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“I’ve been staying with Alex and Squealer,” I explain.
“I heard,” Rogue sighs, sitting up on the table part of the picnic bench next to us.
“This is the part where you tell me he’s complicated, right?” I stop her from giving the same speech everyone else has in an attempt to try and make me feel better.
“Hell no. This is the part where I tell you Screwy’s an asshole, and you can do better.” Rogue shakes her head at me and furrows her brow. “But… I’ll only be wasting my breath because you’ve already fallen for him, and what I say or anyone else tells you should be irrelevant.”
I can’t help but like Rogue. I know she can annoy some of the other girls at times, but she has a no-holding-back attitude that I appreciate.
“I can’t stop thinking about him being with her, and if he goes to her when he gets back, I don’t think I could stay here.” My words come out so freely, and Rogue pulls her head back like I’ve confused her.
“Who?” she asks.
“The girl who told me about the run was in one of the guest rooms when I was helping Marilyn. And couldn’t wait to tell me about how Screwy… you know.” I decide to opt-out of sharing the details.
“Which one?” Rogue rests her elbow on her knees and cracks her knuckles into her palm. There’s a scary glaze that creeps over her blue eyes.
“I don’t know her name. She was blonde, with huge boobs and beautiful skin. She’d spent the night with one of the men from Utah before they all left for Nevada. I think she said his name was Skinner.”
“I’m real done with this shit.” Rogue hops onto her feet, taking my hand and dragging me into the clubhouse. The double door swings back and almost hits me when she barges through it.
“Which one of you cum dumpsters fucked Skinner before he left for Nevada?”
The girl who’s stocking up the bar looks startled at first and then very afraid.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t working that night. I was out of town visiting my parents.”
“Do I look like I give a shit?” Rogue rolls her eyes. “Go find me someone who does know, bitch.”
“I don’t want any trouble.” I tug at Rogue's shirt, wishing I hadn’t said anything. I never expected it to escalate like this.
“Paige?” the girl calls over to the other side of the room, keeping her eyes wearily on Rogue as if she’s a cobra about to strike at any moment. A young girl with pretty features and pink bobbed hair pops her head up from behind the huge speaker.
“You know who took care of Skinner last week before they left on that run?”
“Pretty sure it was Marcie,” she straightens up, and when she sees Rogue, she instantly takes a step back. “She didn’t touch Grimm, though. She wouldn’t–none of us would.”
“Did I ask that question, Frenchie?” Rogue snaps. “No, I didn’t, because I already know the answer to that, don't I? And how do I know?” Rogue’s tone isn’t just threatening–it’s patronizing.
“Because we’re all still living,” the girl named Paige responds like the answer’s been drilled into her.
“Good little slut. Now, where can we find Marcie?”
“She hasn’t surfaced yet. I think she slept upstairs again last night?”
“Come on.” Rogue grabs my hand again and rushes us back out the doors we came through. She charges up the stairs and along the landing, flinging open every door we pass until we find the room that’s occupied.
Sure enough, the same woman who taunted me last week is lying on the bed sleeping. At least this time, she’s better covered in an oversized shirt.
She doesn’t stir at the interruption, and Rogue swiftly moves to the side of the bed, swiping up the bottle of vodka off the side and pouring it over her face. The girl wakes up choking and spluttering. And doesn’t look nearly as seductive as she did the last time I saw her with her hair all sticking to her face.
“Wakey, wakey, bitch,” Rogue tells her. Marcie shoots up, sitting back against the headboard with wide, suddenly very awake eyes.
“What business you think you got trying to make my friend here feel like shit?”
“Just told her a few home truths, is all. Sometimes the truth hurts.” This girl doesn't seem to fear Rogue the way the others did.
“You don’t know jack about the men in this club. You ain’t nothing but a dick polisher.”
