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He looked down at his lap for a time, and the car was quiet. She almost thought he wasn’t going to answer before they dropped him off at Renly’s. However, ten minutes from his house, she heard Caspar speak.
“I’ve always been the person that’s had to work for everything they have. A roof over their head, food, clothes. I haven’t had the best home life, and I’ve never had anyone in my life do what you’ve done for me. If sticking with you really means the protection that you were talking about, then I want it more than anything.” He looked at her through the mirror, and she couldn’t look away. “I’m at the lowest point of my life, and my friends barely notice. I know we are still strangers, but a stranger that sticks up for me when I’m in danger and might even put me in danger is better than friends that don’t care enough to even make sure I make it home.”
She closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure what to say. He really was like a stray dog that followed her home after offering him a scrap of attention. How was she supposed to turn him away? How could she say “no” when he said it like that? How couldn’t his friends see his pain?
She was starting to understand, she thought. It was a trauma response to be attracted to her side, then. He thought he owed her something, which meant that he was willing to offer anything if it meant paying her back. How was she supposed to handle that situation? She could feel her cheeks heating slightly as she remembered the last time that they were in a car that he offered her sex in exchange for the protection he obviously craved.
Maybe Mykie-fever really was a thing.
“Have you talked to your friends about it?” Dexter surprised her when he spoke up.
“I don’t want to interrupt their lives. Even staying there takes a lot for me because it admits that I need help for a while,” he admitted.
The fact that he hid his feelings from them made her feel slightly better that she is falling for a least one of them. It meant that they weren’t total jerks and inconsiderate.
“You’ll have to tell them eventually,” Mykie murmured, opening her eyes. “They already know you lost your job, right?”
He nodded, but he looked away. “I’ll figure it out, I promise.”
Dexter, almost like reading her mind, changed the topic. “I discussed the money with the remaining men that were at the table, and it seemed that none of them knew about his loan. I believe, as you might have suspected, who you were sent after was not the main target but someone else. I believe your message, whatever it was supposed to be, will make it back to whoever it was meant to after the reaction from those men.”
“Wait, so you were sent to kill a man over nothing?” Caspar questioned.
“It wasn’t for no reason. The message was the most important thing. I won’t know until I talk to the Snake King what it was meant to do, however. I will need to ask him on Tuesday in our meeting.”
Caspar was quiet, like he was trying to put the pieces together that he was missing. She knew from experience years ago that it would be impossible to understand the culture of it for a little while. Things started to settle in the car, just in time to let Caspar out of the car. When they pulled up at the house, it was quiet, and all the lights were off except for one. If she had to guess, it was Blaine’s window, the one guy she hadn’t met. If it wasn’t for his blinds, she suspected that she could have seen him if he was watching them drive up.
She waited until he got out of the car and approached her window before she spoke to him.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday, then?” Mykie said, suddenly feeling awkward. “Make sure to rest your leg in the meantime, okay?”
He nodded. “I’ll try.”
With a quick wave goodbye, they were on the road again, just Dexter and her. While she wouldn’t have minded talking about the mission in more details with Caspar in the car, it was better to not have to explain everything.
“Was the man I stabbed okay?”
Dexter chuckled. “Only you would ask if your victim was okay. He seemed to have some brain cells enough to wrap his hand in the towel that was around the silverware. He should be fine, but the scar will be more of a reminder to either spread the word if he knows what’s good for him, or to keep his mouth shut about what he saw.”
“It’s just wracking my brain, though. Why would Chance send me just to send a message? It doesn’t make sense,” Mykie said.
“He only makes sense to you, Mykie. You’re the only one that gets an explanation, too. I’m sure it was for a reason that it had to be you.”
“Maybe,” she said, but her mind was wandering to what that reason could be.
Why did the Valkyrie have to collect a debt, one she couldn’t even collect because it was gone?
Accepting Trust
Tuesday came faster than Mykie was expecting. She almost canceled her date—if she could call it that—with Caspar if not for the fact that Chance was going to be there and already asked her to come to his office.
Jezebeth nearly tempted the ashy-haired girl to borrow something from her closet for the night, but she refrained after a swift glance at the short pieces of clothing. She was surprised she was offered another piece of clothing after Mykie had to return the dress she wore with blood on it. Instead, she grabbed a leather skirt and a red top that laced-up in the back that she had to ask Jezebeth for help with. It looked both professional for a dancer and represented the Cantil's aesthetic.
She threw her bag over her shoulder before heading out the door with Jezebeth. Jezebeth had always been loud and proud about the Cantil, and had donned her black jacket with the yellow and green Cantil symbol on the back for the night.
They were taking Mykie's car to Pearl's, but Jezebeth offered to drive, which meant the ride would be cut in half and Mykie's blood pressure would go through the roof.
"Ready for tonight?" Jezebeth asked, popping her gum in her mouth and spinning the keys on her finger.
