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"Mmhmm. What time does it start?"
"Nine or we will miss the ride."
"Okay quick dinner, shopping, back here to get ready," she told me, reaching to grab my arm to help her sit up. "Oh, what about the babies?"
"It's just a couple hours. They will be fine," I assured her as she hopped off the counter, walking away from me, that glorious ass bouncing as she moved, snagging her clothes, sliding into them, then assuring the dogs that we wouldn't be too late, that they didn't need to worry, that she would give them super special treats before we left.
"And Daddy will take you for a walk while I get pretty later, right?" she asked, turning back to look at me, eyes innocent even as her words landed with impact.
Sure, she was talking about dogs. But it implied something, didn't it?
"I mean... I can walk them," she said, straightening to stand, misinterpreting the look that must have been on my face.
"No, I'll walk them. They'd go stir crazy waiting for their mother to get all gussied up."
There it was.
The look that must have been on my face a second before.
Surprise, confusion, pleasure, hope, a little bit of fear, insecurity.
"I, ah, we should get going. I will go grab my shoes," she said, rushing away.
We were new, I reminded myself.
There was time for that later.
But tonight, tonight we were getting dressed up, slipping on blindfolds, and getting driven to an ultra-secret underground casino.
It was a hell of a first real date.--Her hand was a death grip on mine from the second the blindfolds came out.
We had been the first to show up at the pickup site, followed shortly by Richard who gave me a small smile, and shooting a somewhat sad look at Savea. The black eye was long gone, as were her stitches. But there was an angry red scar down her temple that no amount of makeup could cover. She'd been a good sport about it, never having been that vain to begin with, saying it gave her face some character, would make people think she was more of a badass than she was.
By the time the guards appeared - one of whom I recognized, the pretty boy with the ever-present cigarette from outside the laundromat - there was a small crowd, seven of us in all, men and women alike, different ages, different backgrounds, but each of them with an unmistakable aura of power that was undeniable.
I wondered if they pegged us as the odd-men-out, or if we managed to fit in well enough.
"See he found you," the guard said as he came to stand in front of Savea, holding her blindfold. "Those fucks," he added eyeing her scar.
"Doesn't it make me look like more of a badass?" she asked, her red lips spreading wide in one of those infectious smiles of hers.
"Yeah, babe," he agreed with a small smile as he slipped her blindfold on before moving on to me. He said nothing to me, but something in his eyes suggested he was glad I got her back, that she was no worse for the wear.
From there, we were shuffled into the stretch. I pulled Savvy down on my lap, not wanting her out of reach when I couldn't even see her.
I could have sworn I heard a chuckle when I had done it, but chose to ignore it.
The ride wasn't long, maybe fifteen minutes, but we weren't allowed to take off the blindfolds until we were led down a flight of stairs straight from outside.
So it was in a basement.
Not that knowing that narrowed down the location at all.
"Alright, blindfolds," the guard who had spoken to Savea demanded, collecting them all as we ripped them off.
Beside me, Savea was bouncing on her new ballet flats, hand squeezing mine.
"I don't even know how to gamble," she informed me in a low whisper. "I pretended to know when Peyton wanted to play once, but I just kept folding because I had no idea what was a good hand or not. Do you know how to play?"
"Not as well as anyone here, I'm sure," I told her, pulling her close as everyone started moving past as the door was opened. "But enough that we can play a few hands before they start throwing too much money around."
"I don't want to stay long anyway," she told me, starting to worry her lower lip with her teeth before remembering she had put on lipstick.
I'd seen her made up before. On occasion. For big holidays. Some mascara, eyeliner, lipstick. It was always an added punch to the gut I didn't need. But this time, there was something else.
A possessiveness, a pride.
It was maybe a bit base of me to think it, but I was over the moon to have her on my arm as we finally fell into step behind the last person in.
