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“I’m glad you think so.”
I give her knuckles a kiss and take my hand back. I flip the open plaque around and hold Lucy’s gaze as I lock the bolt. The metallic clang is deliciously loud, making her, and the clerk, jump in their skin.
“Looks, uh, expensive.”
I can tell Lucy wants to ask what we’re doing, but she doesn’t, trusting me instead. I reward her by cupping her face and kissing her softly.
“It is.”
With a gentle cheek pat, I leave her standing in the doorway and stalk through the space toward the counter.
“Good evening, Angela.” I lean forward a bit, head tilted, but I can’t tell if there’s a customer in the changing station or not. “Are you busy?”
“M-Mr. Ghost.” The clerk drops the shirt she had been clinging to, scrambling to catch it before it hits the ground. Her gaze flits to Lucy, something resembling concern crossing her features. “No, just a, just one lady.”
I’m sure Lucy’s bruises make this appear far worse than it is, but these employees know better than to question.
“Mm.” I step next to Angela and pluck the shirt out of her shaking hands. “Take her and leave, please.”
“Of course, but…” Fear sparks in her eyes as she glances at Lucy again.
“No need to worry. She’s my—”
Panic grabs my throat like a million hands. My what? Sub, of course, but she isn’t just that.Girlfriendseems utterly ridiculous, and far too small a word for this obsession of mine. Inspiration spurs my tongue into action.
“Mine. She’s mine, and she’s safe.” I flick a hundred in front of Angela’s face between my two fingers. “It’s her birthday, and we need the store.”
“Oh.” Her face softens a bit, and she gently takes the money, stepping backward a few paces. “There’s a one-shoulder Valentino, size 10, on rack four. I think it would fit her well.”
“Thanks.” I smirk. “I’m familiar with her size, though. I’ll lock up. And you can send me the bill.” I shoo her with a hand flick, and she curls around a corner.
I barely hear her speaking to the customer. I keep my gaze locked on Lucy, who stands with her hands clasped in front of her, glancing at everything like it’s going to bite her.
Seconds pass in silence until finally Angela heads toward the back door with another lady, hopping on one foot to get her shoe on.
“What sort of emergency? A fire or something?”
“Ma’am, just come on, please.” Angela’s whisper is panicked as she tugs on her coat. “I’m not going to lose a knee cap because you’re being slow.”
Lucy catches my gaze, mouth falling open a little. The back door closes with a loud crack, leaving the two of us alone, and I chuckle, slowly placing the shirt back on the display rack. “That’s more Mayhem’s specialty.”
“Oh.” She swallows and smiles, her eyes reflecting sparkles from the overhead track lighting. “Seems like something he’d do, honestly. So, they know you here, clearly.”
She steps further into the room, still tentative.
“They do. We’ve used this place on occasion to…”
I frown, not sure how much I want to reveal. It wouldn’t benefit her to know about our agreement with the owner. Or how many times we’ve laundered funds through here, or how many unruly Vie De Mort castouts spent time here under Mayhem’s fist.
“Doesn’t matter. This is about you, Firefly.”
I hold my hand out, and her shoulders relax slightly as she clears the space at a clipped pace, finally lacing her fingers with mine again.
“I don’t even know where to begin. It’s all way too good for me.”
My relief at her proximity is wiped away in an instant.
“Lucy,” I growl, pulling her against my body. “That’s dangerously close to calling yourself stupid, and you know that’s not allowed. You,” I hold her gaze, “are too good for everything in here. Do you understand?”
