SIX
P oison browsed through the clothing racks of Urban Rebel, smiling to herself at the sight of Nina. With her blonde hair, blue eyes, and yellow sundress, she stood out like a single sunflower in a burned landscape.
Poison traced her fingers over the metal spikes on the shoulders of a black leather jacket and down the chains that hung from it. Picking her size from the hanger, she added it to the bundle of clothes in her arms and walked to the fitting room.
Nina trailed behind her and sat on a stool in front of the curtain as she entered a stall.
“Let me get this straight,” Nina called through the drawn curtains, her voice tinged with curiosity and skepticism. “You met this guy last night?”
“That’s correct,” Poison mumbled as she pulled a black tank top over her head, her thoughts drifting back to the fire dancing in Scorpion’s eyes as he fought.
“And he bailed you out of work today, already introducing you to his friends,” Nina continued, the disbelief evident.
“Uh-huh,” she replied, trying to steady her voice. She was grateful for the cubicle’s privacy, feeling the heat of emotions swirl within her.
“And now you’re going on a date with said guy?” Nina’s tone was incredulous.
“I believe that’s what I just told you,” she said, peeking through the curtains to smile at Nina. Her heart pounded, but she felt a thrill of excitement snaking its way into her chest.
All she received, in turn, was a pair of perfectly-plucked, raised eyebrows. Nina’s expression was full of concern and amusement.
“Come on, Neen. He’s not just some guy. He’s Scorpion. Probably the best fighter in the whole country. He’s legendary.” Her voice held a note of awe, the reality of who he was sinking in more deeply.
She didn’t think it was possible, but Nina’s eyebrows raised even higher. “Legendary or not, this all sounds pretty intense,” she said, her tone softening.
“Hey, no judging. You and Nick started dating because you stalked him,” she teased, stepping back behind the curtains. She couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, trying to deflect the serious nature of Nina’s questions.
“Hun, Nick is the exception, not the rule,” Nina countered with affectionate exasperation.
“In your dating history, definitely, yes.” Poison’s laughter bubbled up, a release of the tension that had been gripping her chest for the past few days.
She emerged from behind the curtains, twirling slowly with her arms wide to give Nina a complete view of the outfit. The black tank top she picked clung to her frame, accentuating her full, toned curves.
Nina’s critical eye softened into a smile. “You look amazing, P. Just be careful, okay?”
She nodded, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. “I will, Neen. I promise.” But as she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but feel excited and nervous at the same time. What am I getting myself into? she wondered, the thought both thrilling and terrifying.
The fitting room lights cast a warm glow, and for a moment, she allowed herself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could be something different. Something real. She turned to Nina, her smile genuine. “Thanks for always having my back.”
“Always,” Nina said, her voice firm and full of love. “Now go knock him dead.”
Poison laughed, the sound light and free.
She spent the next thirty minutes trying on clothes before finally choosing her outfit: faded black ripped jeggings, buckled, knee-high, combat boots, and a black button-up blouse.
Nina clutched her chest dramatically and stumbled backward as if fainting, only to snap back with an exaggerated silent scream. Poison couldn’t help but chuckle at her friend’s theatrics.
“So, how do I look?” she probed, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Ooh!” Nina’s voice pitched high in feigned surprise. “Scorpion won’t know what hit him tonight! You’re going to leave him speechless.” Her contagious and bright laughter filled the room.
The compliment sent a warm flush creeping over her cheeks, and she retreated behind the curtains, seeking refuge from Nina’s teasing gaze.
After slipping into her own clothes again, she walked with Nina toward the checkout. The Poseur, on his way to the changing room, jumped aside at the sight of her, making it clear he wanted no part in blocking her way.
Before she had a chance to dig out her wallet, Nina had already flashed her credit card to the cashier and paid for everything.
“Bish…” She stared at Nina in disbelief. “Cancel that transaction, now,” she ordered, but the girl behind the counter only continued chewing her.
She gave a shrug so laden with boredom; it was the most disinterested gesture Poison had ever witnessed before the clerk returned to staring at her phone.
It was just like Nina to do something like that. She couldn’t help but wonder why she always felt the need to pay when they were together. As if she felt responsible for her.
With her new outfit in hand, she stepped out of the store, feeling a twinge of guilt for letting Nina cover the bill again. They made their way through the crowded sidewalk, heading to where she had parked her bike.
Once they reached it, she unclipped her helmet from her backpack and swung her leg over it in one smooth motion. Nina pulled her into a tight hug, full of genuine warmth.
“Really, Nina, I can’t thank you enough. I owe you so much,” she said, and the words were about so much more than just the clothes.
Pulling her helmet over her head, she was grateful for the visor that hid her face—displaying emotions wasn’t something she was comfortable with. But she promised herself that she would find a way to repay Nina for everything. She just had no idea how.
“Hey, it’s nothing,” Nina insisted with a seriousness that did not tolerate argument.
She opened her mouth, wanting to insist, to protest, but Nina was quick to cut her off. “I mean it; don’t worry about it. What are friends for, right? Just make sure you have a great time tonight.”
“I will,” she replied, the bike’s engine rumbling to life beneath her. “Thanks, Neen,” she called out, then sped off, leaving Nina waving goodbye until she blended in with the rush of yellow taxis.
