14 | 𝐷𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑉𝑖𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑦

Maybe telling him on Thanksgiving wasn't ideal.

"What are you doing here, Rhy?" he asked lowly, dryly, and his eyebrows were sewn tight. His tousled locks were every which way, and a distant conversation between a young girl and her father could be heard.

I sighed, chewing on my bottom lip, then stated, "my mom is throwing this Thanksgiving party and a whole bunch of my crazy relatives who I don't like are coming. My mom said I could invite somebody and because everybody celebrates Thanksgiving, I thought I could invite you?" I phrased, hurriedly speaking in one breath.

He arched a brow.

Shit.

"Are you assuming that because I told you I have no family I don't celebrate Thanksgiving?" he questioned.

"What? No--" I panicked. My hands raced to stop him from getting that thought, but he only laughed with a smug smile.

"Because you're absolutely right. I'm getting dressed now--" He disappeared behind the door before appearing again in the corner to see my slightly shocked expression. "Is turkey going to be the only thing stuffed today?"

"Well, my Grandma Edith is bringing stu--" My mouth fell open. "You dirty dog! Now, go get dressed!" I slapped my hand on his forearm and shoved him playfully into the direction of his house. He chortled to himself, inviting me in.

"Hey," greeted the man, causing Victor to pivot back aground.

Victor beckoned a hand to me lazily. "Azariah," he introduced with half-interest. "I'm leaving today--"

"If that's okay," I smoothed over, the hopeful smile on my lips. I didn't want his 'dad' to hate me already, but to be honest, I saw Victor's whole demeanor change. If I saw him like this prior to him telling me about his family life, I may've just assumed it from the interaction.

His 'dad' looked either way between us, then smiled. I was expecting a very angry man, a bad father, and I don't know why, because when I looked at the balding man, he seemed genuinely excited. "Where are you guys going?"

"My house for Thanksgiving," I replied, I would've invited them, but Victor probably wouldn't have liked that so much. "We'll bring you back some leftovers, I'm sure we'll have plenty, if that's alright?" I offered and I saw a glint of joy in his eyes.

"That'd be fantastic, I'm glad you two are friends," he murmured.

"Friends with benefits," Victor concluded behind me.

What the fuck?

Mortification couldn't describe what I just heard him say. My hands were shaking with irritation, the distant sound of his 'sister' Bria asking what that meant.

Victor then walked out of the room to change while I waited in the aftermath of what he'd just said.When he walked out, dressed in black jeans, combat boots, a leather jacket and a black shirt, without the chains, we said our goodbyes and left.

"Did you seriously walk to my house?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied with a downcast in my tone. "Why did you do that? Back there?"

"It's all bullshit," he cursed, throwing a hand up when we stood by the hood of his jeep.

He looked hot--my eyes widened briefly--where the hell did that come from?

He continued on what he was saying as if my thought didn't interrupt him, which it didn't, but it could've? He could literally be a mind reader? I wouldn't be surprised.

Victor muttered, "he acts like he's so friendly up forth when in reality, he's just a spiteful asshole. Don't fall for it."

I didn't believe that, but at the same time, I nodded and took his word for it.

When we got in the car, he drove slowly, but as if his mind was on some other subject.

I turned towards him and watched as though he were a book to be read. That must've caught his attention, because as he steered the vehicle with one hand mindlessly and uttered, "you can do more than look, y'know?"

I snapped my head around towards the dashboard, rolling my eyes and commenting in return to that conceited comment, "I don't trust the way you drive."

"You don't?" he asked, quite hurt. "Wow, you know how to crush a guys' self esteem," he muttered sarcastically. Victor glanced up to the rearview mirror, rolling the car down a suburban block. "So, how judgy is your family?"

I cringed, gazing out the window. The blurs of Wyoming dwellings, trees spiked up from the grounds, and a few scattered neighbors around their property in my sight. "Let's just say, my mom isn't a fan."

He glared. "You've talked about me, not in a good light, I see."

"Not that," I retorted with a laugh. "Just, fair warning, my mom thinks you're..." I trailed, attempting to think of it in a better light, but no words were coming to mind. When I looked back at him, he cocked a brow and pursed his lips. "No!" I exclaimed, trying to limit his fears. "It's just. Kayla gossips and let's just say... Fox Point isn't rumoring you very highly?"

