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Two of the girls are beanpole thin. They’re younger than me by a few years, wear sundresses, tights, and black Mary Janes. I’m my mom’s only child, so it’s not like I have sisters at home, but I know what Mary Janes are, because the rich girls in my school wear them most days. The two thin girls are totally sisters, because they have the same pointy noses and thin lips. Their hair is the same; color, length, thickness. But the third girl, the one on the bottom of the pile, is a little chunky. She wears a dress too, and a cute coat that goes to her knees, but where the other two look like they enjoy their fancy dresses, the third looks like maybe she’s counting the seconds to toss it all away and wear shorts instead.
Her legs are thick enough for her knees to have dimples, which is kinda… well… cool. I’ve never met someone with knees like that before. All three girls pant, like they’ve been wrestling awhile, but the top two jump up super fast and turn to us, while the other stays down and sprawls back. Exhausted, she opens her legs a little, so I see a flash of white underwear, but I’ve seen my mom’s a million times before, so I turn away and pretend I didn’t see.
“Girls.” The man snaps his fingers and brings his daughters skipping forward. “Stella and Zoey, this is Gunner. I want you to make him feel welcome.”
“Daddy?” One of them looks up from beneath her lashes and makes puppy dog eyes. “He looks weird. Can we come with you?”
“No. Daddy’s got to take care of some business for now, but we’ll be done in a bit. Gunner’s coming back to the house with us tonight, so make sure you’re nice. We don’t get a choice.”
“But, Daddy!” The other one looks to me with a wrinkled nose, then she turns back to the chubby girl. “Why do we have to make friends with these people? They’reawwwful.” She drags the sound out and makes me regret thinking that just because they were kids, they would be cool.
“Because this is the cost of business.” He steps back without a single word for the third girl. Taking the door handle, his dark eyes stop and meet mine. “Play nice. If you’re an asshole to my girls, you’ll see the back of my hand. Do you understand?”
“Umm… yessir.” I jump when he slams the door closed, then I turn back to the sour-sisters and study them the way they study me. My mom taught me to mind my manners, she especially taught me to mind my manners around the female kind, but these girls act like I taste of lemons. “What’s your fuckin’ problem?”
Gasp!Shock! They can’t believe someone would speak to them in such a way.
“How dare you speak to us like that?” Sour-sister number one snaps. “You’re a dirty, poor, street filth boy who doesn’t belong here.”
I lift a brow and chuckle. They knew I was coming today, and they know I’m poor. “Did you practice that speech in the mirror this morning, or was that something you thought up on the fly?”
Sour-sister number two curls her lip and takes a step back. “Peasant. That’s what you are.”
“Yeah?” My eyes drift to the chubby girl to see whose side she’s on, then I look back to the elite squad. “If I’m a peasant, then what does that make you?”
“Worthy,” Sour-sister number one sneers. “We’re classy and demand respect.”
“And her?” I nod to the chubby girl. “How does she fit in?”
“She’s part of thehelp, just like you.” Sour-sister number two looks over her shoulder and glowers. “She needs to learn her place. Her daddy wears a badge; big effing deal.Ourdaddy owns this club. He owns all of this.” She lifts her hands as though to command her army of seahorses to swim up from the depths of the ocean or something. I’m going to call her Ursula. “This is our empire, and you’re nothing but a bastard child with a whore for a mother.”
I lift a hand and roll my bottom lip between my thumb and finger, when really, my hand tingles with the need to smack her down for talking about my mom. If she was a boy, we’d already be on the floor and she’d be knocked the hell out, but nobody ever prepared me for this kind of confrontation. Blood heats and roars through my veins as my temper wants to forget she’s female for a second and lay her out. But we don’t hit girls. We don’t hurt women.
Stepping around the sour chicks and stopping in front ofthe help, I extend my free hand. We’re both poor and unwanted, so I’ll stick with her and make sure those jerks don’t jump her again. “Come on up, girl.” When she’s up, she’s still a whole foot shorter than me, and I have to look down. I smile when I do. “You okay?”
“They’re bitches,” she growls. “Stuck up bitches think they can double-team me.”
I give the bitches my back and speak only to the chubby girl. “What’s your name?”
“Elizabeth.”
I nod. “How old are you, Elizabeth?”
Her eyes narrow. “I’m nine and three quarters. How old are you?”
“I’m eleven and a half, and my mom’s not a whore.” I stare into her eyes. “Will you call her a whore? Because if you do, we’re going to have problems.”
She hurriedly shakes her head. “I won’t say that. I don’t even know your mom, except that she’s Uncle’s girlfriend.”
I take a step back and frown as Elizabeth watches me through dirty green eyes. Her hand remains in mine, despite the fear that trickles into her gaze.
“No… My mom isn’t anyone’s girlfriend. Who told you she was?”
“Oh…” she hesitates. “I don’t know. I thought that’s what the adults said last night. But maybe I’m wrong.”
“You’re definitely wrong.” I hold her hand tighter and stand over her when she tries to step away from my glower. “Don’t say that shit ever again. In fact, don’t speak about her at all.”
“Okay.” She tugs her hand from mine with a grunt, pulling it to her chest and rubbing away the ache from my squeeze. “I won’t say that anymore.”
