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At their monikers, which kicked ass, I wondered if we should have gone the stripper name route rather than the Angels, because, as just had very recently been proved, the Angels were obvious.
“You really walk up to that asshole’s house and demand his Rolex?” Lotus, a white woman with fake breasts and a belly-button piercing, who was lounged back in one of the chairs by the window, inquired.
I was seeing why we suddenly had assistance from these ladies.
“Extortion isn’t that easy,” I educated. “His wife was home, and I laid on the doorbell about thirty seconds too long. His wife was worried about who was at the door. If she wasn’t there, we’d be fucked.”
“Dope,” Lotus replied.
“Why are we here?” Luna asked Jinx.
“Divinity’s missing,” Jinx answered.
Oh snap.
I hadn’t had time to peruse theRepublicthe last few days.
Did I miss the report?
My girls looked at each other.
Jinx’s girls looked at us.
“Are there more women missing than are reported?” I asked.
“How would we know?” Skyla answered. “If I disappeared, no one would report me.”
“I would,” Cameo said softly.
Skyla gave her a surprised look, then her face gentled.
Aw.
“You need to find Jumper,” Persia told us, taking us out of the moment.
We turned to her.
“Jumper?” Luna asked.
“Jumper. Think his real first name is Guy. Don’t know his last,” Persia said. “He was banging Bambi.”
“You mean her boyfriend? Jazz?” I asked.
Persia busted out laughing, turning to her girls.
“Jazz,” she said, his name shaking with her hilarity.
“More like Jizz,” Genesis said.
“More like Numnuts,” Cameo put in.
“Jackass.” That was Skyla.
“Meathead.” Persia.
“Mutt.” Lotus.
“Cabrón.” Jinx.
