Page 50 of Vincent
He stared at her with narrowed eyes. "I know you, or at least, I think I do, and the sister I know would never dream of trapping a man with a baby."
She snatched her hand away, her expression one of fury.
"How dare you-"
"That's precisely what he's going to think." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck wearily. "And if those words come out of his bloody mouth, that's exactly what it will be. Bloody. I feel like finding the bastard and breaking every bone in his body."
"Violence is not the answer." Her weak attempt at humor did not come off well. "Hopefully he will take this time by himself to come to his senses."
"I sincerely doubt that. Oh honey, I'm happy you're back, but I'm beginning to wish you were still in Europe."
Tears leaked from her eyes. "Me too."
*****
He was getting steadily drunk. It started in the poker room where he kept asking for another glass of their finest whiskey and then continued out in one of the bars. It did not help that his stomach was empty.
"Another glass of your finest-" He lifted a hand and struggled to come up with the name of the drink.
"I think we will have a pot of coffee instead." Smiling easily, Jackson laid a hand on his shoulder and nodded to the bartender. "You should know when to cut a member off," he added curtly, sending the man scrambling away.
"He knows better-" Vincent started to rise and had to sit back down. "What was I saying?"
"That you wished to be escorted to your rooms?" Jackson had seen his friend spiraling when they were inside the card room and decided that as soon as he was finished with his hand, he would go and see what was what.
"I'm not a child."
Signaling to the bartender, he mouthed that he wanted a pot of coffee sent to Vincent's room.
"Just a guy heavy in his cups." He steered Vincent firmly out of the room and along the narrow hallway.
"Keys?"
"What?" Vincent stared at him with a puzzled frown.
"Your keys, my friend."
"Oh." He dug into his coat pocket and came up with the card so enthusiastically, he almost poked Jackson's eye out.
"Shit."
"Yeah." Inserting the card into the slot, Jackson got the door open just as the man came up with a tray.
"Put it on the table. Thanks." Closing the door, he led Vincent over to the bed and bent to remove his shoes. "I'm not taking your pants off." He eased his friend back on the pillows.
"That would be weird," Vincent said with a foolish grin, which faded immediately. "I think I'm drunk."
"Very intuitive of you. How about some coffee-"
"I can still see her."
"Who?"
"Thea." He grimaced as his stomach heaved. "I thought I could get drunk and forget about her, but I can still see her and feel her."
Jackson sat on the chair next to the bed.
"The chef?"
