Gateway Drug | Volume II

GD: Volume II | Part Three

Warning(s):
Explicit language

NIKKI

Shit.

I look down at Vivian, wanting to hide under the sink because just the way she's looking at me makes me feel about two inches tall.

"Viv, I don't know what the hell else you want me to say other than, 'I'm sorry'." I persevere through her scalding hot glare. "I was gonna tell you about it, I swear I was."

"After I stumbled on used needles again, or...?"

Cheap shot.

"It wasn't smack. It was just a couple drinks and some blow."

"Just some blow." She repeats, and I'm pinching the bridge of my nose, struggling with the idea of going back and forth about this. "When was this?"

"Last weekend."

"What happened?"

"Tommy and I thought we could have a beer and that escalated pretty quick." I admit, leaving out the part where Duff and Slash were right there with us.

"You know you can't have a drink, Nikki, you're never good on just a single drink."

"I know, Vivian, I know."

"Then why the hell did you think — "

" — I wasn't thinking." I cut her short. "And I'm sorry because you're right. I knew better. And it won't happen again, alright?"

"If it happens again I'm gone, do you understand me? I'm not putting up with what I've put up with."

It's a fair statement, one that I nod in agreement with, but of course in her Vivian Sixx fashion, she's got to add a line that turns this from a settled understanding, to the opening shots of WWIII.

"Especially since you've got little eyes on you now."

I think back to how I would handle this if it were 3 years ago.

I'd feed into whatever argument she was fishing to start, we'd scream and curse one another out, I maybe get swung on or slapped if I said something fucked up enough, and then we'd make up in a frenzy of debauched fucking almost as violent as our fighting, and leave it there.

But seeing her bitchy little attitude now doesn't turn me on like it used to — no matter how attractive she is — it just outright makes me mad, and the urge to just walk out of the bathroom is nearly pulling me to open the door and run.

I can say what I know will start an ugly argument, or I can let it go.

My jaw clenches and I decide I'm not letting this go because it's bull shit.

"You do, too, Viv, let's not act like you're not going around swinging fists." I remind her, defensively.

"The asshole deserved it." She argues. "Quit trying to deflect."

"I'm not deflecting shit. I'm simply telling you that I'm not the only one your son's looking at...though with his mom beating the shit out of anyone who looks at her the wrong way and his dad throwing back beers like water — "

" — You have absolutely no room to make any smart ass remarks about Duff or anything he does." She's pushing away from me, bracing herself on the bathroom counter.

I'm almost ashamed at how roughly her coming to Duff's defense so quickly stabs at my nerves and security like a switchblade.

"So when he does it, it's okay, right?" I hiss out, bitterly.