"It's all true anyways," he quipped with a grin. "I mean, so wait..." He started to slow the car though we weren't nearing my house yet. "What does your mom know of me, Rhy?"

I slunk into the seat.

Please, don't make me break it down! You just said it was true!

"Oh, you know..." I started, "imagine the rumors you hear and--"

He interrupted me with a sharp, but playful tone. "They're all about sex and anger issues!" he exclaimed, throwing his head back once the car slammed to a complete stop in the middle of a road. "This is as nerve-wracking as meeting the parents--"

I broke into laughter, tilting my chin lower and gazing up at his distress through the hood of my lashes. "Is Mr. Vislocky nervous?" I sang teasingly.

He gripped the steering wheel as an SUV was luring close behind his bumper. He started pressing on the gas, rolling his eyes, shaking his head and trying to pull himself together. "You should've told me that before I decided to wear my leather jacket."

"Hey," I began optimistically. "A leather jacket is northing, at least you're not also wearing ripped jeans. My Grandma Tabitha would hate that---"

"Holy fuck, I forgot I have to meet more than just your parents," he remarked. I fell a little into my seat. He noticed and murmured, "parent?"

I nodded, giving him a smile. "My mom, and Grandma Tabitha--" Then I rambled, "Aunt Octavia, Grandma Edith, Uncle Elliot, Grandpa Stevie, Miles, Trenton, Layla, Aunt Genevieve, and second cousin, Martin---"

He broke into a fit of coughs, a fist colliding with his chest. "I'm only here for the food, I hope you know that."

"You mean you won't socialize?" I tested, chuckling to myself. "Well, don't worry. I think we only have to sit with my cousins Martin and Sapphire."

"You have a huge family," he pointed out.

"Not really." I shrugged, watching as he neared the driveway, adding his car to the long line of them. "Believe it or not, this isn't even half."

He returned with a strong and powerful glare, it sent a layer of tingles to run down my body trepidatiously. "How do you live?"

"It's just my mom and me though, all the time," I assured with a chortle. "It's kinda nice having family over, but I hate everyone here except my cousin Layla. She's thirteen and a mini me."

"So, what you're telling me is I better keep away from the little devil?" he rephrased, beginning to override his words with the sounds of the car door opening, along with mine.

"Brat!" I rebuked. "I'm lovely."

I saw him roll his eyes before he slammed the door close and started walking up the driveway with me. I wore a dress in the form of a Burgundy colored skirt and halter top.

He blatantly checked me out as we walked, but despite my rosy cheeks heating up, I ignored the attention. Then it hit me like a fucking milk truck. I didn't tell Kayla I was inviting her crush to meet my family and have Thanksgiving!

Shit! This was girl code!

As her friend, I needed to tell her something like this, but I was already heading to the door, opening the handle and pulling it open for Victor. He strolled in with his hands stuffed into his leather jacket pockets.

The house bustled with Thanksgiving chaos. I could hear my distant moms' kind and welcoming voice. The living room scrambled with two boys chasing each other with yellow toy garbage trucks in hand. The TV played a football game. My grandpa and uncle sat on the couch with beers in hand, shouting at the TV whilst music fluttered through the air.

"My house is usually calmer than this," I noted casually, causing him to stifle a snicker uncomfortably. "Yo, Uncle Elliot!" I called, catching his attention from the game temporarily.

"Hey, kid. Whatcha been up to?" he questioned, but his eyes continuously flickered to the ongoing game, he slouched on the couch, his elbows digging into his thighs.

"Nothing much," I murmured. "How about you?"

"Good--Fucking hell! You had that, you son of a bitch!" he shouted, throwing a hand up.

My Grandpa Stevie slapped the table with his palm, his round belly hanging over his waistband, jostling in anger. "Fuck you!" he cursed out, spit flying from the gaps in his teeth. He gulped down a good portion of his beer, shaking his head disappointingly.

"Unbelievable," my uncle spat, sinking back into the couch. "My fucking great grandma can play better than that."

"Uncle Elliot, Grandpa Stevie. This is my friend, Victor," I greeted, motioning a hand to him. This caught both of their attention quickly.

