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Why I swing my fingers over the sensor again, I haven’t the faintest clue.
“Her door’s always open,” it sings in a low gravelly voice.
At least it’s sensitive,I think as I glance at the box to see if it speaks in other languages. Sure enough, thirteen languages, and a few different dialects. Vagina doorbell sold separately.
Huh.Mom didn’t have this kind of shit when I was here.
The arrow on the cardboard points to the side with the word “voucher” written in cursive. Flipping the box on its side, I take a gander at the discounted object in question—Stretched-open labias and a rather enlarged nub.
Well… I scratch the back of my head and toss the box on one of the empty tables.I’ve seen a lot of things, but damn. That’s dirty.
On my way toward the bathroom, I take another Dick Spy and place it on the opposite side of the small window. Test it and activate it in a different language. In the apartment, I set one near the floor-length windows.
English, front door.
Bathroom, Spanish.
French, upstairs.
It’ll do. I say as I head to the register and open it. Mom used to keep the insurance papers in the fake drawer, so I remove the mostly empty cash bin and the drawer it sits on. I find the insurance papers, the house deed, and a few other things in there. After folding up the white envelope, I tuck it into my jean pocket and replace the cash box.
I search for the credit card machine and find it tucked behind a stack of unpaid bills.
“Oh, that’s right, baby.” All of a sudden I hear a woman’s voice coming from the talking dick, not from the one I set up near the door, though. The one on display.
What the hell?
It’s dusty but hooked up to the charger, so I shut the machine down, open the back side and pull out the battery. It’s the same as my old-school cell, purposely for emergency situations. I switch out the batteries, power up my phone, and place the credit card reader back on the shelf.
“Ring my bell!” the dick says.
There’s nothing, so I use the light from the phone and find the culprit. My mom and Neve didn’t have an emergency line.
“I see you’ve found the panic button,” Snow says from the hallway, hands crossed over her voluptuous chest.
No. Just no.
“We had to cut costs, so I thought this would be enough of a distraction. Buy a few minutes if necessary.”
“I’m not really sure what to say to all of that.” Neve points to the GinaBell’s counterpart. “I broke his sensor.”
Clever, but still stupid.I shake my head as I program the number into the phone. The other number I had memorized, but it won’t do me much good now. Hell, I don’t think it did me much good—period. If it had, I wouldn’t have gotten shot.
One way or the other, it won’t matter. If I’m right, Snow just took out the youngest cousin—quality manager and addict. The same kid who shared the same hospital room as my cousin, who used to play with Rosinha on the streets while the hookers watched them.
The runt of the family, loved for his uselessness, but probably the nicest one too. The only one who still held a tiny bit of respect for my family. The slither of hope still left for us and for me figuring out what the hell happened to my cousin.
“What are you doing over there, anyway?”
If I tell her the truth, she’ll get suspicious. “Boo-bieTrapping.”
She snorts at my corny joke.
“I figure it will give us a heads up if anyone breaks in.”
“Smart.” Her eyes veer toward the light I had shut. “Want me to turn them all off?”
I don’t think it matters. “Sure.”
