Page 15 of H E R
“We truly do want to help. Believe me, there’s a lot we may not seem to understand, but we do. Nik’s just hard-headed.” Jule is looking at them, his back facing me as he points in my direction. He turns, still smiling one of the most charming grins I’ve ever seen on him, and joins me.
Piper’s brows furrow in confusion, but it’s her sister’s gleaming green eyes that strike me the most.
“Thank you,” Macy says, staring at Jule.
It’s the first time I hear her speak. Maybe even the first time she’severspoken by the way Piper stares at her, shocked. I’m not about to stick around to unearth the secrets of their vocabulary, so I stalk off. Jule waves like an idiot and repeats the wordsyou’re welcome, like eight times before finally closing the door.
“What did you write on the paper?”
Jule has this stupid grin on his face, one I can only recognize as a ‘star-struck smirk’.
“Our home address.”
I stop walking. “Why thehelldid you do that?”
“Thatcould’vebeen our mother, Nik. I’m sorry, but what else was I supposed to do? They look terrified, and if we don’t help them, who the hell will?”
I look away, rolling my eyes in the process. I hate it when he’s right. When did my little brother grow up, when did he begin to understand the complexities of life, when did he mature enough to outwit me? Wasn’t I chastising him to respect these two women just the other day?
Fuck. “Alright fine, just wipe that stupid smirk off your face.”
We walk and then jog through the sharp bends and curves of the maze-like quadrants, stopping against dark alley walls only when we come close to being spotted. We can’t afford to be detected. On our way, we notice various police vehicles, as well as a few officers, walking the streets.
Jule says nothing, but we share the same expression and most likely our thoughts coincide. Either these cops are seriously looking to find the girl with the Tec9 or Vork has finally attacked prime skin. Who the hell are these two girls, and what do they know? I can’t risk going back. The evening is rolling by quickly, and I have to get ready for work.
My hungry stomach rumbles as I squeeze into some black pleather tights. I curse under my breath and wriggle into an equally tight, dark blue corset, which makes my already abundant chest stick out. I sit on the small, squeaky bed and feel the bodice wrap around my torso like an anaconda about to feast on its prey. I can barely breathe.
“I’m not going to last the night with this ridiculous outfit, Jasmin.”
“Well, that’s what you get for not owning your own.”
She sounds like my mother, but she’s right, though. I have to wear one of her many skimpy work outfits tonight since my regular attire—jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt—are unacceptable dress code.
I stare at my best friend. The differences between Jasmin and me go beyond height. Aside from being five inches taller than me, Jasmin is thin with smooth, dark skin, bright caramel eyes, and luscious, tight curls. She’s a Dominican goddess.
“Whatever, toss me my shoes.”
“Are you insane? You’ll ruin the look with your Chuck’s. Wear Mom’s heels.”
“Now you’re the one who’s insane.”
What did it matter what shoes I was wearing? All I was going to do all night was usher partygoers of a much higher class into a busy nightclub on the outskirts of this fucked upcity. I would not sit for the rest of the night, let alone lean on a wall, so why would I want to parade around in heels? Only a crazy person would put their feet through such torment. But Jasmin reaches for my shoes and shoves them inside a drawer, then digs around until she finds a pair of insanely high-heeled pumps she seems satisfied with.
“Damn it, Jas. Curse the day I said I’d fill in for your friend.”
“You need the money, Justice…That’swhy you agreed, so just keep your mind on that and not your clothes. Besides, everyone there will be dressed in much less,trustme.”
I’d been dodging Jasmin’s attempts to get me to work with her at the nightclub. The thought of being surrounded by people, loud music, sweat, and booze I can’t drink? No thanks. But she’s right, we could use the extra income. I nod dismissively and reach for my camera. I sit on the floor and skim through the footage.
“It’s gone,” I gasp.
Jasmin spins around. “What?”
“The images, the video… it’s all fucking gone.” I press the buttons frantically and scroll left and then right.
Jasmin drops to the floor next to me and resists the urge to yank the device away to search for it herself. Our gazes lock.
“Has this ever happened before?”