Something in the Orange

Chapter Twenty-Four

Authors Note: I have a cold and a very full calendar for the next week, so I am posting this a few days early so I don't forget. Anyway enjoy!

"You only smile like that when you're drinking, I wish I didn't, but I do Remember every moment on the nights with you"
I Remember Everything - Zach Bryan feat. Kacey Musgraves

"Where have you been?" Nestor's voice low and cautioning, the danger in his voice would have anyone else running in the opposite direction. Meeting his gaze Vee squares her shoulders, dropping her shopping bags and rolls her eyes at the anger dancing across his eyes. Shrugging off her black denim jacket and tossing it over the back of the armchair, she cocks her brow at him, a challenge in her movements.

Holding the back of the armchair with one hand, she kicks off her boots, sighing at the delight of her feet being free from the heels. Lifting her leg she pulls off her socks one at a time, dumping them on the floor in what feels like an awkward strip tease. Nestor's eyes drinking her in, her eyes landing on the empty scotch glass on the coffee table.

Stepping in front of the coffee table, she lifts her left leg, placing her foot on the table, slowly pulling her black sundress dress up her thigh, pulling her Ruger out of her leather garter and placing it on the table. Unclipping her garter she drops it next to her gun. Swapping legs she pulls a small knife from her right garter, dropping it on the table, the softest clink echoing through the room.

Vee watches as Nestor leans forward, his thick forearms resting on his thighs, his eyes never wavering, lighting every inch of her on fire. She watches as the muscles flex across his covered forearm, her eyes roam over his broad chest encased in a black button down shirt, his black suit jacket haphazardly thrown across the other armchair. Her eyes land back on his face as she slowly reaches for her glock, the gun heavy in her hand as she places it on the table. Not bothering to remove the harness she steps back and sinks into her armchair, not once breaking eye contact with Nestor.

She watches as his eyes move to study her garters and weapons on the table, before he leans back pinching the bridge of his nose, mumbling something she can't hear.

"You just found a decapitated head in your refrigerator yesterday Valentina, we fucking talked about this and you agreed, you can't just be out in public" he growls.

"No, you tried to tell me I couldn't be out in public, I told you I wouldn't be locked away." sighing she runs her fingers through her hair, exhaustion clawing at her "Nestor I'm not going to let fear control me, I was with Blair and her very muscular, tattooed scary babysitter, I was armed, he was armed, fuck, I'm sure Blair was even armed."

"I need another drink" he mutters pushing himself off the couch, she watches as he makes his way into her kitchen, turning back she tips her head back letting her hair cascades down the back of the armchair, her eyes closed. The only sound in her apartment is Nestor moving around her kitchen, she listens as he takes a handful of steading breaths before his footsteps glide across the floor.

Her eyes open the moment she feels him approaching her, her eyes land on the bottle of scotch in one hand, two shot glasses in the other. She cocks her eyebrow at him.

"How about we play a game?" a Cheshire grin on his face. Confusion filters across her face at his sudden mood change. Suspicion fills her mind as she studies him.

"What game?" She asks curiously, a drunk Nestor is one of her favorite versions of him, one of the rare times he relinquishes control, and his walls drop. Well at least the Nestor she once knew was like that, she had no idea what the man in front of her was like drunk, but she was dying to find out. Secretly praying for a much more relaxed Nestor, and maybe the chance of the truth coming out.