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Jessa and I have been best friends since we were kids. Her father works for mine. We met at a family gathering where we bonded instantly. It’s great to have someone close to me who understands this world. Truthfully, I don’t think I could be friends with someone outside of the mafia. Not right now, at least. I’d have to lie too much, and what sort of friendship would that be? Nothing like what I have with Jessa, who knows almost everything about me, including my mission for tonight. We planned it carefully and found a party where the risk of someone recognizing me would be low.
The party is at a house of a friend of this guy Jessa is dating. He’s someone who is in no way, shape, or form connected to the mafia. He went to a public school on the west side of the city, which is considered lower class to most people. I think that’s his appeal to Jessa—someone her parents would never approve of. I always found it so stupid that a mafia member could think poor people are beneath them. You know, because being a murderer makes you such a great person.
“So, what’s the plan?” Jessa whispers to me from the back seat of the car.
Ellis is driving us toward the party, but I’m not about to have him drop us off there. No, I have a plan that I came up with quickly after my mom informed me Ellis would be driving me around tonight.
“I’m having him drop us off at a theater that’s about half a mile from the party,” I whisper to Jessa. “I figure we can go into the theater then exit out the side doors and walk the rest of the way to the house.”
She arches her brows. “Does the theater have a side door?”
I nod, glancing at Ellis to ensure he’s not listening. “Yep, I called and asked already.”
Her brows furrow. “And they didn’t think that was weird?”
“Oh, no, they did,” I assure her. We’re nearing the theater, so I slip on my leather jacket. “But they still answered me.”
“Sneaky,” she tells me with a grin. “I like this side of you, bestie.”
“Me, too.” I smile wickedly. “Maybe I can take this part of me with me when I …” I trail off as thoughts of the fate ceremony sear into my mind.
She frowns, noticing my plummeting mood. “Where’s your head at?”
I shake my head, not wanting to talk about it. “I was just thinking about some stuff.”
She smashes her lips together, probably wanting to say more, but she knows me well enough not to press.
We remain silent for the rest of the drive. I spend time scrolling through my social media accounts while Jessa takes selfies.
About ten minutes later, Ellis pulls up to the glowing theater with neon lights. He parks up near the front doors where people are loitering and eyes the two-story building warily.
Several light bulbs are burned out of the signs, the exterior is covered in grime, and the people hanging out in front look sketchy, to say the least. But looks can be deceiving. Take when my father has one of his “meetings.” Everyone shows up in pressed suits and designer dresses, appearing all nice and put together, but it’s a façade. Everything about this world is. So, maybe this building isn’t as bad as it looks. The same goes for the people standing outside.
“Are you sure you want to go to this theater?” Ellis questions as he rotates around and looks at me. “The theater on the north side is much nicer.”
“This theater is showing an old movie that I really want to see,” I inform him as I scoot toward the door. “It’s a long movie, like three hours. Are you sure you want to park out here for that long? You can always leave for a bit then come back and pick me up?” It’s a silly hope to believe he will, but I have to try.
He gives me areallylook. “You know I can’t do that, Allura.”
I resist a sigh. “Yeah, I know.”
If I could’ve gotten him to leave, Jessa and I could’ve skipped going inside. But whatever, I guess Plan B is officially in play.
Sucking in a breath, I get out of the car, my heels hitting the damp asphalt from the melting snow. Jessa follows, takes one look around, and wraps her arms around herself.
We’re way overdressed for going to a theater, with Jessa in her red, fitted dress and heels, and me in my short, black velvet skirt and matching off-the-shoulder top that shows off a sliver of an inch of my belly. I have on heeled boots that lace up to my thighs, making me stand even taller. My lips are stained a pretty red that resembles the blood I saw in the snow earlier. I thought it’d be fitting for my last night out.
Looking at us, Jessa and I are similar in a few ways but total opposites in others. Like me, Jessa is tall, but her hair is blonde, her eyes are blue, and her body is curvier than mine. She’s less awkward than me, too. Where she comes off as flirty and fun, I come off as quirky and weird, something many people have told me over the years. I kind of like that about myself.
“Ready?” I ask her, trying to ignore the gawking from the crowd in front of the entrance.
She nods, inching toward me as we make our way closer to the building.
A man hanging out near the front door is smiling at her. He’s older, and his smile screams pervy old creep.
Looping my arm through Jessa’s, I tow her with me as I hold my head high and march toward the entrance.
And, of course, the creeper comes right for us.
