Vic Vaughn is Vicious by J.A. Huss
CHAPTER SEVEN - VIC
“You gotta turn yourself in.”
I’m still standing in Spencer’s front yard holding the princess—who is still a princess, even though she’s not one of the known princesses—when he says this. Veronica is inside calling her friend, Ford, so he can call his lawyer. So much for all that extra cash I just made.
I am a fucking kidnapper. Like… this is not good. “This is not good.” I say it out loud to drive home the point.
“No shit,” Spencer says. “We need to call the police and tell them you’re here—”
But the screen door bangs open and Veronica comes bouncing down the porch stairs holding out her phone. “It’s the lawyer. He wants to talk to you.”
I awkwardly take the phone and position it up to my ear without dropping… Vivian, and then say, “Yeah.”
“Mr. Vaughn.”
“Yep. That’s me.”
“So you mistook this child for your niece?”
“That’s correct.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“Well.” I sigh. I am a dumbass and there is no way around this. “She wandered into my shop this morning—”
“The tattoo shop?”
“Yes. And this is something my nieces occasionally do—”
“That’s not true.” Ronnie stomps her foot. “We don’t drop them off without saying anything!”
“OK. Fine. The whole thing was weird, but I was still maybe a little buzzed from Saturday night and I had been up for thirty-six hours. And the most important thing is, she looks just like my nieces. OK? Just like them!”
“OK,” the lawyer says. “Perhaps this girl is somehow related to you or your family?”
“Um.” I look at Spencer. “Do you have any kids we don’t know about?”
“Fuck you, Vic!” Ronnie is not having that.
“No, asshole,” Spencer says. “And how are you still alive? You’re so stupid. This girl is your child, Vic. She’s yours.”
“What was that?” the lawyer asks. “Did he just say—”
“He’s wrong. I do not have kids. Sure, she looks like my sister—”
“She looks just like you, Vic!” Ronnie protests.
I sigh. “Just tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t kidnap her. She came into my shop, sat down on my couch, and I thought she was a princess niece. All I did was babysit a girl I thought was my niece. I refuse to go to prison for babysitting.”
“I’ll call you back in five minutes.” The lawyer hangs up.
“What’s going on?”
Shit. The unknown princess is awake and I’m still holding her. “Um.” I put her down, but hold on to her because she’s a little wobbly. Then I bend down to look her in the eyes.
Green. They are green. None of us have green eyes. Why didn’t I notice this immediately?
“Hey, sis?” I ask. She smiles at me. “So. Why did you come into the shop this morning?”
She makes a face. “Why are you asking?”
“Because…” I pause. “Because I thought you were one of them.” I point to the known princesses still on the porch. They aren’t all there. Cinderella, Snow White and the Little Mermaid are all inside. So it’s just Oliver and the other two. I go looking for their names because this is what got me in trouble in the first place. “I thought you were Jasmine or…”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What is that other one called?
“Oh!” I snap my fingers. “Belle! Fuckin’ Belle. I thought you were Jasmine, or Belle, or Ariel.” Thank God I know who the Little Mermaid is. “And you’re not. Clearly. Because you are Vivian and as far as I know, there is no Disney princess Vivian. So while you are still very much a princess in my eyes”—I smile at her to keep her happy—“you’re not a Shrike princess. And therefore… I am going to prison unless we figure this out.”
Vivian pushes some unruly blonde hair out of her eyes and smiles at me. “Everyone calls me Vivi.”
“Holy hell, Vic. That was unnecessary.” Veronica shoots me a scowl as she comes over and kneels down next to me. “Vivi? I’m your aunt Ronnie. Sweetie, who is your mommy?” Ronnie side-eyes me as she says this. Like we’re gonna get to the bottom of this real fast because this child’s mother is one of my insane ex-girlfriends.
“Why do you think she’s mine?” I ask. “She could belong to Vinn or Vonn or Vann!” Everyone gives me the look. Including Vivi. “What? I’m careful!”
“You’re stupid,” Spencer says. “Vivian, I’m Uncle Spencer. What is your mother’s name?”
“Daisy,” Vivi says. “She’s a waitress at the Pancake House. I was over there this morning and then…” She shrugs. “I wanted to see why she hated that place so much.”
“What place?” I ask.
“The tattoo place. She looks at it funny every time we get off the bus for her work. And then she said you were bad people. And I should never go in there.” Vivi shrugs again like this explains everything. You tell a little Vaughn girl not to do something and this is what happens. “Then you gave me a bracelet. And I asked for donuts this morning, but my mommy said no. I had to eat egg whites.” She makes a face. “I like donuts. So I decided to spend the day with you.”
“Oh, shit,” Ronnie says. She stands up and pushes her unruly blonde hair out of her eyes just like Vivi did. “She’s one of them.”
“One of who?” Spencer and I ask this question together.
“One of those health-conscious people,” Ronnie says. “Egg whites? Oh, my God. Please tell me you did not feed this child crap all day.” I just stare at her. “You did feed her though, right?”
“Oh, I ate a lot today,” Vivi chimes in. “I had the donut. I haaaad… the jackalope dog. I haaaad… the SpaghettiOs and meatballs. But then I puked it all up after the octopus ride at the swap meet, so we got mac and cheese bites.” She sighs. “Do we have any more of those?”
Veronica and Spencer just look at me like I’m the worst.
“What?” I ask. “None of that will kill her, OK? We all ate SpaghettiOs at some point in our messed-up childhoods.”
“Not all of us,” Spencer says.
“Fuck you, Spencer.”
“OK, no more swearing, Vic. This girl belongs to a mother who feeds her egg whites.” Ronnie cups a hand over one side of her mouth so she can whisper, “She’s not like us.” Then she sweeps a finger across her throat and clicks her tongue, telling me to knock it off with the F-word.
The phone rings in my hand and I answer it on speaker. “Yep.”
“Mr. Vaughn.”
“Yep.”
“I’m gonna need you to take the child down to the Bellvue substation. Do you know where that is?”
“There are a total of two buildings in Bellvue, Colorado. Of course I know where the sheriff lives.”
“It’s inside the post office,” Spencer adds. I snap my fingers at him to shut up.
“Take her there. The sheriff is waiting.”
“That’s it? Just take her there? I’m not going to prison?”
“I’m not sure about that yet. I’ll be there, but it will take me a little while to get the helicopter and limo arranged. Do not answer any questions until I get there. Do you understand me?”
“Yep,” Spencer says. “We know the drill.”
“You hand over the child, do whatever they tell you, and wait for me.”
“Got it,” I say, then end the call. “Can one of you drive us? I’m thinking it’s a bad idea to show up in the dragon bike.”
“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.