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41
River
I raise one eyebrow,looking at Knox skeptically. Leave it to him to track me down on the opposite side of town when I’m supposed to be done with these assholes for good.
“A dress for what?” I demand.
“There’s a fancy as fuck gala that we’re going to this weekend.”
“I thought galas were for the rich and famous. How the hell do criminals like you guys get invites to things like that?”
Knox laughs, leaning in again like he’s sharing a secret with me. “The worst kinds of criminals are the ones who wear fancy suits and go to shit like this gala. They put me and the rest of the Kings to shame. I might be a psycho, but they’re something else altogether.”
He’s not wrong about that. It’s always the fuckers with delusions of grandeur that you have to look out for.
I chuckle a little and shrug a shoulder. “It sounds like a good time.”
Knox’s grin just grows, so clearly he’s taking that as a “yes” to his invitation. “I know just the place,” he says, crooking a finger at me to follow him.
Rolling my eyes, I sit down on the little bench to take off the shoes, then put them back in the box.
I make him wait while I put away all the other ones I was going to try, and then we leave the store together. The woman greeting people looks like she might faint at the sight of his imposing, tattooed form, and I snort with amusement at that.
We walk a little bit farther down the row of fancy shops, passing a place selling crystal glassware and a little sushi bistro. Knox turns and jogs across the street without even checking to see if there are cars coming, like a fucking maniac, and I hustle to keep up with him.
“How the fuck do you know where you’re going?” I ask him. I can’t imagine him in any of these places. He’d stand out in every one of them by being so big, and by being… well, himself.
He just grins at me over his shoulder, looking like he’s having a grand old time. “I get around,” he says. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I bite it back. I’m supposed to be done with them. This gala is one thing, a last hurrah or whatever, to celebrate that Detroit has one less piece of shit mafia asshole kicking around, but that doesn’t mean I’m falling back in with the Kings of Chaos.
The deal Gage and I struck back when this all started should stand, even if they found out more about me than I ever meant for them to.
So instead of asking, I just shrug and let him lead me into one of the most expensive boutiques in the area.
Everything is fancy as hell, and the attendant looks at us like we’re probably in the wrong place. Knox just walks past her like he owns the whole goddamn store and heads for the special occasion dresses.
“Pick something out,” he says, still grinning that feral grin at me.
I run my hands over the dresses, taking in the quality of the fabric. There are gowns in every color. Some floor length, some cocktail length or whatever. Beaded bodices, sequins, lace details. These are the kind of dresses you only get when you’re going somewhere you want to be noticed. And when you want to impress everyone who notices you.
I grin a little, because I could get on board with that.
There are a shit ton of colors, but I grab ones in black and silvery gray, and then one in blood red just because I can.
There have to be dressing rooms in this place, but before I can even start looking around for one, the attendant pops up practically at my elbow.
“Can I get you a fitting room, ma’am?” she asks, her smile pasted in place just like the curls in her bleach blonde hair.
She seems like she’d much rather deal with me than Knox, who’s still looming in the background.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “That’d be great.”
She smiles wider and hurries off to the back of the store, leaving me to follow her. I can feel Knox tracking us with his eyes but not following. Always the fucking hunter.
“If you need any help, please don’t hesitate to ask,” the attendant says, chirpy and pleasant. She unlocks the changing room and takes the dresses from me, hanging them on the hooks on the wall.
Then she shows herself out, swinging the door closed.
