12
Murphy’s Evo is easily the oldest of the three sports cars in the garage, but the white paint is immaculate, the rims are new and the sound of the refurbished old engine is heaven as he pulls into the club's back lot.
Birdie climbs from the car and wanders around into the headlights in a leather skirt that melted to the upper skin of her tattooed thighs and wrap top that clung to her chest and left nothing to the imagination.
The connection wasn’t made earlier when they mentioned his name, but Jesse Mele steps out of the shadows and does a quick, enthusiastic hand shake with Birdie.
No longer the scrawny shit disturber I remember, Jesse is made up of more muscle, and every inch of his warm skin is stained with heavy ink.
He turns his head as Murphy and I get out of the car, the only thing about him that’s remotely the same is the unkempt, shaggy brunet hair and its chunky, faded dirty blond highlights.
“Who told you that mustache looked good?”
His face curls up in annoyance as he takes me in.
“I need to talk to them about lying.” I smile at him and his eyes widen.
“Cress?” His shock turns to excitement and he charges toward me only to bring me into a massive bear hug.
“There’s no fucking way.” He pulls back to stare at me again, baffled in the funniest New Zealand accent.
“I like this mustache.” He feigns offence and rubs his hand over it. “Lookin’ slick, Murph.” He nods.
Murphy is a different animal tonight, like he’s playing a part.
His hair is brushed and styled, the glasses are gone, and his green eyes follow the commotion around us.
He changed out of his sweater into a white muscle tank and a flowy button-up t-shirt that he’s got tucked into a pair of black jeans.
Gone is the nerd from the garage. It’s almost jarring, but he smiles and I remember that beneath the change he’s still there, soft as ever.
“You look hot,” Jesse huffs and steps back from me, still holding my hand. “If Koa wasn’t in his grave, he would be from this.” He jokes but no one laughs; the subject is a bit touchy. “Sorry,” he grimaces, “might have been a little dark.”
“It’s okay,” I hum, “and you’re right.” I look down at myself in the tight black dress and swallow tightly. I’ve never worn anything like this in my life. But Birdie had insisted that we look good to commit murder, for half a second I was concerned and then remembered who I was dealing with.
“And you’ve been running around stabbing men?” Jesse chuffs. “It’s like I don’t even know ya.”
“He started it,” I tease gently and Jesse nods, strands of his hair falling around his face.
“What’s the plan tonight?” he claps, turning to Murphy who fishes his phone from his jeans and shows him the images of the guy. “Oi.” He stares at the phone. “That guy’s in there right now. Saw him on my way out.”
“Good,” Birdie says with murder glimmering in her eyes. Jesse clocks the expression and looks over at me and Murphy.
“What’d he do that deserves that?” he asks.
“Turns out I didn’t stab him hard enough.” I say with a nervous smile.
Jesse tips his head back and laughs with his whole body. “Alright, so we’re finishing the job. Bird’s favorite pastime.”
“You make me sound insane, Jes.” She rolls her eyes and tucks her hand into his arm.
“You are insane, my little cuckoo bird,” he chuckles. “Whatya need from me?” He asks.
“Keep your eye on Cress—both of you, if you can manage it,” Murphy says before anyone else can give him instructions. “If it gets bad in there, take her to the garage and don’t leave her until one of us gets home.”
“Aye,” he nods, his face growing more serious. Birdie squeezes his arm and the four of us make our way inside the club.
I snake my hand into Murphy’s and he looks back at me with concern as we navigate the packed space.
It feels too small for this many bodies and the strobing lights bounce around the walls, cutting through the hazy, smoky air as they move in time with the overwhelming EDM music.
He keeps me close until we break out into a small area that has couches and tables around the back wall.
Leaning down to half his height he brings his mouth to my ear.
“If you see him first just squeeze my hand.” He says it loud enough for me to hear it over the music.
When I turn Jesse is handing me a glass and I shake my head.
I don’t want alcohol but he mouths the word water and tries to give it to me again.
I take it this time and thank him with a smile.
“We look suspicious!” Birdie snaps. “I’m going to dance,” she says before even giving Murphy a chance to argue.
She tugs on my hand and pulls me through the packed dancefloor until we're closer to the middle. Everyone makes a little space and Birdie starts to dance, looking completely unbothered by what we’re about to do but I try to follow her lead.
I let the music move down through me and before long the two of us mirror each other in movements.
Birdie never stops scanning the crowd, her eyes sharp and completely on guard every single song despite the sensual curve of her dancing.
It’s when her jaw tightens that I know she’s spotted him. I do my best not to turn but Birdie dances us in a circle so I can see what she sees. He’s standing by the bar with a drink in his hand, talking to some girl who looks too young for him.