My Grandpa Stevie gave a mischievous smug smirk that hinted what he was thinking off. "Friend?" he repeated.

Elliot stood up, walking around the glass coffee table and over the few toys scattered upon the floor. His hand was outstretched to Victor. "Uncle Elliot."

"Vic," he shortened, shaking his hand.

When their hands parted, my uncle spun around to the TV. "You watch? Play?" he offered.

"No, not really. My dad though, is obsessed, taught me a bit here and there," he explained in a lecturing tone, somewhat believable, but I assumed he was talking about his adopted father.

"Nice," he murmured, "You should really start watch--Fuck! That's what I'm talking about, baby!" He pivoted towards the TV and Stevie took that as a sign to start slapping his hands together, creating a resounding noise.

My eyes widened towards Victor while I beckoned my head into the kitchen. We surpassed the TV and turned into our little empty archway and saw who was prancing around. My Aunt Octavia and her kids, Martin and Sapphire.

"Hey, guys," I greeted softly, smiling towards them as we made our rounds.

Octavia spun on her heel, the beaming smile appearing. "It's so nice to see ya, Doll. How have you been?" She lightly jogged to where I was standing on the opposing side of the kitchen counter and gave me a big and tight embrace. Her hugs were usually longer, but surprisingly she separated, and all eyes were on Victor.

"And you are...?"

"Vic," he greeted, correcting himself, "Victor."

I grinned instinctually when I saw my aunt lean in and hug him with a similar smile. I even knew Victor wasn't a fan of hugs. The only time he ever hugged me was the last time we saw each other, but it was a mental agreement to keep that silent and between us.

She backed away and motioned a hand to the two teenagers, or young adults, standing behind her. I always felt odd around them. They were my older cousins that only visited once, or two times a year. I think it was my social anxiety that intimidated me. Beside them, I was still the kid, despite the two boys running reckless (God knows where) in the house.

"Vic, these are my kids, Martin and Sapphire."

It was surprising to see that Martin was not tending to the football game with his grandpa and dad. He showcased the football jock appearance, a punchable square face and short threads of brown hair. Sapphire, only one year older than me, exhibited what I would imagine a Hollywood movie-star to look like. Even caught off guard, her luscious blond and brown ombre hair made my brown, mud locks look like shit. She was cheerleading captain and fit the part perfectly and I will admit, envy did bite like a Venus flytrap.

When I looked over to Vic to see his reaction, my  eyes were going to spring out of their sockets. He blatantly checked out Sapphire in front of my aunt and her mom.

Sapphire has a boyfriend! Stop looking! Eyes to yourself, man! This is a family dinner! Not the time!

"I'll leave you kiddies to it," was another way of saying that she was helping herself to another glass of wine to join my mom, and drunk, Aunt Genevieve.

"How do you know each other?" Martin pressed, leaning over the counter. "You her boyfriend or something. I always assumed she'd be a lesbian."

Vic cleared his throat and I saw Sapphire studying him under the same light. I was equally disgusted and angry, but I didn't understand why I was angry to be exact. I just knew that it wasn't right and I didn't like it.

When Vic was too busy causing Sapphire to blush, I stated, "no, we're not dating."

Martin hunched over his phone, but he glanced up to me and inquired, "you have such a lame life, I'm going to get a beer." He drifted off to the outside where the cooler was, also where the three women on the patio were seated, trying to escape the distant shouts and football wrath.

Sapphire giggled at something Victor said, but I quickly nudged his shoulder. "Mind it if I introduce you to my favorite little cousins," I egged on, but as I latched onto his wrist, I realized he was mounted to the ground.

Sapphire played with the tiny ringlets at the end of her hair. "You know, I'm just wondering... what a beautiful guy as yourself, is doing with someone like her? No offense, Riyah--but it's just y'know..."

I shot him a hard glare, but deep within my squinted slits were my irises begging for him not to say it. If he mentioned the truth, Sapphire would tell everyone in the family and her school in New York like it was the punchline to a joke. I was tugging gently on his wrist, even toying with the cuff of his leather jacket to get his attention, but neither worked.

He continued to look at Sapphire in a possessive manner and said, "it's Rhy's and my little secret," he revealed lowly.

