Shelly Laurenston: Bite Me

“That is very big of you.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

She put her arms around his neck, relaxed her head on his shoulder. “I love my camera,” she softly sang.

“I’m glad it’s working for you.”

“Me, too. Oh. By the way . . . Melly’s back in jail.”

“The boyfriend again?”

“No. His wife. There was a fistfight.”

“There’s a wife ?”

“I never told you that?”

“No!”

“He’s married. And Melly fucked her parole by hitting his wife in the face. A few times. She’ll be going in for another six months, probably.”

“Maybe you guys should consider getting her some help.”

Livy lifted her head, looked him in the eyes. “Help for what?”

Vic shook his head. “Nothing.”

“By the way, my mother says you’re a bad influence on me.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“Nothing. But because I didn’t track down Chumakov and rip his balls off when he was in town to pick up Melly’s painting, she thinks I’ve gone soft.”

Livy suddenly snapped her head around to glower at the tigress standing a few feet away, impatiently tapping one foot and glaring at Livy. “I’m on break!” Livy bellowed.

“For as much as we’re paying you, skank, you could at least get off your ass and do your goddamn job!”

“ You aren’t paying me shit. And if you come at me one more time, I’m going to rip the eyes out of your fucking head!”

Blayne suddenly skated up to Cella’s wedding planning mother and took her arm. “Come on, Barb!”

“But, Blayne, she’s taking advantage of you!”

“There’s a problem with the chocolate room! And you know what will happen if the wild dogs don’t get their chocolate! I need you!”

“Fine!” She pointed a finger at Livy. “You’ve got ten minutes, and then you better get out there and do your goddamn job!”

Livy gave the older woman two middle fingers and added, “Eat me!”

After Blayne and the wedding planner moved away, Livy focused on Vic again and calmly asked, “What was I talking about?”

“How you’re going soft.”

“Right. So I just thought I should warn you that you have my mother very concerned.”

“Should I say something to her?”

“No. I like that she’s tormented. Let her marinate in that for a while. Maybe until her death .”

“Okay, then. Although, you know going soft is a risk when you fall in love.”

“Really? I’ve always thought of love as rage-inducing.”

Vic laughed, kissed Livy’s forehead. “Of course you do.”

“It’s a good thing, though, you’re very calm.”

“It is?”

“Sure. It would be bad if both of us were easily angered.”

“Especially because you’d take me in a fight.”

“Exactly. And then you’d feel nothing but shame.”

Vic wrapped his arms around Livy, held her tight. “For you, Livy . . . I’d endure the shame.”

“That’s good,” she said, nuzzling his jaw. “Because we both know my family will always be there to induce it.”

“Aw, Livy . . . so will mine. But we’ll be able to suffer the shame together.”

“Always you with the romance, Barinov,” she joked. “Always you with the romance.”