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Mitch hung up before Vanessa’s fears reached her across their impossible distance.Now’s not the time to panic.Panicking was a surefire way to get hurt. Mitch learned that in the Marines, and she thought of it now as she hopped down to the floor and stared at her feminine reflection.
“They see a woman they can order around because they think she’s a toy.” Mitch dabbed her makeup with a tissue. “Idiots don’t realize I’m a fucking jarhead. Give me a gun and point.”
Nicknames like that kept her thoughts in check. Nicknames reminded Mitch that she could truly be any persona she put her mind to.
“Sempre fi.”
She jerked the powder room door open and encountered another woman waiting.
“What?” Helena asked, arms crossed upon her chest. “Someone’s waiting for you.”
Mitch grabbed her by the arm and lugged Helena into the powder room, slamming the door shut again.
“What the hell?” Helena pushed her hair out of her face. Before, the powder room hadn’t felt that claustrophobic. Suddenly, Mitch realized that it was not meant for more than one person washing their hands or reapplying their makeup. Two people? They better be doing the deed because there wasnopersonal space left between them.
“How old are you?” Mitch asked.
Helena was taken aback, but not offended. “Why? I’m old enough to consent if that’s what you’re gaming at.”
“Not really. It’s obvious you’re over eighteen. Not that it matters here.”
“Yeah, well… definitely saw someone I swear was a middle schooler out there…”
“Which is why you shouldn’t be involved with these people. I’ve seen fucked up rich assholes, and these are taking the cake and tossing it overboard.”
“So? What the hell is it to you? I’m old enough to decide what I want to do with my body. You think I’m not mature enough to handle it?”
You saying shit like that? Absolutely not mature enough.Mitch was used to the twenty-one-year-olds who brought their brand-new IDs into the clubs and made their future selves cry, but Helena was a different breed of bullshit.She’s going to get irreparably hurt by these people.Mitch knew it like she knew it was bad news going into Christopher’s room, but unlike Helena, she was experienced in Grade-A bullshit. Mitch didn’t have an official kill count in the Marines, but it was possible. There were situations where nobody knew who dealt the killing shot to a target, and that included Mitch, who fired in self-defense more than once.
“Bet you’re tired of having thirty-year-olds like me tell you this is dangerous. Piss off the wrong person, and you can kiss your sanity goodbye.”
“Who said I had any to begin with?”
You’ve got sanity, just no sense.That’s what these teenagers didn’t understand, and there was nothing Mitch could do about it.
“When you get off this boat, disentangle yourself from that monster and go back to Tacoma. Or wherever you’re from.”
Helena was pale in the light of the powder room. “How did you…”
“Was I close enough? It’s obvious. You’re the exact kind of kid these people prey on. I don’t know how you got wrapped up in this, but you’re not ready for it. The whole reason I fell into it is because I fucked up in my early twenties. I know how to protect myself, though.” If she said that enough times, would it be true? “You’re as exposed as a drunken grunt in the desert. Jesus.” Mitch had half a mind to rip off her wig. “You remind me of myself, a different basket of PTSD, aren’t you?”
“What are youtalkingabout?”
Mitch opened the door again. Candace came around the corner of the hallway. “Take care of yourself. Bitches like me harass you because we get sick of seeing this shit.”
She should take her own words to heart because Candace silently glared at her until Mitch sauntered down the hallway toward Christopher’s room.
Here she went.
Chapter 16
Themanwasgluedto his phone when Mitch entered, her heels loud enough to wake the dead but not enough to pull Christopher’s eyes away from the endless scroll of his news feed.
“I was told you wanted to see me.”
He barely glanced at her. “Sure.” His vision remained locked on a certain business-related headline as he forced his phone down to the end table beside him. “Michelle, is it?”
“Technically.” Mitch placed her hands on her hips and kept her thighs apart. “Although you can call me any name you want.”
