Vic Vaughn is Vicious by J.A. Huss

CHAPTER TWO - VIC

The princess is practically trotting to keep up with me as we walk down the alley. “I thought you said we weren’t going to church.”

“We’re not.” I take her hand so we can cross the street in front of Saint Joseph’s. “Mass doesn’t start for another two hours. But you know what they have here in the gym on Sunday mornings?”

Princess shakes her head.

“Shitty coffee from that cart on the CSU campus. But they get the donuts from Anna Ameci’s. So we can deal with the shitty coffee, right?”

“Mmm. I really want a donut.”

“They are so good. And the best part is that we don’t have to wait in line.” The Ameci’s bakery is packed on Sundays. You can’t get near that place until everyone is in church, and by then, all the good shit is gone. Princess and I finish crossing the street and enter the playground near the back entrance. “OK. So here’s the deal. In order to get the free Anna Ameci’s donuts without having to wait in line, we gotta attend a meeting.”

“What kind of meeting?” She’s subtly dragging me over to the swings and I let her. Because fuck it, if I gotta spend the day with her, I’m gonna make it one to remember.

She sits on a swing and I start pushing her. “It’s…” I sigh. “It’s just people talking. You don’t have to talk. And I’m not fucking talking either. We just grab our coffee and donuts, have a seat and listen to these people talk while we eat, then at the break, we grab another donut and hit the road. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

I stop the swing. “OK, let’s hit it. I’m hungry.”

She doesn’t complain and that’s nice. Usually my nieces are loud and bossy. I like the new quiet model.

Inside the gym, the AA meeting is just getting started. “Here.” I point to the donut spread. “It’s a good one today. They even have cannolis. Which one do you like?”

“Excuse me?”

I turn to find a middle-aged lady staring up at me, tapping her heel. “Yeah?”

“You can’t bring children to your meeting.”

“It’s not my meeting, lady. She’s the one who needs it.”

Princess giggles, getting my sarcasm. I kinda love that too. When was the last time I watched one of my nieces? It’s been a while. She seems so mature. Even though she can’t be more than five or six.

“You’re disgusting, Vic Vaughn.”

“Nice to see you again too, whoever the fuck you are.” Everyone knows who I am. The Vaughn family has been the bane of the downtown Fort Collins business district since the Sixties. They hate us. And we own a huge mansion right on Mountain Avenue where all the rich fucks live, so we’re just everywhere. My gramps won the house in a poker game back in the day. It’s massive. One of the biggest mansions in the area. But it’s a lot of house to keep up with so for most of my childhood, it’s been a falling-down mess. I’ve been trying my best to fix it up over the past few years—hence the side job up in the mountains—but it is still very much a work in progress.

“You can’t bring your kid here, Vic.”

I’m just putting a scrumptious cream-filled donut onto a little paper plate when that voice stops me cold.

I narrow my eyes and turn. “Alexa. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been in recovery for ten years. How do you not know that? We dated for almost nine months before you ghosted on me.”

I look down at Princess. “We didn’t date. She stalked me. And it wasn’t ghosting if we weren’t dating.”

“You’re a piece of work, you know that? You smell like a brewery. Get the hell out of here, Vic.”

“You can’t kick people out of an AA meeting, Alexa.”

“I can, and I will. I’m the meeting chair. You’re only here for our donuts.” She looks down at Princess. “He’s a bad example. Your mother should be ashamed of herself, letting him take care of you.”

“OK, that’s enough.” I grab another donut, put it on a plate, and hand it to Princess. “Come on. Let’s go get some real coffee.”

“Thief,” Alexa hisses. “One of these days, Vic Vaughn, your past will catch up to you.”

I just ignore her and lead the niece back out onto the playground. “Don’t let her ruin your day. She’s just bitter. She had her mid-life crisis last year and decided I was gonna be her boy toy. It’s kinda dumb, actually, since she’s not that much older than me. She probably wanted Uncle Vann, but if Alexa made a move on Vann, Belinda would kick his ass. Doncha think?”

