Her face went sad. “No, you’ll always hold the title for most kick-ass,” she said quietly.
I shook the moment off. “Well yes, because of my choice of footwear. Much better ass-kicking attire than those.” I nodded to her pink open-toed stilettos. They looked expensive, no doubt a gift from Asher. He did that often. Gave her shit, shit that she never could have afforded. He spoiled her.
I loved him for that too.
“Does Lucky know about this?” Lily asked in the car on the way to the club.
“Yeah, he knows,” I muttered.
“Oh I sense juice,” Rosie said, tapping the staring wheel.
“How did he take it? Not the best, I’m guessing,” Lily asked.
“You could say that,” I muttered, my body going cold at his violent reaction. “He’s dealing.”
Lily gaped at me. “Lucky’s dealing?” she repeated.
Rosie met my eyes. “Does dealing mean he’s going to brandish his gun at the door and make sure no one with a dick enters the premises?”
I folded my arms, frowning. “No, we spoke about that. He promised not to shoot anyone.”
Rosie grinned. “Yeah, he promised not to shoot anyone. That still doesn’t rule out threatening to shoot.”
“Fuck,” I muttered as we pulled into the parking lot. I grabbed my phone.
Me: You are also forbidden from brandishing any kind of deadly weapon to intimidate people tonight.
I gathered my stuff and got ready to exit the car. Lily’s small voice stopped me. “Are you sure you want to do this, babe?” she asked, her face pinched with concern.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I whined.
Rosie raised her brow at me. “Maybe because it’s only been a month and a half since you’ve gotten back from Dante’s Inferno and you’re ready to strip in front of half the male population?” she deadpanned.
I scowled at her. “I’m not sure what everyone expects me to do. Hide away in my bedroom, too scared to face the world in case it presents me with horrors? Not really my style.” I didn’t add that, alone at night, in my bedroom, was where the worst horrors were presented.
“And that’s why I want to be you when I grow up,” Rosie said, smiling sadly.
“Oh trust me, you do not want to be like this.”
She frowned. “Agree to disagree, babe.”
I rolled my eyes and looked back to Lily. “You understand why I’ve got to do this?” I asked quietly.
She chewed her lip. “Yeah,” she whispered. “But I fucking hate that I understand it. I hate that you have to.”
Her tears hit me hard.
She managed to pull it together. “But I’m also proud. And I know Mom would be too.”
Okay, right in the heart. Or the lump of coal that was lying in my ribcage. My phone dinged.
Gabriel: No fair :( That means I can’t come at all because my entire body is a deadly weapon. Take it back.
I would have thought such an expression was impossible after Lily’s words, but I grinned down at the text.
Me: You’re officially an idiot. I’ll clarify to say no physical weapons of any sort to be used.
“What’s so funny?” Lily asked as we walked to the doors.
I glanced up. “Just Lucky.”
She smiled. “Remind me to kiss that man when I see him.”
Get in line, sister.
I was fine with the multitude of stares from the girls and bikers in the club when I arrived. Even with the old lady posse who swarmed me as soon as I walked in. Though, thankfully, they must have been clued in on my ‘no touch’ rule because they kept their distance. I was fine putting makeup on in the crowded dressing room, fielding the stares of the fellow dancers, pretending not to hear their whispers. They weren’t malicious, but I didn’t think they expected me there.
I was fine slipping into my costume for the night.
Well, fine wasn’t exactly it. I was desperate for a fucking fix. I sat in my dressing chair, tapping my feet and fingers just so I didn’t scratch my arms raw. Doing this sober, while trying not to think of what I was doing and how much it affected Gabriel, was not a breeze.
But I managed.
Just.
Gabriel: Break a leg.
Gabriel: Please don’t actually break anything.
Gabriel: Now I’m worried about the safety precautions of this place. It doesn’t have a good track record. I heard someone got shot here.
Gabriel: Take good care of those legs please.
His rapid-fire texts not only gave me something to concentrate on, but something to smile about. Not actually smile, but almost smile.
“You’re up, babe,” Cadence said.
My blood ran cold but I stood, reluctantly placing my phone and my connection to Gabriel down.
She looked me up and down. “You look hot.”
I did. Slathered in heavy makeup and red lipstick, my newly cropped hair spiking out in all directions. My outfit wasn’t much, all black with suspenders, ripped fishnets, and combat boots, but it was me. And me was good.