"Fine, but you're not like... into her," she started as if I wasn't even there anymore. "Cause that would be a shame."

He rolled his eyes and I was just hoping Victor could give a simple 'no' but he threw his arm around my neck, his eyes shooting up my exposed legs to my eyes. His arm kept me close, but he distanced himself to allow his eyes the opportunity to check me out in front of Sapphire. I felt my cheeks heating up when he chuckled harmoniously and pulled me into his chest. "You said you wanted to show me something," he whispered.

I walked him up to my bedroom where we'd only shut the door a crack. If I shut it all the way, my mom would most likely make a scene in front of everyone. Standing in my bedroom with the door half-closed was still asking for that very same lecture, but I needed to talk to him in private.

The second that he entered was basically signing my room away. He started rifling through things and scanning over every detail as if it was his own bedroom. He picked up a romance novel and turned to me, "don't tell me you believe in this shit?"

"It's not a fucking bible," I shot, sauntering to him and swiping the book out of his clutch. "And yes, I do read them sometimes. Mainly because Kayla recommends some of her favorites to me, but you don't have to be so disgusted."

He arched a brow. "Romance novels are stupid."

"Fine," I grumbled, folding my arms over my chest after placing the book back down in its place. "What books do you like to read then?"

He turned around, revisiting dressers. "I don't read," he told me with the view of his back.

"You don't or you can't?" I questioned inquisitively, causing his eyes to work around to my face.

"You can be very bitchy when you want to be, Rhy," he noted, jabbing a finger into the air and continuing down his scan.

"I didn't bring you in here to investigate, Detective Vislocky," I pointedly muttered.

He flipped to a page in a composition notebook as he replied, "I'm not really a role-play guy, but I will investigate other things if that's what you're into? I can do a really good pat-down."

Shit, why do I think that was kinda smooth? It was weird, but I wouldn't be opposed-- Azariah! I scolded myself.

"You know," I started, "you don't have to make a sexual joke every five minutes?"

"Well, what would be the fun in that?" he quipped, but his eyes softened. "I'm sorry about your dad--"

"What are you reading?" I snapped, throwing the book out of his grasp. I narrowed when I looked at the pages with scribbled handwriting loosely on each line. The big and bold 'KEEP OUT' highlighted and written in Sharpie.

"Usually," I began in a threatening tone. "Keep Out' at the top of the page means--"

"Go on," he interrupted, "it means you're welcome to read." He paused with a disappointed glare. "Did your twelve year old self seriously think your highlighted pens and Sharpies were stopping anybody, let alone me?" he urged.

"Yeah, because I was fifteen and didn't think I'd be having this conversation with you. Did you find out why he left?" I questioned eagerly. I needed to make sure he didn't know everything.

"Not yet," he answered, catching me off guard.

"Yet?"

"I'm gonna get all your secrets out eventually," he teased half-heartedly, shooting me a quick smile before hearing a voice holler down the stairs. We anxiously, and hungrily, made our way down to the dinner table.

"There you are, Riyah!" exclaimed a younger girls' voice. She wore a pretty maroon dress with a thin white belt. I crouched down and hugged her.

"I missed you so much!" I responded, parting ways as two younger boys came trampling in chanting 'turkey.'

I noticed she was blushing dark shades of crimson, and only then did I realize Victor was standing next to me watching the food be transported into the kitchen. When he glanced back, I was wearing expectant eyes.

"Oh, hey," he started with a grimace.

"This is Vic, short for Victor," I introduced casually, causing her to nod.

She shyly murmured, "Layla." Then scurried off into the dinning room after the parade of food.

"Goddammit Elliot!" scolded my Aunt Octavia. "I told you to change the channel to the parade! The boys want to eat their dinner in there."

I smiled up to Victor. "Thank you for not being a pedophile," I curtly said to him without context.

He knew what I was talking about and chuckled. "That was adorable though," he chuckled, causing my heart to quiver. Layla having a crush on Victor was sweet, but that might be the one thing my mini me and I don't have in common.

"You ready to eat?" I inquired.

"Eh--" He shrugged carelessly and asserted, "The only food I like isn't on the menu." He was turning to me, shifting his eyes over my body.

"Imma pretend I didn't hear that."

x