Birdie leans in. “I’m going to get him to come over here. When I do, I want you to go find Murphy. Do you hear me?” she snaps and I refocus on her face with a nod.
We move again so she can make eye contact with him and whatever she does next works because her hands move down her body and I watch the flicker of her blade flip out and catch the lights above us even in the darkness between our bodies.
I feel a hand on my back as he moves around us and puts himself in between. Birdie gives me a look and I step back, terrified of what’s to come but curious enough not to listen to her. I move away just enough that I can still see her as she completely distracts him from what’s in her hands.
It all happens so fast. Her hand moves in time with the music that pulses down through the club.
With each beat the knife flashes, and I watch his body twitch in pain.
His glass crashes to the floor and at first it looks like they're dancing, but in horrifying reality, he’s trying to block her next move.
Birdie moves clear of his strike, her boots sliding through the glass without effort and his hand crashes into the back of another guy.
This is part of her plan: chaos. I inhale and step back but get trapped by a wall of bodies and am forced to watch the chaos.
I whip my head around to find Murphy or Jesse but can’t see either of them through the sea of sweaty bodies.
A fight starts and somehow he’s not part of it.
More people start to get involved and the fight grows out of control as she continues to mess with him with quick, powerful strikes, but he’s not stupid enough to stay put.
He whirls around and comes face to face with me.
His cheek is bleeding and his eyes are glassy from the pain.
“You?” His expression turns vicious and his hand whips out to grab for my throat, but Birdie is fast and drags the knife across the underside of his forearm causing him to howl in pain.
This slice is deeper than the rest because the blood pours viciously to his finger tips.
He has a choice, stay and fight, or run.
His eyes turn dark and he steps forward as I slip backward through the crowd.
I lose Birdie in the shuffle but I can feel his footsteps closing in on me as I dart between all the havoc that’s been caused.
Bouncers are trying to calm people down but the brawl grows larger and soon the entire club is up in arms.
The darkness that consumes the corners of the building makes it hard to stay stable on my feet, and my heart is racing so fast that I can’t hear anything but the sound of it thumping wildly in my ears.
A hand grabs my arm and yanks roughly, throwing me against a nearby wall but I drive my knee upwards and catch him in the balls hard enough to make him gasp for air.
I dart back toward the bathrooms as quickly as I can, just hoping that someone saw me go. I crash inside and there's a few girls inside that yelp at the intrusion. They’re huddled around the line of coke at the sink and I don’t have the spare second to ask them to leave politely.
“They’re raiding the place!” I yell, short of breath, and watch them all panic to get their asses out of the bar.
“Hurry!” I scream, and the last girl scurries from the bathroom as I crash into the closest stall and lock the door before climbing up on the toilet.
Luckily Birdie lent me a pair of sneakers, in case things go sideways.
“Things are sideways, Bird,” I whisper to myself and brace against the walls of the stalls to stop from trembling.
The bathroom door swings open and a pair of heavy boots stumble instead. I know it’s not Murphy, it’s too heavy and Birdie would have announced herself.
“Stupid.” The stall at the end of the row bangs against itself.
“Little.” The entire flimsy stall beside me rattles as it’s assaulted. I hold my breath as his boots position at the door I hide behind.
“Bit—” The door flies open and I brace for the attack but his body sways to the side awkwardly and his lips part, but only a strangled gurgle of what’s left of his life leaves him.
Birdie’s knife sticks out of the side of his neck and blood pours down over his chest, staining his dress shirt.
All the color drains from his skin before his body even hits the ground.
“Are you alright?” Birdie asks and doesn’t give me a moment to answer before she’s ripping the knife free from his throat. “If you aren’t, that’s okay but you need to panic in the car not here.”
I nod, hearing her loud and clear. Murphy and Jesse slam into the bathroom, skidding to a stop at the sight of the body.
“Good on ya, Bird,” Jesse praises and holds out his hand to me. “We should skedaddle before the blue suits make an appearance.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to deal with cops,” Murphy confirms. I take Jesse’s hand and step down from the toilet seat, and he helps me as I gingerly step over the body.
“Wait!” I tug out of his grasp as we start to move from the bathroom and turn back to the body, careful to avoid the blood but start to rifle through his pockets. There’s a card inside and a small black flip phone.
Murphy takes both from me and we slip out the back door, completely unbothered by the mass chaos still happening on the dance floor. We’re barely in the cars and on the move when flashing police lights illuminate the buildings around the club to bring the small riot to a halt.
Birdie looks back at me from the front seat and it’s like dealing with our problem awakened something in her chest because the light is back in her eyes and she smiles at me gently.
I hate that Koa would be proud.