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She rolls her eyes at me, and we leave the car. It’s fucking weird walking to the small metal door dressed in a deep black Armani suit while she looks like one of the kids fromStranger Things.
“I’m warning you now. You get us in and then you let me do the talking.”
“What are you even trying to do in there? The brothers don’t come here.”
“I know who I’m looking for, don’t worry,” I say as I knock on the metal door four times.
The silence I get in return doesn’t bring me doubts, but the girl next to me looking at me like I don’t know what I’m doing is pissing me off.
The door finally opens, and a man about the same size as Sam emerges. Both Rose and I must stretch our necks to look up at him. He’s so close to us, we take a step back at the same time.
He says something in Russian, looking at me. It sounds like some sort of approval. But then he looks at Rose’s outfit from head to toe and shakes his head.
“Nyet,” he says before grabbing the door to close it.
“Fuckin’ told you to get changed,” I mumble at her, anger rising in me.
Before he can close the door, Rose puts her foot in there and stops him. Great, she’s going to piss off the giant, and I’m the one who’s going to have to get into a fight tonight.
The guyliterallygrowls at her. “Don’t anger me, girl,” he says in a strong Russian accent. “I break little pussies for breakfast.”
She snorts and turns to me. “Hear that, Lik? He breaks little pussies for breakfast. We better keep you safe from him.”
My heart accelerates as she turns back to the Russian guy. “Let me in, big boy. I want to show you something. You can kick me back out if you don’t like it.”
I grab her by the elbow before she can walk in. “What the fuck are you going to show him? Your tits? I’m afraid to tell you your two mosquito bites aren’t gonna get us anything but killed.”
She shrugs me off and disappears inside, leaving me with a mouth hanging low. What the hell is she showing him? If she dies, Sam is going to kill me. But she comes back out five seconds later and waves at me.
“Come in, my little pussy. We’re all good.”
“I’ll have you know pussies are probably the strongest thing in the world. Don’t undermine what gave birth to the entire population,” I tell her casually as we walk through a thin, red corridor. “They’re much stronger than balls, and saying someone is a pussy to say they’re weak is a stupid expression.”
“Yeah, you’d know a lot about balls, considering the amount you must have licked in your life.” She stops and turns to me. “You don’t have to defend pussies to me, Lik. Trust me, you won’t meet anyone who loves them more than I do. Shall we?”
She points at a black door in front of us.Vue Clubis written in neon red on it.
“You’re about to see girls that actually look sexy in there. Do your best to fit in,” I huff at her.
“You’re so beautiful, Lik,” she smiles.
I raise an eyebrow, knowing there’s something else coming. She wants the last word. It’s like a need in her.
“You’re Algerian, right? It shows in your beautiful traits.” I stay silent, and the other shoe drops. “How often do they make you feel like you fit in in these kinds of clubs?”
I purse my lips. Hadn’t reasonably thought of that. It’s a mission in itself to walk around with my kind of face in our country. I have lived alongside racism my whole life, and she knows she’s right. White people have rarely made me feel like I belong.
I still find something to answer because there’s no way I’m going to let her have the last word.
“First of all, while my mom is Algerian, my dad was Moroccan, so you can’t say I’m just Algerian.”
“A little bird told me your dad was from Oujda. It’s so close to Algeria he could probably wave at your mom from his window.”
I have to pinch my lips to avoid laughing at how accurate this is. Nevertheless like my mom would say, my dad is probably giving us middle fingers hearing how we’re comparing his city to Algeria. “Leave my dad alone,miskin,” I say to refer to my poor dad. “If he could hear you now. How do you even know so much about me?” I put a hand on my chest and cock my head to the right. “Rose White…are you a fan of me?”
“Emma likes to talk about her family,” she answers simply. “And I have ways to make her talk.”
I stop moving, my hand on the handle. “Do you still sleep with my stepsister, princess?”