Princess looks up at me. Her mouth is filled with donut, so she can’t talk, but she nods her agreement.

“Wanna get some coffee? I could use some coffee. The Bohemian Poet’s House has the best coffee in downtown and my friend Bettina works the AM shift on weekends. You wanna hit that place up?”

Princess nods again, still shoving that giant donut into her mouth.

“Cool.” We take a side street down to Laurel, then turn right. The BPH is the second place on the left. Prime real estate. Right across the street from Colorado State University. “What’s your opinion on downtown, Princess? You like it? Or do you prefer the farm?”

Princess makes a pouty face as she takes in the downtown area. “The farm.”

“Yeah? I both love and hate living just off campus from a major university. On the one hand, there is always a party. On the other, there is always a party. But college kids, man. They love their tattoos. One day, though, I’m gonna get a little piece of land like the farm. Not west, though. I’m going east. The mountains are cool, but I like the open grassland. What do you think? Mountains or open space?”

“Does the open space have fires?”

“Nah. Not really.”

“Then open. I don’t like the fires.”

“Yeah. Fires suck. That one last year was bad.”

Princess nods. “The air was so smoky and it was hard to breathe.”

“Hmm.” This is probably a bad topic for kids. Maybe it scares her to talk about the fire? It came pretty close to their farmhouse. Spencer and Ronnie had to evacuate all the ponies to the campground in Nebraska when that fire happened last summer. They stayed up there for weeks. It was a shitshow.

I decide to end this line of thinking on a positive note, just as I open the door to the BPH. “But this year will be better. You’ll see. We had lots of snow and rain. We’re not gonna have another fire like that, so don’t think about it.”

“OK,” the princess says.

Yeah. She’s different. Quiet and a little more introspective than I remember Ronnie’s kids being. I’m still not sure which princess she is. Definitely not the Little Mermaid. She’s the bossy one. But she’s kinda short to be the other ones, isn’t she?

“Anyway,” I say, jolting myself out of my thoughts. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

We get in line and she takes my hand and looks up at me. “What kind do you like?”

“Black.”

“I’ll have black too.”

“You will?”

She nods.

“OK. You’re not gonna like it though.”

“I think I will.”

I shrug, then order us coffee and chitchat with Bettina. I flirt with her a little, but only a little. We dated back in the day, but it was bad. We’re much better as friends and she and I both know that.

Princess and I take our coffee outside and I watch her face as she takes a sip. She’s just about to spit it out when she looks up at me and forces a smile. “Mmm.”

I laugh out loud. “You’re a little tiny liar.”

“I like it.”

“You hate it.”

“It’s delicious.” She puts the cup up to her lips and tips the cup. But I can tell she’s not drinking.

“OK. If you say so.”

A college kid walks up and thrusts a flier at me. “Art show tonight, Vic. You should stop by.”

I take the flier. “Who the hell are you?”

“You tatted me up last semester. Remember? Dragon mouth armpit?”

I almost spit out my coffee. “The dumbest tattoo ever.”

His face goes solemn. “You should’ve stopped me.”

“Dude. Not my job. I’m not your fucking father. Your mistakes are none of my business.”

He points at me. “It was a dick move. I was wasted.”

“You were not wasted. We do not tat up drunk assholes in my shop.”

“I ate like seven edibles before I came in, man.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know you were on edibles?”

He thinks about this, then shrugs. “Fine.” He nods at the flier. “Come down to the art building at noon. You’ll like this exhibit.”

I look down at the paper and read the headline out loud. “‘Tattoos as Art in the New Century.’ Well, fuck.” I look up at him. “How come no one asked me to be in this show?”

He shrugs again. “Take it up with Professor Lancaster. She’s running it.”

“Professor?” I scoff. “That bitch is a professor now? Unbelievable.”

