‹ Prequel: Blood, Sweat & Ink
Sequel: No Ordinary Love ›
The Real Housewives of Ink
Chapter Twelve
Lydia frowned as, yet again, Vanessa's phone went straight to voicemail.
Something wasn't right. She could sense it. Nessie had the worst poker face known to man. It had gotten her in to loads of trouble growing up. Like the time when they were four that they stayed with Mrs. Daniels, the local Crazy Cat Lady. The old woman had a habit of giving them these candies Lydia was sure had been on her coffee table since she moved in-thirty years ago. And possibly the cats might have pissed on them. Dad had drilled it into them to have manners, but apparently Vanessa had forgotten.
"Ew, why do you keep giving us these nasty candies?" she had griped.
If Lydia had known what a facepalm was as a child, she would have done it.
When they got home, word had filtered down what she had said to the crazy neighbor, well, let's just say her little sister had trouble sitting down for a week.
The moment she met Dave, she knew something was wrong. They seemed too perfect. If there was one thing she had learned in her short life, it was that if it was too good to be true, it probably was.
A fact she discovered the day she came in early and found Kyle fucking a busty blonde about Kyle's age on one of the tattoo chairs.
"Candi, I presume?" she called out.
Realizing someone was watching, they immediately parted, faces flushed and clothes immediately put back on.
"It's not what it looks like!" he pleaded.
"Like hell it fucking isn't!" she spat. "And let me guess, you lied about Candi having nothing to do with my attack?"
Candi's face went pale.
"You told me you had nothing to do with it!" Kyle yelled at the blonde.
"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Candi whined. "You kept promising that you'd break up with her. I thought if I killed her you'd finally get off your ass."
Kyle scoffed. "You called that a killing blow you gave her? She had a mild concussion."
"Oh, fuck you," Candi snapped.
"Fuck me? Fuck me?"
At that point, Lydia just grabbed her coat and left them to argue.
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Lydia drove up to the mansion where her sister and Dave lived and pounded on the door.
"Nessie! You haven't answered my voicemails in a week! Open this door or I'm gonna break it down!" she yelled.
"What the fuck do you want?" slurred a shirtless, clearly drunk Dave.
"Is Vanessa here?"
"No, and don't care," he snapped, slamming the door in her face.
Something wasn't right.
Something wasn't right. She could sense it. Nessie had the worst poker face known to man. It had gotten her in to loads of trouble growing up. Like the time when they were four that they stayed with Mrs. Daniels, the local Crazy Cat Lady. The old woman had a habit of giving them these candies Lydia was sure had been on her coffee table since she moved in-thirty years ago. And possibly the cats might have pissed on them. Dad had drilled it into them to have manners, but apparently Vanessa had forgotten.
"Ew, why do you keep giving us these nasty candies?" she had griped.
If Lydia had known what a facepalm was as a child, she would have done it.
When they got home, word had filtered down what she had said to the crazy neighbor, well, let's just say her little sister had trouble sitting down for a week.
The moment she met Dave, she knew something was wrong. They seemed too perfect. If there was one thing she had learned in her short life, it was that if it was too good to be true, it probably was.
A fact she discovered the day she came in early and found Kyle fucking a busty blonde about Kyle's age on one of the tattoo chairs.
"Candi, I presume?" she called out.
Realizing someone was watching, they immediately parted, faces flushed and clothes immediately put back on.
"It's not what it looks like!" he pleaded.
"Like hell it fucking isn't!" she spat. "And let me guess, you lied about Candi having nothing to do with my attack?"
Candi's face went pale.
"You told me you had nothing to do with it!" Kyle yelled at the blonde.
"Well, what was I supposed to do?" Candi whined. "You kept promising that you'd break up with her. I thought if I killed her you'd finally get off your ass."
Kyle scoffed. "You called that a killing blow you gave her? She had a mild concussion."
"Oh, fuck you," Candi snapped.
"Fuck me? Fuck me?"
At that point, Lydia just grabbed her coat and left them to argue.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lydia drove up to the mansion where her sister and Dave lived and pounded on the door.
"Nessie! You haven't answered my voicemails in a week! Open this door or I'm gonna break it down!" she yelled.
"What the fuck do you want?" slurred a shirtless, clearly drunk Dave.
"Is Vanessa here?"
"No, and don't care," he snapped, slamming the door in her face.
Something wasn't right.