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The three turn back to the courts, picking up their belongings before heading back to Captain’s truck – seems they have three identical Denali’s. They slide in, but Royce pauses, glancing my way briefly before he too climbs inside.
And then it’s just me. Like always.
But that’s how I like it.
Being by myself means I don’t have to worry about other people, don’t have to stop and think about how what I do will affect anyone else. It makes things a helluva lot easier.
Those guys are lucky I wanted my stuff back or their lovely leader would have earned himself a shiny new set of bracelets.
Now they probably think I was trying to help them out, ‘fall in line’ as they say, but that’s not why I did it.
I did it for me.
I mean, why else would I?“What do we do about the girl?” Cap questions and I grit my teeth, moving the icepack from one knee to the next.
“Her name’s Raven,” Royce tosses over his shoulder.
“I know her fucking name. And I don’t know yet,” I answer and Captain nods, falling beside me on the old sofa.
“There’s something about her. She’s not like the others.” Royce pulls up a chair, flipping it around to sit in front of us. “She’s—”
“Fine,” Captain cuts him, making him laugh.
“Damn fine and feisty and—”
“A problem.” I look between the two. “She’s a fucking problem.”
Royce glances off while Captain licks his lips. “What kind of problem, brother?”
“The kind you need to stay away from.” I glare.
They fight it real hard, then both start laughing like dicks.
I pop up, tossing my icepack at Royce who tosses it at Captain, then head for my room, done with this fucking day.
The assholes laugh harder.
But Royce is right and I think Captain knew what he was getting at before they started fucking with me.
Other than the obvious banging body, Raven’s got that ‘fuck you and your world’ attitude - something we’re not used to. It only adds to her appeal.
She’s sexy, likes to argue, and breaks the mold we’ve set.
But it’s more than that. There’s something about her that screams at something deep inside me, only I have no idea what. She’s almost a mystery, one I need to unravel ... with my teeth.
Like I said, she’s trouble.
Problem is, I like the taste of trouble.“Get up, let’s go.”
I lift my eyes to the girl in front of me. I forget her damn name again but don’t bother asking. “And where is it you think I’ll be going?”
“Maybell goes to bingo and has a few the first Saturday of the month, you know, after payday. She won’t check beds tonight.”
“So lemme guess ... you’re going out?”
She sneers. “We are going out. No way are we letting you stay here to snitch us out. Let’s go.”
I slowly stand, dusting off the back of my sweats. “First of all, don’t imply I’m a snitch – if it doesn’t affect me, I don’t give a shit. And second, I do what the fuck I want, not what I’m told.”
The girl takes a half a step toward me but pauses when Nira calls out behind her.
“Back off, Victoria.”
Oh right, that was her name.
Nira walks over. “Just come to the party, Rae. You don’t have a damn thing better to do.”
“True, but now I wanna stay to spite Victoria, here.”
When Victoria’s eyes narrow farther, my mouth tips up in a grin.
“You’re gonna need someone to buy from when your stash runs out, right?”
My eyes cut back to Nira and she smirks. Little does she know, Bass could help me out with that. Not directly, but still.
“Come on, girl. There’ll be plenty of wannabe dealers there happy to skimp you on a sack. Weed’s not as good here as you’re probably used to, but it’ll serve its purpose.”
I laugh lightly, knowing she’s right about that. The Valley grows the good shit.
I look to Victoria. “Guess you’ll be getting your way tonight.”
Her eyes rake over my outfit and her pointy nose scrunches. “Maybe you should change.”
“Maybe you should fuck off.”
With a huff, she stomps toward the curb and looks down the street.
I turn back to Nira.
“Victoria’s boyfriend is driving us tonight, so don’t start shit by flirting with him, we don’t need added problems and he won’t cheat on her.”
Suspicion has me frowning.
When Nira glances off, I let out a humorless laugh. “You read my file.”
She considers lying, but stands taller instead. “We read all the new girls’ files. We deserve to know about people we’re forced to live with.”
“So you gathered I’m a whore?”
“You’re the daughter of one,” she throws out unapologetically. “I know firsthand our parents’ problems are quick to become ours.”
I don’t say anything because there’s no point. Nothing I say would matter.
If she lived half the life I did, the only thing we can trust is what we see with our own eyes.