She entered her apartment lobby through the parking lot access door. The familiar scent of stale air and cleaning chemicals hung in the air and assaulted her senses and she sighed when she saw her landlord.
“Seriously, Vince,” she scoffed, spotting the burly man leaning against the front desk, his beady eyes tracking her every move. “This is the second time in one day. Don’t you have other tenants to stalk?”
“I would watch my tone if I were you, Missy,” he retorted, wagging a fat finger in her face. His breath smelled of cigars and cheap coffee. “But I have a message for you.”
She rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. “Well, luckily, for your sake, you’re not me. You’d have been dead already. But seeing as you’re taking my messages, why are you paying a doorman?”
Vince’s face twisted into a sneer as he studied her, his gaze lingering uncomfortably long. “What exactly is it that you do at night when you get back in the early morning hours?” His voice dripped with insinuation, a
slimy smile tugging the corners of his mouth.
She felt a wave of revulsion. “Vince, even if I was a prostitute, there isn’t enough money in the world for me to sleep with you.”
His smile widened, eyes gleaming with perverse delight. “Then why was there a Mister Thompson phoning for your services tonight?” he challenged.
She clenched her fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. She was going to fucking kill Scorpion for this. “Did he have anything else to say?” she asked, keeping her face neutral despite the rage simmering below the surface.
“Just that he’d be acquiring your services at nine pm. When you’re done with him, you know where I live.”
Her nose wrinkled at the thought of Vince touching her. She mustered all the calm she could, her voice icy. “Mister Thompson requires a different kind of service, and you, Vince, are delusional if you think I’d ever consider your proposition.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a gesture that didn’t escape his leering gaze. “My time is valuable and certainly not something you could afford or appreciate. As for where you live, I’d rather not
tarnish my shoes on your doorstep.”
Vince’s smug expression faltered, a flicker of anger crossing his face. But she didn’t wait for his response. Her disdain for Vince was like a bad cough syrup to swallow, a sharp contrast to the calm composure she fought to maintain. She turned on her heel and took the stairs to her apartment.
Once in her home, she scanned through her messages, found the number Scorpion had texted her from, and pressed the call button as if squashing a bug.
He answered on the third ring. “Well, good afternoon, Little Viper.”
“You’re fucking hilarious. You know that?” she said as a way of greeting, sitting down on her couch.
“I assure you, I have no idea what you mean.” She could hear the smile in his voice.
“Do you have any idea what a creep my landlord is? And for you to insinuate that I’m a prostitute? The slime ball practically shoved the dollar bills into my bra.”
His laughter rang through the line, vibrating through her entire body, and she smiled.
“Fucking hilarious,” she repeated.
“I certainly thought so,” he said, once he caught his breath.
“So, I’m not even going to ask how you’re getting any of my numbers. I’m not sure I want to know. But were you calling to cancel?” She hoped not.
“I just wanted to ensure you weren’t canceling on me. I couldn’t reach you on your cell, so I tried the address.”
“I was out with a friend.”
“Oh, right. You did mention you wanted to check up on a friend,” He sounded surprised. “Anyone I would know?” The caution of their initial meeting was back in his voice. Or was it jealousy?
“No,” she answered, contemplating his response. “She’s a Normal.”
“So I’ll see you at nine?” He sounded less wary.
“I’ll see you then.”
She hung up and stared across the room. Her eye caught the time: seven o’clock. Jumping to her feet, she rushed to the bathroom to get ready.
In the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, trying to wash away the lingering annoyance from Vince.
She turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the room before stepping in. As the hot water cascaded over her, she allowed herself a moment of relaxation, letting the tension melt away. Her mind wandered to Scorpion, his laughter still echoing in her ears. She felt oddly excited and nervous about their date tonight.
The buzzer echoed through her apartment precisely at nine. She took her time, applying another layer of black lipstick, before gathering her things and heading downstairs. Scorpion deserved to wait for the stunt he pulled with Vince.
She was relieved to see the lobby deserted, except for the elderly doorman, who just smiled at her passing.
Once outside, she found Scorpion leaning against his bike. With his ankles crossed and hands stuffed into
his pockets, he studied his surroundings, always surveilling.
As he turned his head in her direction, she felt the breath hitch in her throat, time stretching into an unhurried flow, and everything happened in slow motion.
His gaze, under those thick, dark lashes, traced an unhurried journey from her toes, gliding up the length of her legs, igniting a trail of unseen flames before finally locking with hers. The slow appearance of a smile, tugging at those lips she’d often thought of kissing, sent a ripple of heat coursing through her, pooling between her legs.
Fuck, he looked like trouble on two legs, and she was so ready to dive headfirst into the chaos he promised. Gone was the uniform from last night and the tailored suit of this morning. In its place was a pair of black jeans, hugging every bulging curve of his lean muscled legs, tucked into steel-tip boots. His white t-shirt, though strung impossibly tight over his sculpted chest, was a stark contrast to the tattoos crawling from his left wrist to his elbow.
He got onto his bike without a word, and she envied the machine between his legs for several reasons. He grabbed the gas tank to steady himself and planted his palms on the metal so firmly that she wished it had been her ass instead. She stood, clenching her thighs, as he reached a hand out to her.
Silently, she took it and got onto the bike.