Chapter 3 #3
He spits a laugh, whispering, “Angry … but not about the war. Just angry.”
I nod, my smile turning tight. “That’s the point. To keep you angry at the enemy, rather than—” I turn my head away, not daring to let the next words leave my lips. I don’t trust anyone outside of home to say such words of mutiny aloud.
He must recognise my discomfort, as he sidesteps the blunder. “Home is my safe space. The place I recharge before facing reality.”
“That’s a nice outlook.”
He shrugs. “It’s how I survive… So, I won’t stop you from doing what you need to do to survive.” My smile inflates his into his eyes—not quite a grin, but enough to cause a squint. He playfully widens his eyes. “Just don’t go getting us into trouble.”
I laugh and lean into him. “I promise I’m on my best behaviour.”
He tauntingly scrunches his nose at me, pushing away from the counter to serve a customer.
The time and distance from my fathers affects me more than I want it to.
I had hardened at the diner, grown brave, but this move to the city has my defences wavering.
In the week since I climbed into the armoured truck to come here, there’s been an icy rush in my chest, mirroring the sensation of falling, but it’s lessening as I reestablish myself.
I reorganised my room to make a small exercise space for jumps, push-ups, and crunches, repurposing some water-filled plastic bottles as weights.
My routine demands the energy to charge my body for the day ahead, but Sasha is right about one thing: those girls can sleep through anything.
For as rare as women are in this world, Kelly and Tanya are even rarer.
They remain undisturbed between my morning workouts and the kitchen catch-ups with Sasha.
It’s reached the point where it’s weird that I haven’t met them yet, especially as I listen for them—scuttling in their room like nocturnal creatures in a nest—waiting to introduce myself in this bizarrely close shared space.
Sasha mentioned that they work at The Gentlemen’s Club, the crown jewel of Krick’s enterprise.
They’re treated like royalty, driven to and from the club, with their shopping done for them, while they only wake for work.
Today is my performance review, and I’m not nervous about it, because I know I’m giving my all—but I am nervous about meeting Krick.
Sasha mentioned him a couple of times, hinting at his power plays and wandering hands, which I am no stranger to, but it is an aggravating apprehension to add to my day.
After a quick stop at Seth’s to fetch lunch, I trail through the downpour, the rain trickling from the peak of my cap.
Every journey to work is timed to avoid the Unity Siren, and I only have to endure it from the customers.
And it feels a little easier since Joey knows I hate it, like he’s on my side.
Parked outside the bar is a large black SUV with gold rims and accents.
The raindrops are not enough to obscure the faces of those who admire it reflected in the polished, waxed surface.
I take a deep breath before I step inside the bar, hearing the baritone chatter from the porch, and I pull up a smile as I enter to find Joey standing behind the counter.
Krick sits on a bar-stool, laughing and boasting of his grizzly success with a woman.
Donnie stares at him like a gooey child before his idol, and Joey nods with a strained smile before lifting his gaze to me.
With Joey’s attention on me, the conversation stops, and with a slow turn, Krick’s bar-stool revolves, while the smile flops like a dead fish on Donnie’s face.
Despite the cold weather, Krick wears a barely buttoned turquoise tiger-print shirt, revealing a collection of gold chains around his neck, resting on a mesh of dark chest hair.
Rouged blemishes texture his face, and as I get closer, it appears that lace has been pressed into his skin, leaving a patterned mark.
There is nothing symmetrical about his face; even his yellow-bleached tuft mullet appears uneven.
His dark horseshoe moustache is the only well-maintained feature.
He remains sitting on the stool, with a crumple of his nose and lips displaying utter disdain, until I realise why.
I remove my sodden baseball cap, letting my long hair fall past my shoulders, dropping the tension from his face.
“Hi, I’m Lee.” I look over, offering a small wave. “Hi, Donnie,” I say as Donnie awkwardly continues to stare, and I’m not sure he didn’t just scoff at me. Fucking asshole.
I offer to shake Krick’s hand, and his encases mine, pulling me in while studying my face.
My skin shivers beneath his touch as he continues to hold me, building an unwelcome heat as he strokes along my palm with his release, leaving me itching to wipe my hand against my jeans.
I unzip my coat while heading behind the counter to stand with Joey.
“Hey, wait. Let me look at you.”
His voice has a deep rumble—one that I could hear anywhere in this room—and the words are minimal, but the intention is immense.
I grit my teeth, slowly pulling off my coat to present what he wishes to see.
His investment. His property. That beady glare frisks my body, feeling as intimate as his hand upon mine, but I can’t shy away; I refuse to give him the satisfaction of intimidating me.
He hops off the stool, and now standing, he’s only an inch or two taller than me, tilting his head, squinting.
“Are you planning on getting changed now that you’re here?”
“No, I wasn’t going to… These are my clothes.”
He points his finger up and down. “Can we wear less? And maybe some makeup?”
With chunky black leather boots and a green plaid shirt over a vest top with jeans, I’m aware it’s not a classic sex-appeal ensemble. “I think this is enough for the job, but I suppose … it’s not up to me, is it?” I say with a tight smile.
A rattling laugh spurts from his throat.
“No, you’re right.” He reaches his gold-jewelled fingers into his pocket, pulling out a roll of dollar bills, and glances towards the clock.
“Donnie, take her down to Mabel’s and bring her back.
Joey will start the day without her.” He plants the roll of cash in Donnie’s palm.
My teeth clench so tight that my ears rumble, like the boiling bubble of my blood as the fury builds, and it pushes me to blurt out, “How about a deal?”
At which Krick’s ears twitch and his nostrils flare.