Page 63 of Vicious
That means he’s probably gambling again, and from what I understand, that’s how he got into this situation in the first place. That’s why Pavone got his hands on beautiful May, and why I’d paid a frankly exorbitant sum to ensure May would be mine and mine alone.
I should thank Simon, but all he’s doing is pissing me off.
“I can’t help you, Simon,” I say brittly. “I wish you the best of luck, honestly. But, bloody hell, if she managed to get out of the sex work business and decided to dump you along the way, maybe that’s just for the best.”
“No! I have to find May! I have to be sure she’s safe. Please, Chase?—”
I drop my half-empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can. “I’m already behind on my day. If you get a real lead, maybe I can help, but until then, Simon, you’re on your own.”
“Wait! Can you at least lend me some cash?” Simon begs. “Just one grand—no, a few hundred dollars.”
The audacity of it stops me short, and I stare at him. “Really?”
“Please, Chase. I’ll pay it all back, and I’m doing what I can, but you’ve probably heard that I can’t work right now, and my expenses are piling up.”
I know that he must have gotten a decent severance package, given he has a government job. But I also know he’d lost his house a few years ago, and he and May have been scrambling to pay back all of their debts.
Like their debt to the Pavones.
I make a disgusted sound, but I open my bag to pull out my checkbook. “Just this once, Simon. Because you’re May’s father.” I write a check for five grand and hand it to him. “Don’t waste it.”
Simon’s eyes widen when he sees the number. “I won’t! I swear. Thank you, Chase. Thank you.”
I shake my head. “Sincerely, I hope May is safe. And try to take care of yourself.”
I walk off, ignoring his hurried “Thank you!”
Bloody hell.
I’m probably going to be late for my next meeting, and I’m in a foul mood now. Simon was supposed to be the one taking care of May, not the other way around. It’s thanks to Simon that May was always overworked and stressed and working for fucking Ntimacy.
I hail a cab and get in, trying to calm myself on the ride back to the office.
I don’t know why I’m so pissed off at Simon. It’s not like I’m treating May any better.
In fact, May would probably argue that I’m treating her worse.
But I wouldn’t let her take the fall for my own mistakes.
I wouldn’t take her for granted.
* * *
I open the door, unsurprised to see May lying in bed on her stomach, staring at the wall. There’s no indication that she’s worked on her sewing or Chinese practice, but at least she’s eaten a little bit.
“We’re going swimming,” I announce to her in Chinese. “So get out of bed.”
May doesn’t look at me. “My back isn’t healed enough,” she says flatly.
“Your back is plenty healed.” I’ve been checking every day, and the scabs on her back are already flaking to reveal mended skin. “I will physically carry you upstairs and drop you into the pool if you don’t get up yourself.”
“How about I just roll over and spread my legs for you?” she retorts without any real emotion in her voice. “That’s what you actually want from me.”
I roll my eyes, burying my worry with my anger. “If that’s all I wanted from you, I wouldn’t have bought you all the nice toys.”
She flinches at the mention of toys, burying her face in the pillow.
I stalk over to her and pull on her shoulder, forcing her to roll over onto her back. She hisses in pain, but I don’t honestly care.