CHAPTER 17
Slamming the door shut on the taxi, I placed a cigarette between my lips, taking in a long drag before allowing the smoke to trickle from my lips.
Another successful visit to Selene, another stack of cash jammed into my back pocket.
Tiredness hung behind my eyes as I unlocked the door with a subtle thunk, a small smile appearing on my face as I pulled the cash out from my pocket, stroking it through my fingers.
Rounding the corner to the living room, my eyes grew wide as I froze in place. Slumped low in the battered armchair across the room, as if it belonged to her, legs draped over one side.
Misfit.
A half-smile curled up on her face like she’d been waiting hours and was only mildly amused by the inconvenience.
She didn’t speak right away, just tilted her head. Eyes flicking down to the money in my hand.
“Miss me?” she said. I didn’t move; I just stared at her relaxed posture, her arms hugging the chair. How the fuck did she get in? The lock wasn’t broken, and there were no signs of forced entry. Too many questions circled my mind.
“You look surprised. Did you honestly think I’d stay away?” The tension between us quickly shifted, buzzing like a wire ready to snap.
The last time I saw her, I’d left her with knives still warm in her palms, and a look in her eyes that said next time, I won’t hesitate. And now, she was here. Like no time had passed. Like we weren’t dangerous to each other.
Nah, not today.
I spun on my heels and walked out, leaving the door ajar, only hearing the faint sound of her voice as I hit the steps two at a time.
“Aw, come on Screech, don’t be like that!” I kept walking, pulling the cigarette from my mouth and held it at my side. Her footsteps came up behind me quick and purposeful.
“Running away from me Screech? That's not very nice.” She called after me, setting out into a run to catch up to my side. I wasn’t in the mood for her today. I was tired, and my body ached for rest.
“Ignoring me too. Wow.”
I sighed, fiddling with the cigarette in my fingers, “Sorry, cupcake, Daddy’s not in the mood.
Why don’t you go play with your other friends?
” I stopped in my tracks as I playfully brought my finger to my mouth.
“Oh, wait. You don’t have any.” She just stood glaring at me with a coldness only she could pull off.
I continued walking down the street, but it didn’t take her long to be at my side once again.
“Okay, firstly, what childish bullshit was that? That was low, even for you.” Her voice was flat as I sensed her annoyance. “Secondly, who needs friends when I have the voices in my head to keep me company?”
I glanced at her through the side of my eyes, feeling my smirk widening. Her coy, exaggerated smile beaming back at me. I wouldn’t put it past the crazy bitch to have internal voices, that’s for sure.
I shook my head as I continued towards the street, “Ok then fine, if you overdid it last week, we can have a chill one this time. I’m thinking drinks. You can buy.”
My voice quickly snapped towards her, “I don’t drink with people I don’t trust.”
Her mouth opened in a playful, shocked expression, “Ouch! That almost hurt.” I smirked, “Come on, one drink and I’ll leave you alone. Scouts honour.” I paused; shoulders stiff. That same steady confidence spilling from her, like she already knew I’d cave.
“You were never a scout.”
“And I’ve never been that honourable either, but what can you do?” Holding out her hands on either side of her. She continued, “Anyway, it’s not like you can’t afford it, moneybags. Where’d you get the cash from? Rob a bank?”
My hesitation to answer instantly gave me away, “Don’t worry about it.”
She chuckled at my side, “I’m not worried. Just nosey. Been doing something dodgy?”
Another deep breath leaving me, she wasn’t going to drop it. “Do you always ask this many questions?”
“Are you always so painfully fucking vague?”
I rolled my eyes; she didn’t need to know about that part of my life.
One drink. That’s what she said, and that’s what I told myself when she walked beside me. Both of us were silent as I turned off the main strip, ducking down the side alley where the neon buzz of a hole-in-the-wall bar flickered like a faulty pulse.
I turned to her, gripping the door handle, “One drink,” my voice low and assertive.
I already knew this was a bad idea as she walked past me with the cocky little smile.
No one inside was worth noticing—dim booths.
A sketchy-looking bartender perched on a stool, looking half dead.
Misfit pushed through the crowd ahead of me, like she owned the place.
I remained on edge with her, but she seemed to move differently tonight.
More relaxed and assured in my presence.
