Page 11 of Pretty Lies

THREE

“YOU’RE IN ONE piece,” J said, greeting Della into his favorite booth inside the mid-town club he liked to frequent on nearly every damn night of the week. He gave her a one-armed hug, and used the same hold to pull her down to sit whether she wanted to or not. Chuckles passed down the table from her brother’s friends. Or rather, those that he cared to have around when she was also nearby. All it took was a flip of his middle finger and the guys scattered. J—whose real name was Joel Peter, but fuck anyone who dared to call him that but for their mother—still didn’t let his sister go from his grip. “Must mean the Tramen job went well today, huh?”

Della elbowed her brother hard in his kidney, earning a grunt from him but also her release from his grip. It didn’t matter that they were twenty-three and twenty-four years old—not when the two of them were together and in a mood. They went back to being kids again who just loved to have fun with one another.

“If you’re gonna be a brute, keep your hands to yourself, shithead.”

“Bitch,” he muttered as he picked up a glass from the table.

Whiskey, she thought.

He only drank whiskey.

“You fucked up my hair,” she countered, flipping a loose strand of hair over her shoulder at the same time. It was a lie—her hair was fine. It did let her scan the floor of the club for her friend that should have already been there. “And the job did go well. Daddy called right before I went in, though.”

Beside her, J stilled. “Oh?”

“He asked if you were going to be there. Well, if I was waiting for you. So, I kind of had to—”

“Don’t lie to Dad, Della. I’m not going to out what you’ve been doing most of the time with work, and all, but … that’s only because you should tell him you’re not always following his rules.”

Right.

Yeah.

She would get right on that.

“Where’s Jennika?”

Tonight had been her idea, after all.

Just like the weekend before …

Although, that hadn’t ended badly.

For her, anyway.

J picked up his phone, but his squint as he checked the screen told her that he wasn’t very happy about it. “On her way, she says. The fuck you have to give her my phone number for, anyway? It’s not like she works with me.”

No, but her friend had a secret crush—that wasn’t really so secret anymore—on Della’s older brother that was nearly as old as they were, considering they’d been friends for about as long, too. Well, since their private high school days, anyway. With men in their life that just happened to be connected to the darker side of the world, the two were bound to come together at one point or another. Anyway, she was trying to help her friend out with J.

It wasn’t working.

She did what she could.

“Indulge her,” Della said, “even once.”

“Adella—”

“Only Ma and Dad can call me that, Joel.”

Her brother scowled.

Della winked right back.

“I’m not fucking Jennika,” her brother said simply. “Because that girl is loyal to no man. And that’s fine, if that’s what a guy wants or whatever. I don’t share, you know?”

Well …