” She giggles. “Pussywhipped. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds funny.”

I am so going to prison for this.

CHAPTER EIGHT - DAISY

I pace the length of the small substation office impatiently. The sheriff and the deputy in charge of this place are behind the post office counter just shootin’ the shit like this is no big deal.

“How much longer?” I blurt this out and everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at me. “I mean, shouldn’t you be out there picking him up?” This seems like common sense to me. But when Vic Vaughn’s lawyer called a little while ago, he said Vic was turning himself in. “Since when does the criminal get to pick how he gets arrested?”

“Miss Lundin,” the sheriff begins. He’s annoyed with me, I can tell. He’s very sure that Vic is Vivi’s father and this is just a huge inconvenience as far as he’s concerned. “His lawyer says he’s on his way. Which means we can’t do anything until the lawyer gets here. I’m sure your ex is under a strict no-talking rule.”