As I step onto Vivienne’s floor, the door to her neighbor’s apartment opens and one of the asshole brothers steps out. He’s higher than the Mars Land Rover. At least he has enough brain cells firing to duck his head as he passes me, keeping his hands stuffed in the front of his jeans as he turns to jog down the stairs.
I hate this place. I hate that Vivienne lives here.
“I’ll take her off. Do you want to tell her, or should I tell her that you’ve banned her from making nearly a year’s salary in one night?”
“I’m seeing her now; I’ll tell her.”
She doesn’t need the money. All of her bills have been paid off. Not a single debt remains in her name. And her checking account has been filled. Putting her name on that auction list is just her way of telling me to fuck off.
“Is there something I need to know about?” Meredith asks, poking again. “You know, about you two?”
“No. Nothing that affects Obsidian.”
“All right. Well, when you see her, tell her I hope she feels better.”
I grunt. We both know Vivienne’s not ill. She’s in hiding.
Six months ago, Vivienne showed up for her shift despite having a hundred and two fever and a throat so raw she couldn’t speak. Meredith had to threaten to take her off the schedule for a week if she didn’t voluntarily take the night off.
“And tell Kaz the girls are all pulling for him.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” At least his ego will.
Her laugh is the last sound I hear before the call ends. Just as I step up to Vivienne’s door, a message comes through from Alexander.
Kaz is up and causing a ruckus. He’ll be home and in his own bed by the end of the night. Stubborn asshole. Maybe if we hire a beautiful nurse, she can persuade him to stay in bed for at least another day.
Pressing my ear to the door, I check for voices or a television. Anything that will suggest she’s awake. It’s late. Not that it will keep me from waking her up to see her.
Last night I left Vivienne with Yosef so I could drive across town to Obsidian. In the lowest level of the club, a part of the building very few even know exists, Joey De Luca hung from a meat hook awaiting justice for his crimes.
It was for her own safety that I left Yosef to take her home.
Seeing Kaz lying lifeless like that, and all that fucking blood, coupled with the fact it had been so easy to get to him…it sent my head into a tailspin. It could have as easily been me. If Vivienne had been with me, it could have been her.
The tension in my shoulders radiates up my neck.
Once I get my eyes on her and remind myself that she’s fine, she’s safe, and she will remain that way, this damn ache in my chest will ease up.
Raising my fist, I pound on the door.
There’s movement on the other side and a faintshita second later. It’s enough to soften the tightness in my jaw.
“I’m not feeling good, Ivan. Can I talk to you later?”
“No. Open the door.” I peer into the peep hole, certain she’s watching my reaction from the safety of the other side.
As if this cheap, hollow door would keep me from getting to her.
“But I’m sick.” A fake cough follows the lie.
“That’s two, Vivienne.”
“Fine.” It’s drawn out, like a petulant teenager who’s been told for the fifteenth time to take out the trash.
The door opens just enough for her head to peak through the opening. “What?”
“Open the door.”