She slung herself against the counter, fingers drumming out a rhythm, eyes scanning the bottles. The bartender stepped closer to her.
“Vodka,” Misfit ordered, not even looking at him.
He hesitated for a beat, then grabbed the bottle off the back shelf.
Turning to place it down, Misfit reached out and plucked it clean from his grip, like it had always belonged to her.
No thanks, no blink. She turned on her heel, bottle dangling loosely in her hand.
“One drink,” her tone now mocking. I sighed, pulling out notes from my pocket. The bartender raised a brow at me, unimpressed.
“You with her?”
I nodded once, “Unfortunately. So, pour me something strong. I’m gonna fucking need it.”
Sliding the notes across the counter, I looked to her over my shoulder, now situated in a darkened booth on the back wall. Her head tilted, already taking a swig like it was water, I couldn’t help the way my lips curled into a crooked smile.
I approached the table, placing my glass down, “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Slight annoyance beneath it.
“I do, yeah.” She smiled towards me before touching her lips with the bottle.
Well, that one drink turned into many. Seemed to be the only way I was going to get through this without either of us trying to kill each other.
Misfit had the bottle perched on the table, one knee up, balancing her chin on it as she watched me with that same damn look.
Half-smirk, the rest a loose threat and curiosity.
She took another pull from the bottle and licked her bottom lip, slowly.
She started, her voice honeyed with trouble, “Come on then, where’d you get it?”
My brow furrowed in confusion, “What?”
She quickly countered, “The money. You’re clearly doing something dodgy.”
I leaned back, arm stretched over the booth, eyes scanning the bar. “Just drop it.”
That only made her lean in closer. “Why? What’s the problem?” She paused, swirling the vodka in the bottle absently. “Got something to hide, Screech?” I stiffened before I could stop myself. I clenched my hand around my glass.
“It’s none of your business, that’s why.” If she found out just a small fraction of my life, she would think I’m weak—a perfect target for her to get her jollies from. I wasn’t about to let that happen.
A grin tugged at the edge of her lips, “It is when you’re acting all shifty.” My eyes fixed on hers as she continued. “That apartment too. Not your actual place, is it? Who’s place is that? And why do you have a key?”
My jaw tensed at her interrogation, “I said, drop it.” Lowering my voice as frustration started to build within me.
She chuckled, leaning back in her seat, “Or what?” she said flatly. She raised a brow. She was poking the bear, and I couldn’t control it; she always knew the buttons to press.
And this time I snapped, slamming my hand hard against the table, “I said, DROP IT!” My voice rising above the music of the bar. My angered eyes shifted onto her, “You don’t know a damn thing about what I do, or where I go, or who I am! And you’re not going to push me on this! Understand?!”
She held my gaze for a moment, a smirk peeking through, which only angered me more. She got what she wanted; my reaction was enough to tell her everything. God, this fucking girl.
“Fine. Fine, relax moneybags. Just asking.”
A silence set in between us. I was annoyed with myself for letting her push me to that point so easily. Didn’t take her long, did it. But alas, she continued her defiant interrogation.
“Come on then.”
My eyes lazily drifting to hers, “What now?” Frowning, alerting her to my ever-growing annoyance at her questioning.
“What was in your file?” I turned from her. Of course, she would bring up my file; this girl was nothing but consistent. I tried to ignore her, hoping she might just continue drinking.
“Oi! Don’t act deaf with me.” Her boot nudged my leg under the table, jolting me slightly. My head lolled to the side, seeing her growing smirk.
“What was in your file that made you snap? What didn’t you want me seeing?”
A deep, heavy sigh leaves me before taking a long swig of my drink, placing it down slowly onto the table, trying to hold it together.
“Again. Just drop it Misfit.”
“I’m getting real bored of that as an answer, you shifty fuck.”
I snapped back, “And I’m getting bored with being interrogated today.”
She paused before continuing, “I’ve seen you pissed off before Screech. Plenty of times. But that, in juvie … that was something else. Bloodthirsty in nought to sixty.” Her words began to slur as she started to reach the bottom of the bottle.
I ran my fingers through my hair, shaking my head slightly, “You’re relentless.”
Her smirk widened, “Aw. And I thought you liked that about me.” I didn’t answer that. Instead, I leaned forward, elbows on the table.