Vic Vaughn is Vicious by J.A. Huss

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - DAISY

I call in sick on Tuesday for work and do not add any extra shifts to my schedule. Not because I don’t need them, but because I can barely think straight. I can’t work. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can barely manage to bathe myself, that’s how messed up I am over what’s happening.

And I have to hide it. All of it.

I can’t let Vivi see me falling apart.

So when she’s here, I have to pretend like Lucille Lancaster isn’t threatening to steal my child. But when she’s not—when she’s outside or asleep—all I want to do is cry.

But now it’s Thursday and I’m afraid to call in sick again.

So I go in. And it’s like everyone knows what’s happening to me. They are all sympathetic and sweet. And two of them take my and Carla’s tables so we can sit in the back and have a chat, so that’s nice.

But nothing can make me feel better. I can’t even look Carla in the eyes.

“Sweetie?” she says.

I take a deep breath and let it out. “I’m OK.”

“No. You’re not. You should go home. Go pick up Vivian and go home.”

“I can’t afford to lose another day of tips. I need the money. Vivi needs school clothes and the babysitter…” And then this terrible, awful, hideous thought pops into my mind. “Well. Maybe that’s not even true. Because if Vivian gets taken from me, I won’t have to pay for school clothes or school supplies. Lucille Lancaster will undoubtedly get some kind of state check for her trouble and probably use it to turn her against me.”

Carla reaches across the table and slaps my hand. “Stop it. No one is stealing Vivian. You’re a great mother—”

“Except for that one time when I didn’t notice she was missing for five hours!”

“Every parent makes mistakes, Daisy. My oldest, Jasper? He rolled off the bed when he was a newborn. I was convinced I gave him brain damage. He graduated from MIT twenty-seven years ago. And Ellen? My middle girl? I once forgot her at the grocery store. She was on one of those pony rides outside the supermarket. I was trying to wrangle the other four kids into my piece-of-shit car and Ellen was crying about… whatever. So I dropped a bunch of dimes in her dress pocket and told her to have at it.” She shrugs. “Yeah. I forgot her there. I drove all the way home and unloaded the car before I realized. When I got back to the grocery store, she was still riding that freaking pony. Didn’t even know.”

I can’t help it. I smile. “That never happened.”

“Honey, this was the 70’s. We kicked our kids out of the house at eight AM and didn’t even bother to wonder where they were until it got dark. They all survived. Vivian had a great time with her father that day. She’s fine. The court is gonna see that.”

“No. You don’t understand. The court is against me. And Vic! They think he’s a terrorist.”

“Oh, pooh,” Carla says, waving her hand. “Do you have any idea how many times Gramps has been arrested for terrorism?”

“Um… none?”

“Probably none,” she admits. “But he was shooting BBs at the police two weeks ago. He’s not in prison.”

I sigh. “I think Vic is up to something though. He had a lot of cash, Carla. He bought two hundred acres.”

“Listen. Those Ameci people?” She nods her head in the direction of the Italian restaurant a couple doors down. “Now that’s a criminal family. Those Vaughn boys? They’re just… eye candy.”

I smile again. But it’s still not enough to convince me.

“Smart eye candy, Daisy. They are smart boys. There is no way Vic got caught up in some crazy militia.”

“I know that. But did you watch the news? They have footage of him driving some 007 van with giant guns inside!”

“No one believes the news.”

I side-eye her. Because her excuses are getting thinner and thinner.

“Just…” She sighs. I’m wearing her down. “Go home. I’ll cover your tables and you can have the tips.” I open my mouth to politely decline her offer, but all of a sudden Alec Steele is standing next to our booth.

“Oh.” I’m caught off guard.

“Sorry to surprise you,” he says. He’s a handsome guy. Probably early thirties. Very nice suit. Stupid expensive watch. Slicked-back blond hair and light-brown eyes. He directs those eyes over to Carla. “Do you mind—”

“Oh. No problem. She needs to go home and relax. Make her do that.” Then Carla squeezes my hand, slides out of the booth, and disappears up front where the customers are.

Alec Steele waits an appropriate number of seconds after Carla is out of sight before he starts in. “First of all, you should know that I am no longer representing Vicious Vaughn.”

“What? Why?” My heart flutters. I was counting on this guy. I figured Vic would at least have a chance. But now…

“I was…” Alec pauses. “How do I put this… Basically, I was ordered to stay the fuck away from Vicious Vaughn.”

“What do you mean? What’s that mean?”

“It means that someone very important paid me a visit at my office in Boulder.” Alec shrugs. “What can I say? I caved. He was persuasive.”

“Hold on. Did you just basically admit that some powerful person walked into your office and threatened you unless you recused yourself or something?”

“There was nothing ‘basically’ about it. I am a powerful man, Daisy. You may or may not actually believe that in this moment. Doesn’t matter. I am a powerful man. But these people aren’t fucking around. There would be no way for me to refuse them.”

“So.” I throw up my arms. “That’s just great. I’m about to lose my child to one of Vic’s vindictive, insane ex-girlfriends and you decide to quit on us. Wonderful.”

“Now, hold on there. I never said you.”

“What?”

“I’m still representing you.”

“Well, that’s also just great. I’m the one who can’t afford you.”

Alec waves a hand in the air. “Forget the money. It’s paid.”

“What do you mean? Paid by who?”

“Ford Aston. He keeps me on retainer. He gave me an original budget of ten thousand since we were pretty sure you weren’t gonna put up a fight. But this Vic charge, it’s a whole other animal.”

“Wait. You just said you weren’t representing him.”

“Daisy, you are Vic. In a sense. I’m here to protect Vic’s best interest in regards to Vivian. And his best interest includes you. Do not worry about the money.”

“Vic can’t pay you either.” Then I narrow my eyes at him. “Or can he?”

“I’ve already explained. Ford—”

“But what’s he get out of it?”

Alec narrows his eyes. “You’re unusually suspicious.”

“You would be too if the mayor’s wife threatened to steal your child because she thinks you stole her boyfriend seven years ago.”

Alec rubs two fingers against his temple. Like I’m giving him a headache. “I’m going to need you to start from the beginning. And when I say beginning, I mean… seven years ago beginning. Do not leave out a single detail until we get to this moment right here.”

Surprisingly enough—or maybe sadly enough—it doesn’t take that long to get through the last seven years of my life. There are enormous stretches of time where I pretty much did nothing but work on the farm and raise my daughter. In fact, that first night with Vic when I got pregnant and the last two weeks takes up the bulk of the four hours we spend going over things in the back dining room of the Pancake House.

He records the entire thing, then packs up his briefcase, gives me a fake hat-tip, and says he will meet me in the hallway outside family court on Tuesday.

I want to ask him all the questions about Ford, and Spencer, and Rook. Plus all the others. And I especially want to talk about Vic’s charge. But every time I bring that stuff up, he firmly shakes his head and says, “No comment.”

Which makes me scared.

If Lucille and her mayor husband are powerful enough to silence a shark lawyer like Alec, then they must certainly be powerful enough to send Vic to prison and steal my child.

After being at work nearly six hours, I leave there with my charity tips, feeling even more defeated than when I arrived.