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“I told him that I had my last paycheck to pick up at the diner, and I was going out to dinner with friends who would get me home. He didn’t seem to see anything wrong with that.”
A way of shame washed over Mykie. What was she thinking? She knew he was on crutches, and that he couldn’t drive himself. Why didn’t she offer to pick him up?
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to get you. I’m glad you made it, though, and that you got my message about the dress code,” Mykie said. Caspar was dressed in a white dress shirt and black slacks that she would have imagined the wait-staff to be wearing, not someone who would be entering with her under the alias of the Snake King.
“It’s okay. I was just happy to be invited. You look beautiful, by the way,” Caspar said, pushing his hair out of his face as a particularly big gust of wind went through.
“Thank you,” she said, brushing her hair aside as well. She couldn’t help but to think about what he would say when he realized it would be covered with blood soon.
“We should probably go inside,” Dexter mentioned.
Mykie nodded to him before she looked at Caspar. “Whatever you do, make sure to stay out of my way when and if things get messy. This is not a pleasure call, but I wanted to make sure you see what it means to be around me in the future.” She pointed around her in a circle. “This could be something I have to do at any time of the day.”
Caspar looked at the club behind them before meeting Mykie’s eye again. “I think I’m ready.”
Mykie stepped away from Caspar’s side and went to stand with Dexter. “I hope that is true. Let’s go, though.”
Mykie approached the man that was acting as the bouncer. He had blonde hair that reminded her of Renly. He was dressed similar to Dexter with a black button-up shirt with a black jacket and black dress pants. The difference was that somehow the look fit him more. Like this was something he wore when he came out of the womb, and he’s never gone a day without it.
She showed him her ID, only to keep up the appearance of a regular club goer. “The three of us are here under Travis Turner.”
He accepted her ID and gave her a slow once-over before looking over her at the two men behind her. His eyes were an icy blue that made her wonder how eyes could look so light, but so critical of the situation at the same time. She prayed to whoever was looking down to her that Caspar looked like he meant to be at a club like this right now. Otherwise, everything would fall apart.
After what felt like forever, the man nodded and stepped out of her way to get inside. Before she could get past him, she heard him speak.
“Have a good time, Miss.”
His voice almost made her stumble. It was sultry smooth in a way she only heard in voice actors. Had she heard him speak before? He sounded familiar. She wouldn’t mind hearing it again just to make sure she wasn’t making things up though…
She shook her head and kept walking. She wasn’t here for him.
She continued through the club until she found the VIP section. She checked her phone, knowing that Chance would have sent her a picture of her target, remembering the time that she researched and killed the wrong person who had the same name as her target. It wasn’t long before she found the table that was reserved for “Travis Turner”, and they were able to sit down.
“What do we do now?” Caspar asked, looking around at the club. She remembered that it was probably his first time inside La Noir because of its exclusivity. The entire place was modeled around the color theme, with white table clothes and chairs, and the spiraling black and white walls that stood out on the left and right of their table. The ceiling was completely black except for the embedded lights that shinned over each table of the VIP section.
Mykie checked her phone screen one more time before her attention was drawn to a table in the middle of the VIP section. There were five men sitting there, sitting around in a circle. There in the middle of the group, was her target. He was early. Was that a mistake on the informant’s part, or was Porter suspicious?
“You wait here,” she said, standing up. She looked at her friend. “Dex, follow me?”
He nodded.
She put on a sweet smile as she approached his table. Dexter had kept his distance and she lost him as he went another direction than her when she navigated the tables. When she made it to the table, the five men at it had ceased their laughter and wine glass raise to whatever they might have been celebrated and they all turned to look at her. If she was not experienced in this sort of dealing, she might have been nervous having so many men looking at her in Jezebeth’s dress.
“Curt Porter, right?” she asked, folding her hands behind her back to appear less threatening. She had practiced interactions like these a thousand times with Dexter and Chance that it was like she could assume an entirely different persona. Someone with Jezebeth’s beauty confidence and Mykie’s inexperience with people on a normal basis.
She could see the men appreciating the view of her, one of them going so far as to whistle lowly. Curt Porter knocked his arm into his buddies on either side of him, making the trio laugh as he leaned forward in his seat.
“Yes, M’am. May I ask why a beautiful girl like yourself is in a club like this?” Porter asked, his eyebrow raised. He lifted his cigar to his lips once before he took it out and blew smoke in her direction. She wanted to cringe back away from the smoke, but she kept steady with a smile on her face.
She leaned forward on her toes in his direction. “I’m here to collect the money you owe the Snake King.”
He rose up out of his seat before she even realized it. “Listen here—”
She quickly leaned back, ready to grab her knife out of her boot, but Dexter beat her to it.
“I would sit down slowly, if I was you,” he said, a fist in Porter’s hair with knife to his neck.
His friends started to move out of their seats and Mykie was unsure if it was because they were ready to defend their friend, or they were going to run.
