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It wouldn’t make me feel better, which is precisely her point. Mercy is always the person I go to when I need a metaphorical kick in the ass. Sometimes even a literal one. “How have you been?”
“Enjoying life on the raggedy edge, like always.” Mercy replies drolly. “I watched a tumbleweed roll by the trailer yesterday. That was a highlight.”
“I’m sorry to be such a whiny bitch.”
“Apology accepted. I’m always happy to put a rich white girl in her place.”
“I’ll wire you the money for a new laptop.”
“No, thanks. Banks are a tool of the nanny state.”
“Western Union? Venmo? Carrier pigeon? I’ll send it however you want.”
“The only currencies I accept are cash, grass, and ass of the distinctly male variety. But I appreciate the offer.”
Mercy has never taken money she hasn’t earned, not from me or anyone else. I’m not sure she’d even call me if she was being held for ransom by a Mexican cartel. Not owing anyone anything is the only rule in life that she bothers to follow.
“You’re better than a therapist, lady. You really should consider charging for your time.”
“I’d just end up giving you the friends and family discount..” She glances at something behind the laptop screen as her tone becomes apologetic. “I really do have to go, though. In less than a minute, my location spoofer is going to reset.”
Mercy might never tell me who she works so hard to avoid, but it doesn’t take an idiot to figure out that it’s someone very dangerous. The girl works way too hard to stay off the radar just to targeted advertising or paying taxes.
“Take care of yourself, lady.”
“I always do. Don’t let those rich assholes turn you into something you’re not.”
She clicks off and the computer screen goes black. If Mercy could figure out how to make it self-destruct Mission Impossible-style, she totally would have.
Mercy is right about one thing, though. It’s time for me to act like the girl I really am.
One bad bitch coming right up.
The library closes earlier than I expected. That shouldn’t be much of a surprise considering how empty it is, but I’m still taken aback when a very polite librarian informs me I have to be out in ten minutes.
Drumsville is small enough that there can’t be more than two ride-share drivers within a twenty-mile radius. The wait to match with a driver is estimated at something ridiculous, like two hours or more, so I’m forced to call a cab the old-fashioned way and wait for it out on the street
Street lights and rain greet me as I step outside. It’s the kind of rain that reminds me of just how much I hate being outside unless I’m in a bikini. My hair loses another inch in length to frizz with each passing minute.
A buzz coming from my pocket momentarily distracts me from the terrible weather. I take it out and look at the screen, only to see a message pop up from a number that isn’t in my contacts.
Meet me at Havoc House if you want to talk.
-O
Chapter Nine
I wake up to someone crawling into bed with me. Weight shifting on the mattress isn’t enough to bring me fully conscious, but I have a distant awareness of silky hair tickling under my nose. My arms wrap around a familiar form, coasting over curves that I’ve touched a hundred times before as a very female body settles in against mine. The scent of spicy perfume wafts over me as I inhale.
But something is wrong.
Even while more asleep than awake, some part of me recognizes things aren’t what they should be. The sense of wrongness starts with the smell. I’ve gotten used to a fragrance that’s light and sharp. Crisp like chardonnay and sweet like melted sugar.
Instead, something heavy and chemical assaults my nostrils. I dream of barreling through a department store perfume section with whatever high school girlfriend I’m trying to impress, fighting off the urge to vomit. The scent is pretty, but industrial and more than a little off-putting.
I come awake enough to open my eyes and I see the face that I expect to see. The smile that curves her lips reminds me of what it feels like to come home. I’ll never get sick of seeing it, no matter what I have to sacrifice to make that happen.
My eyes adjust slowly to the darkness, but some traits stand out with startling clarity. Blue eyes blaze with fire, pert features that don’t amount to much on their own come together in a way that always robs me of breath, even now.