The kid side-eyes me. “You two know each other?”

“Know her? I practically grew up with her. I cannot believe she went all legit and shit. She comes from a biker family. Her father is in prison for armed robbery.”

“Hmm.” The kid looks disturbed at my revelations. But then he shrugs it off. “Well, she’s over in the art building right now setting up. Maybe she’ll make room for you?”

I think about this for a moment, then nod. “Yeah. Maybe she will.” Then I look down at the princess. “You wanna walk over to the art building?”

Princess nods, so amicable this morning.

“Cool.” I give the artsy kid a little salute, then lead my niece over to the light and we cross the street.

The art building is all the way across campus, but it’s a nice morning, still cool from the overnight lows, so Princess and I just take our sweet time. We stop at the student center and I take the full coffee cup off her hands and grab her an orange juice instead. She just smiles at me.

Yep. I like this one. Whichever kid this is, she’s pretty cool.

After we get her a new drink, we continue our stroll. There’s a ton of shit going on at CSU this morning, even though it’s still summer and fall semester won’t even start for another three weeks. Probably getting close to move-in day, which means there will be non-stop parties pretty soon.

By the time we enter the art building, I’ve finished my coffee and I’ve got to piss. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Sit down on that bench and don’t wander.”

She nods and sits, then starts rummaging through her backpack for something.

I hit the bathroom, come back out, and fully expect my niece to be missing. But there she is, acting all obedient and shit, coloring in her sketchbook.

I walk over to her and point at it. “That sketchbook looks familiar. It was your mom’s?”

Princess nods.

And now I’m curious and I want to look at it. “Lemme see it.” She offers it up and I’m reaching for it when from behind me comes a voice.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

I turn and find Professor Lucille Lancaster standing in front of me looking like an uptight bitch in a suit, arms crossed over her breasts, severe scowl on her face. “Hey, Luce. How’s it going?” I ask.

“How’s it going?” She scoffs. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not here to see you. Well, I kinda am. Some kid gave me this flier.” I reach into my pocket and flash her the flier. “Tattoo art? And you didn’t invite me? What the actual fuck?”

She glances over at Princess, then back at me. “Nice mouth, Vic.”

“She’s related to me, Lucille. She’s heard the word ‘fuck’ eleventy-billion times by now. And don’t try to change the subject.” I thrust the flier at her. “I’m a local artist who is semi-famous. This”—I shake the flier—“is my thing. And you couldn’t bother to ask me to include a few photographs for this show?”

“It’s for students and alumni,” she sneers.

“I’m an alumnus! I went here for five years!”

“No, Vic. The definition of alumnus is one who actually graduates. You never did.”

“Oh, my God. Really? That’s your excuse?”

She taps the toe of her high-heeled shoe. “What do you want?”

“I want to be included. I have been in the industry magazines hundreds of times. Sick Boyz is a regional treasure! And come on! You put on a show about ink as art and you don’t get any of the most talented locals to exhibit?”

“First of all”—she holds up a finger—“Sick Boyz is an eyesore. I have no idea what kind of extortion gig you’re pulling on the owner of that building to make him rent that space to you, but trust me on this… no one in Fort Collins would be sad if Sick Boyz closed up shop tomorrow. Your family has been terrorizing locals for almost a century.”

Princess snorts and I look down at her. “Right?” We both laugh.

“Second”—Lucille is not done yet—“I have nine local tattoo artists exhibiting.”

“Oh, really? Nine of them?” I know which nine. I’ve lived in this town my whole life. I went to this school. I know all the other ink artists worth knowing in a two-hundred-mile radius. “If they are CSU alumni, they went there because of me.”

“Wrong,” Luce says. “They do not care about you, Vic. They all came because of a Vaughn sibling, that’s true. But that sibling was Veronica, not you.”

“Speaking of! How come Ronnie’s not in your stupid show, hmm?”

Luce laughs and points to a life-size cardboard cutout of Veronica. Naked. But painted to look like Elvis.

