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I lean against the doorframe, my arms coming to my chest. “Who’s your mom?”

Maya blushes, and I almost feel bad for asking. “Well…” Her hand comes up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “It’s Delila, actually.” She rolls her eyes.

I lean back, shocked. “Your mom is Delila?”

“Yup!” Her eyes slant. “Don’t judge me for that either. My old man was much cooler.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “I’m not judging you at all.”

“Good!” She smirks, nudging her head back downstairs. “Let’s have one big party before you bring in your new recruits. I always hate when newbies come in.”

“Jeez.” I shove her playfully. “Thanks.”

She laughs. “Girl, I’m not even sorry.” Of course she isn’t.

Hours pass as I settle into my room, hanging my clothes on their hangers. I pull out my phone and dial Richard, feeling bad on how I left him on our last call. I need to tell him that I won’t be able to make it back when I wanted, and then I need to find something to wear tonight.

Because I need to blow off some steam.

Some ancient, fucked-up, and mentally unstable steam.

After hanging up with Richard, I’m ass deep in my closet with Maya, Rose, Val and Mischa sitting on the bed.

“Just wear a bikini,” Val says, smirking from behind her glass. She has already started drinking. Surprise, surprise.

“I’m not wearing a bikini.”

Val is someone I have come to tolerate, but not necessarily like. I feel like I want to swap stories with them all. Who they are? Why are they here? Who are they damn well related to?

My fingers brush over a short black slinky outfit. “What are the chances of us maybe hitting a club later?”

They all pause before chuckling. “I mean, we can,” Maya purrs. “We just never really have.”

“What?” I scold, standing and grabbing some shoes that will match this scandalous little getup. “You’re in The Big Easy and you’re telling me you guys have never hit Bourbon Street?”

Val quirks an eyebrow. “Yes, we have, but not to go out as just the girls. Usually The Brothers are with us, if you know what I mean.” She smirks, looking to the side.

My hands drop to the side of me and I step closer to her, my head tilting. “Are we going to always have this problem between us, Val? Because we’ve both danced on King’s dick?”

Val freezes, her eyes slanting as they come to me. She seems to battle with her thoughts inside before finally exhaling, bringing her glass back to her lips. “No. You’re right.” She stands, swiping her hands on her short little skirt. “Truce?”

I examine her hand. “What were you doing in his room that day anyway?”

She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow again. “Oh, so you care?”

Of course I do. “No,” I answer smoothly. “I want to know.”

Val exhales. “I went to try to talk to him to see why he wasn’t sleeping with me anymore. Nothing happened. I’m sorry for allowing you to think it did.”

I sigh, watching as her head bows slightly between her shoulders. “I believe you.”

Her hand slips in mine. “You have my word, but Perse, not again.”

“Good! I want him to suffer.”

I think it’s the first time I’ve ever known her to look serious. “The King never suffers.”

I humph, hanging the dress in front of her. “Louis Vuitton anyone?”

Val smirks. “She’s catching on.”

An hour later, we’re all primed to the nines. I’m wearing an LV black dress that clings tight and hangs to my upper thighs. It’s see-through at my midriff and my ass, so I’m wearing a G-string and a black lace bra. Grey Goose, Hendricks, and old whiskey line the tables outside the RV, with everyone surrounding them. No fire pit. No relaxed clothes. This party is tasteful, upper class, and I get the feeling this is the theme for the girls. “All I Ever Wanted” by Mase is playing as I dance down the steps, my red-bottomed heels clinking against the metal.

“Yaaaaassss!’ Rose slurs, raising her bottle to the air at my entrance. I sing the chorus fluently to Rose, censoring the N-bomb when Rose pauses, eyebrow cocked, to see if I’ll say it.

I drop down low, raising my bottle in the air, dancing in circles. Val and Mischa erupt in laughter, with Rose taking my bottle off me, bringing it to her lips.

“Girl, gimme this.”

I laugh, dancing and spinning around to face Delila, who raises her champagne glass to me. My laughing simmers as I make my way to her. I want to talk to her.

“Hey, Justice.” I smile at Justice who is standing beside her, his arm hooked protectively around her waist.

“Hey, Little Bird. How you doin’?”

“Better now.” I wink, before looking back at Delila.

Justice bows, excusing himself and leaving Delila and me to each other as he gets lost in the pool of bodies. The sun is only just setting, leaving a warm hue in the sky.

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