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Sighing, I pick up my phone and dial someone I really didn’t want to involve. It only rings twice before I hear a gravelly voice answer me.
“Hey, friend. What’s up?”
“I need your help,” I tell him. “I need you to track someone down for me. Two someone’s, actually.”
“A garbage job?”
“No,” I reply with a grimace. “Just locate and provide me contact. As soon as fucking possible.”
“Anything else?”
“They might be in Mexico, but I don’t know where.”
“We’ll be in touch.”
The phone clicks off and I frown at it. I hate enlisting these guys, especially fucking Riot. Who the fuck calls themselves Riot, anyway?
Despite being a deplorable fucking human being that I have zero wish to associate with, I’ve never seen him turn up empty when asked to find a person. Plus, he’s efficient and I can trust him to always keep his mouth shut. And I need to talk to fucking Kill and find out what really happened at Eternity.
My eyes fall to the paper once more, to the number at the bottom. I’ve done well enough for myself here. I’m not fucking rich, but I do alright. Having money has never really appealed to me, beyond wanting to be able to do my thing and be left the fuck alone.
Once the Iron Elite figure out money won’t sway me, what the fuck they’d do then, though?
Kinsey
I Think I’m Okay
After another five days,I have an empty savings jar and fridge to go along with no job. Sitting in my kitchen at the shitty card table, I scroll through my phone for the millionth time, just praying for something, anything else. The plain oatmeal in front of me is like cardboard mush, but I swallow it anyway, putting it in my mouth on autopilot.
I’m about to put my phone down when it rings, and I smile when I see who’s calling me.
“Hey, girl,” I greet in answer.
“Kin, what the fuck, woman! Where have you been all my life?”
I laugh as I drop the half-eaten food into the sink, making my way over to the thread barren couch and plopping down.
“Trying to get a real job unlike some deadbeats I know,” I tease my best friend, Sarah.
“Deadbeat? Excuse me, woman. I’ll have you know that online sex work is very respectable.”
I roll my eyes. “Uh, huh.”
“Jealous you aren’t making this kinda money off your tiny white ass?” she teases back, and I smirk.
“Yeah, yeah, well, if I don’t get a job soon, my white ass might have no choice.”
Despite the joking tone, Sarah seems to immediately pick up the note of bitterness.
“That bad, eh?”
“Worse,” I reply miserably. “I haven’t found shit. The closest thing to a job offer I’ve gotten is from a homeless guy I make sandwiches for, and that was for a darn strip club.”
“I mean, you did dance for all those years…”
“Can you just imagine what my mom would say? Besides, ballet is hardly the same as stripping.”
“Fuck her,” Sarah replies succinctly. “You’re hot, young, and you’ve got experience with dancing. Why not make a pile of cash for a bit while you look for something less nude-y?”