“You included Spencer?” He’s the one who did her body painting. “He isn’t even a tattoo artist!”

“No, but he custom-paints bikes.” Then she snickers. “And bodies. It’s practically the same thing.”

“It’s not even close.”

“My point is, Vic”—she is so done with me—“you’re not in the show. We have all the artists who are worthy.”

“You’re just bitter,” I say. “Bitter because I was never interested in you—”

She wails out a high-pitched scoff. “Never!” But she is aghast. “You cheated on me!” Then her eyes flit down to Princess, like maybe she knows she’s crossing a line, but then she rallies again. “That’s it. I’m calling security if you don’t get off campus right now. You’re dangerous. Are you carrying, Vic?” She actually eyeballs my pants to see if I’ve got a gun in my pocket.

I point at her. “You’re nuts. And that’s Spencer, by the way. The gun freak? That’s him. Make sure you pat him down at the door when he shows up to gloat about his nonexistent tattoo skills.”

“Oh, really? That’s him? Hmm. He’s not the one who has a little side business going on up in the Poudre Valley now, is he?”

I squint at her. How the fuck does she know about that?

“Oh, yes,” she hisses. “I know all about your new little business, Vicious Vaughn. Don’t you remember who I am?”

Oh, I remember. That’s why this whole ‘professor’ thing is such a joke. She comes from a biker family too. And not the downtown kind, either.

She’s still talking when I start to pay attention again. “—and I would highly suggest that you get the hell out of my building and be on your way. Because if you don’t, I will let everyone know how you’ve been making extra money to fix up that decrepit house of yours. That place should be condemned. Did you know that the mayor is my husband now?” She actually flashes the diamond at me. Like I give a fuck. “I wonder if that mansion of yours is up to code? Have you been getting your permits and inspections, Vic?” She bats her eyelashes at me.

“You bitch. You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

“Come on, Princess.” I extend my hand out to my niece. She hurriedly shoves her notebook into her backpack and takes my hand. “Let’s go. We’re gonna put on our own tattoo art exhibit. And it’s gonna be a helluva lot better than this shitty shindig.”

We turn and walk back towards the door.

“Nice language, Vic!” Luce calls after me. “I hope you never become a father. You’d be the worst.”

I raise my middle finger up over my head as we exit.

“She’s not very nice, is she?”

I look down at the princess. I want to agree with her. I want to tell her all the little things I know about Lucille Lancaster from back in the day. All her inappropriate behavior back in college. But it’s probably a bad idea to vent to a little kid. So I just shut up and start heading back towards home.

I’m really tired now. The whole all-nighter thing is starting to catch up to me.

“Can we really put on our own art exhibit?”

I look down at my niece. “Fuck yeah, we can. And we’ll get way more people. To hell with Spencer. Don’t tell your mom I said that. In fact, don’t even mention this to her.”

“But will the artists want to come to our show if they’re doing this one?”

“Hmm. That’s a good question. We’ll need different talent, for sure.” I point at her. “I have connections in Key West.”

“Where’s that?”

“You know. Belinda’s home town. That place where she and Vann are always visiting. She knows everyone down there. I bet they have some cool talent down there.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Can I be in the show?”

We stop walking at the corner of Pitkin and Meridian. “You wanna be in the show?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. “Don’t you fucking dare say that shit in front of your mom. She will murder me.”

“If you let me be in the show, I won’t.”

“Sneaky little shit, aren’t you?”

She smiles.

“Well, I can’t let just anyone in. I’ll need to see your portfolio.”

“My portfolio?”

“Mmhm. I need to see examples. Like your sketchbook. Let me see it.”

She takes her backpack off, opens it up, and she’s just about to pull out her sketchbook and show it to me when a horn honks behind us and she jumps.

“Viiiiiiiiic!” the deep voice calls. “Vicious! Hey! Just the guy I was looking for!”