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I contemplated running into the woods, but I knew them too well. If I didn’t answer the door, they’d break in and hang out until I came back. Or they’d run after me. Neither option appealed.
I hung my head, resigning myself to answer the door when all I wanted was a few nights to myself. Apparently that was too much to ask for. Walking through the house, I set the gun on the island on my way to the front door.
The first thing I noticed wasn’t my team, who also happened to be my best friends in the entire world, but the sheer number of bags piled on my front porch. Were they moving in and forgot to tell me?
Adrienne snatched up two bags and shoved the door open wider before strolling inside. Chris, Jessen, Tyler, and Izzy grabbed a few bags each and followed her in. I closed the door and leaned my forehead on it, resolving to fight whatever it was that had dragged them twenty minutes away from their own houses.
I’d chosen my place in the woods for a reason. The rest of my team had moved into new townhomes all within two blocks of each other, but as much as I loved them, I needed my own space.
They were unpacking their bags when I entered the living room.
“What are you all doing here?” I didn’t want company. I wanted to curl up and watch an action movie with fast cars that defied logic and physics. “You know I like to decompress after opps.”
We’d been on a mission to prove ourselves since we’d gotten out from under the government’s thumb, so back-to-back jobs weren’t abnormal. Betty mandated a two-day recovery period after every field operation because she said it was necessary for staying in top form. This was the first time we’d gotten a seven-day break between jobs, and it felt like a gift from the gods. A gift I didn’t want to share, not even with my closest friends in the world.
“You’ve been out here playing forest princess for three days. You’re going out and having fun. No isn’t an acceptable answer.” Izzy planted her hands on her hips and glared at me.
“If I got sucked into it, so do you. I refuse to suffer alone.” Tyler shoved a makeup bag into Chris’s stomach. Chris doubled over and pretended to wheeze, and Tyler sneered at her. “Pathetic. I didn’t even hit you hard.”
Chris stood up straight and flashed a winning smile that Tyler ignored.
“We’re going to the Crow. It’s not like you won’t have a good time.” Jessen rolled her eyes, then focused back on her phone. A few seconds later, a remixed version of a Madison Beer song filled the speakers.
Izzy started to chant “Crow, Crow, Crow” over the music, and everyone else joined in. Izzy jumped on the couch, bouncing as she pumped her fist. They left me with no choice but to laugh. At least they wanted to go to my favorite bar. Way better than those hoity-toity places Adrienne always picked.
Adrienne held up a shirt I knew she’d end up wearing as a dress. Chris sang into her makeup brush while Izzy hopped off the couch and grabbed her blow-dryer.
Tyler was right. I didn’t have a choice. I was going out.
Hopefully none of my girls decided to shoot anyone.
* * *
A hard slap came down on my ass, making me shout. Izzy cackled as she sashayed past me down the sidewalk.
“That was not necessary,” I called after her.
“It totally was. Your ass looks hot in those pants. Practically begging to be slapped.”
Ten minutes in their company while we were getting ready was all it took for me to start having fun. To realize that maybe I needed to go out.
The outfit was what ultimately changed my mind. Adrienne had raided my closet and matched my new leather pants with the acid-washed Linkin Park shirt I’d made but had yet to wear. It was cut up and sewn back together on the sides, and the widened neck made it fall off one shoulder. And after stressing over my accessories, all of which were purchased by her, Aunt Jeannie, or Scarlette, she settled on a cluster of thick silver chain necklaces. My favorite shoes—a pair of spike-encrusted heels—completed the look.
It was an outfit my Aunt Jeannie and Scarlette would have been proud of. Then one or both of them would have asked to borrow it.
Jessen wound her arm through mine as we bypassed the line to get into the bar. Scowls and shouts from the people in line had me stifling a laugh.
“VIPs,” Tyler yelled back, because she always had to have the last word. Even with a group of people she didn’t know and would never see again.
We went inside, and Shelly, our favorite server, waved frantically at us from across the crowded room. There was one table open, big enough for all of us, that had a reserved sign on it.
I sat down and scanned the crowd, getting a feel for the vibe. Crow didn’t have a lot of the issues a lot of other places dealt with. Probably because the owner had a zero-tolerance policy on fights and anything else that could drag the night down. And they enforced it.
The place was a blend of bar and restaurant, with all that distinctive Portland weirdness thrown into the mix. Plants hung from the ceiling, tables were all different styles, plates and glasses didn’t match, big wicker chairs were the height of comfort. And best of all was the massive garage door that spanned from floor to ceiling. It was open, letting in the breeze from the Willamette River.
The waitress greeted us with a grin. “If it isn’t my favorite group.”
“Girl, you flatter me.” Adrienne fanned herself. Always so damn dramatic.
