“My condolences,” I smirked.
“I think your dad’s going to be there too,” Gemma added.
“Why the fuck would he need to be there?” He had no reason to put his nose in that part of Gio’s business. He was either putting himself where he didn’t belong, or he had a relationship of some kind with Lauren’s dad. Either scenario wasn’t good.
“Your dad works for Gemma’s dad, right?” Finn asked.
There he goes again, asking questions he didn’t need answered.
“Yeah,” Gemma nodded, her eye twitching with the realization that we needed to be careful around anyone who wasn’t our blood. That’s just the way our world worked–and Gemma knew that even being sheltered from most of it.
“WellI’llbe at work,” I smiled. “Make sure to document any meltdowns for me.”
“It still amazes me that you work in a club like Ethereal,” Finn grinned. “Just because of your age, not because of–uh, anything else.”
“What can I say? I’ve always been a rule-breaker,” I smirked as I stood up and collected my bag. I was meeting with Rachel in the library before our next class started–one last chat before everything went down tomorrow night. “I have to go talk to the librarian about a book I need, so I’ll see you two later.”
Once I’d left the table after that lame excuse, I went to the library and headed for the back row of books–the old sets of encyclopedias that nobody ever used. The ones that stunk like musty basement.
Rachel was there waiting for me. She was pacing–obviously nervous over what was about to happen. She chewed on her lip as she turned and saw me.
“You’re late,” she whispered.
“No, baby. I’m on time. We aren’t working on your schedule, remember? I’m the one doing all the dirty work.”
Yes, I wanted to help. No, she wouldn’t be giving me shit about it. I did things my way on my time. Take it or fucking leave it.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m just so…nervous. I think he knows something’s up. He’s been nicer than usual.”
“It’s fine. I get it. This is all new for you, but you have nothing to worry about now. We’re going to take care of everything. The only thing you need to do is act normal. Pretend like it’s just a regular day.”
She nodded and smiled somewhat. She’ll be smiling a fuck of a lot more once the deal was done and Otis was no more.
“It’s happening tomorrow,” I said quietly. “But it can only happen if I’m sure that you’re not going to freak out. You need to stay cool, Rach. It’simperativethat you. Stay. Cool.”
“I can do it. I have to. Not just for me, but for my brother. Who knows what’s going to happen to him once I’m out of the house in a few years.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page. Now…we won’t talk again. I won’t even look at you in the hallway. This transaction is done, okay?” I smiled, patting her shoulder. It was as close as I could get to comforting her.
“I can never repay you for this,” Rachel said, her voice thick with emotion.
“Trust me, getting to do it is payment enough.”
Iflippeddownthevisor on the old Chevy Cruze I “borrowed” from the Moretti’s garage–their spare garage, of course. Nothing in the main garage retailed for less than $100k. I adjusted my wig in the tiny mirror, opting for a deep red tonight.Scarlett, as I liked to call her. She was one of my favorite personas.
My dark eye makeup was on point, and I wore a black velvet minidress that was so tight, I’d probably have to cut it off later. I had a few syringes filled with propofol lodged in the holster on my thigh–and a knife tucked into my black boot.
I was ready to get to the fun part.
I strutted into the place Otis frequented every Wednesday, some dump called Fat Cats, and sidled up to the bar. It looked like a place where bikers would hang. Dust covered the gaudy wall decor, and there was a tint of yellow from before the cigarette ban went into effect. The bar stools were ripped black pleather, and the bar top was a 1970s special–golden Formica that hadn’t seen a good scrubbing in years.
I swatted a fly as the bartender glanced at me. He was older, with gray hair and tattoos covering his wrinkly arms. He shuffled over and asked what I wanted to drink. I flashed him my fake ID after I ordered a vodka and cranberry.
I was surprised he even asked for my ID.
“Scarlett, huh? What are the chances your name is the same as your hair color?” The guy grinned as he handed my ID back.
I forced a smile as I tucked it into my bra. “Pretty fucking slim.”