Have I mentioned that I love Veda’s vanity? I think of the way her eyes lit up when she was kneeling beside the pool and I explained the deeper she took me in her mouth, the more presents I would buy her. Goddamn, I want to indulge that acquisitive nature with my bank account, which, despite my public act of lunacy, continues to grow by the hour. What good is money, though, without Veda to spend it on? I might as well be sleeping in Grand Central Station without a penny to my name.
Come on, angel, I beg the skyline. Look up and see me. See your name on my tallest building in blood red. See that I didn’t mean to be such a heartless prick. I just didn’t know another way.
As if I’m being mocked by God, a crack of thunder goes off somewhere in the distance and it begins to rain, reminding me of the time Veda sought refuge from the storm in my bedroom. Since my mind insists on torturing me by replaying the entire scene, word for word, I assume it’s my imagination that conjures her voice, light and musical behind me. I squeeze my eyes shut, rain coursing down my face, ordering myself not to turn around, because I know when she’s not standing there, the disappointment will finally kill me and my life will end one hundred and twenty stories below, my body flattened on a city sidewalk.
When I feel a soft touch on my shoulder, I’m so unprepared for it, my legs almost forget to support me. I turn around slowly, carefully, scared as hell if I move too fast, she’ll fade away into the rain. But she doesn’t. She’s there in vivid color, her blue eyes like beacons in the darkness. Until this moment, with her standing right in front of me, I haven’t allowed myself to speculate too deeply on where she’s been, or more importantly, with whom. Right now, however, with her coveted beauty staring me in the face, jealousy tries to reach into my chest and rip out my internal organs.
As if Veda senses this, she reaches down and threads our fingers together. “I stayed with one of my girlfriends from school.” There’s more I need to know and she’s aware of it. I know this by the way she peeks up at me from under long eyelashes. “She lives with her mom. Just her mom.”
Combined with the fact that I had Talvert removed from his position over a week ago, Veda’s explanation sends the burning in my chest fizzling down to a dull flame and I release a rush of breath. “Veda, I’ve gone completely mad.”
“I know,” she whispers, looking up at the gigantic, red, neon sign, the glow of it painting her face. “I saw it all the way from Brooklyn.”
Needing to reacquaint myself with every part of her, I unzip her raincoat with my free hand and push both sides apart, finding her in a short, white summer dress. My favorite among the ones I bought her, although she wouldn’t have known that, since she never got around to trying them on for me. She sways a little under my perusal, more of her body becoming visible as the rain dampens the material.
I’m assaulted by so much hunger, my head feels like it’s floating while my gut is filled with lead. “Why have you returned to a mad man, angel?”
After a few seconds, she lifts my hand to her mouth, running her tongue across my knuckles. Christ. And there’s that flash of mischief in her demeanor I remember so well, the proof she’s a touch dangerous. “I think maybe I’m a little mad, too.”
No more waiting. I grab Veda and reverse our positions, pushing her body up against the high ledge, slipping my hands inside the jacket so I can cradle her hips. “Why do you say that?”
She lays her head back on the concrete wall, sticking her tongue out to catch a few raindrops. “Because I missed you. Even though you are sort of evil.” Her eyelids flutter down, so she can’t see my astonishment, my utter relief that she actually missed me. Has anyone ever noticed and disliked my absence before? No. I don’t think so. “Every night, I lay in bed and think about…how much you must have wanted me. To buy me. A-and…”
“And what?” I demand.
“I remember you at the party and how lonely you looked.” She rolls her head side to side. “Maybe I was sent onto this roof after you for a reason. Because the thought of you lonely makes me hurt. So much. And I think I need you just as bad.” While I reel under the power of those words, she leans up to whisper in my ear. “When I think of you buying me now…it makes me angry and…wet…at the same time. And then I remember that’s exactly how I felt whenever you were inside of me.” Her shy explanation turns my cock to steel, robs me of reason, of breath. “I needed to feel that way again—the way I feel when you’re pushing into me the hardest—and I couldn’t do it myself. But Ramsey?”