The sky turned an ominous shade of deep purple-ish blue and yellow as the sun prepared to set. Kat gripped the steering wheel as she stared out at the buildings that lined both sides of the street. A different street than we’d roamed earlier today. A different part of town: sketchier, cheaper.
A half-lit lamppost across the street flickered, drawing attention to the crumbling brick building looming above it. Its windows were busted out and multi-colored graffiti was spray-painted on its sides. Despite its condition, it was beautiful, with tall window frames and a massive wooden front door. I envisioned what it must’ve looked like when it was taken care of. Maybe it was a hospital or an apartment building, or maybe even a library. I closed my eyes and imagined inhaling the scent of paper and plastic book coverings…
“This is it.” Kat’s announcement ripped me out of the safe haven of my imaginary library. “This is where we have to find jobs. If we can’t find some kind of work in this part of town, we’re not going to find any. We have $102.54 left, and it’s going fast.”
Billi Jo braced her scruffy red Chucks against the dashboard and pulled the half-tied shoestring. “We’ll find work today,” she said with an unusual air of confidence.
“We have to.” Kat straightened her wig in the rearview mirror. “We also have to ditch this car. We’ve never stayed in the same area twice, but once we get jobs and an address, that has to change.”
“Why do we have to get rid of the car?” Billi Jo finished the last loop on her shoestring and tightened it. “I’ve already told you Travis isn’t gonna report it stolen because it was already stolen when he won it.”
“Your jackass uncle isn’t the one I’m worried about; it’s Ace.” Kat poked a straggling dark strand of hair back under her platinum wig. “He saw what we were driving the night we left his pawn shop.”
Billi Jo yanked her other string and put her feet on the floorboard. “Ace won’t rat us out; he’s scared shitless of Travis.”
“Yeah, he looked real scared the other night when he was hitting on you.” Kat painted on her fire-engine red lipstick.
“Hitting on me is one thing, ratting me out is another. Ace considers himself a smart businessman; he rats me out, his clients start wondering if he’ll rat on them and his business goes to shit.”
“That may be true, but it’s a chance we can’t take any longer.” Kat smeared on lip gloss then popped her lips.
My stomach churned. My friends were in this for me, because of me. Making a fist, I reached my arm over the seat between them to offer our ‘all for one’ sign. Kat’s shoulders relaxed and she turned sideways in her seat to meet my fist, along with Billi Jo.
“Same rules as always,” Kat started. “If for some reason we get separated, we meet back at the car. Look around; remember that building.” She pointed at my library. “It’s the tallest one around here, so no matter how far we go, it’s our north star.”
We bumped our fists together one last time and exited the car. At least one of us had to score a job by the end of the night. The alternative was going on the run alone or turning myself in.
“It’ll be dark in less than an hour.” Kat scowled at the sky. “We need to close a deal, then head back to the car.”
Billi Jo pointed to a strip mall a couple blocks away. “Looks like some prospects down that way.”
We took off for the two-story strip mall, and when we reached the sidewalk, I nodded toward the red and green trimmed building. “I’ll take the pizzeria.”
“Billi Jo, you’ve got the laundromat, and I’ll take the tobacco store.” Metal pinged when Kat smacked a blue postal box. “We’ll meet back here.”
I tucked my hair behind my ears, pushed the black-framed glasses Kat gave me further up on my nose, and pulled open the glass door to the two-story building. The smell of cheese, sauce, and pepperoni made my mouth water and reminded me how badly I needed a job. I straightened my shoulders, swallowed hard, and stepped up to the hostess stand.
“Hi,” I pronounced with a long ‘i’ instead of the short ‘i’ that would give away my southern accent. “I’m wondering if you’re hiring?”
A stocky middle-aged man with a mop of black hair and an equally moppy mustache reached beside the register, ripped off a piece of paper from a thick notepad, and slapped it on the counter in front of me. “Fill this out.” He nodded to the only two empty booths to his left.
I picked up the application and took a pen from a red can, then took a few steps to an empty table.
Name: Should be easy; not so much when your name is River Daniels. REEVA, I spelled the alias Kat suggested after seeing our names in the newspaper. Should be easy enough to remember—on paper anyway. BRADEN, I filled in Justice’s last name because it’s also the easiest to remember. And because it’s the only last name I’ve ever wanted.
I take a sharp breath and move to the next line.
Date of Birth: Another easy answer if you’re not a fugitive. I scribbled in the month and day of Jamie’s birthday and subtracted a few years from my birth year. My mind flashed to our trek to this part of town. Something told me as long as I proved to be a decent employee, certain indiscretions could be overlooked.
Address: Tricky one. I tapped the pen against the table as I laughed to myself. Can’t get an address if you can’t get a job, and you can’t get a job if you don’t have an address.
A bell dinged, signaling incoming customers. Two guys who looked to be around my age swaggered to the counter. “’Sup, Rodolfo. Where’s my cousin?” asked the taller one wearing a backwards black ball cap, a t-shirt, and baggy jeans.
“Tony just left.” Coins clinked into the register drawer as Rodolfo emptied a roll of quarters. “Said he’d be back in thirty.”
Tall Guy’s mouth twisted. “Asshole could’ve left his apartment unlocked.”
Rodolfo chuckled as he counted coins. “I think he knows you, Wick.”
“Watch it, Ro.” Wick snatched a handful of mints from a red bowl next to the register and tossed one to his buddy. “I’ll have a chat with Tony and you’ll be findin’ yourself out of a job.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m real worried.” Rodolfo held out a menu and lifted his chin in my direction. “Go have a seat while you wait, and order yourself somethin’ to eat, why don’t ya?”
“What I want ain’t on this menu.” Wick winked and strutted away, and his friend fell in beside him.
Rodolfo shook his head and went back to counting coins.
Shit. I buried my head in my application, hoping they didn’t notice me. This application was difficult enough without this idiot and his sidekick distracting me. But because I’m a lucky, lucky girl, they chose a seat in the booth behind me, with Wick’s back to mine.
“Fuck,” Wick cursed. “Tony better hurry up, ‘cause I’m jonesin’.”
His friend twitched his head, sweeping his dark blond hair out of his eyes. “Man, you better pull back on that shit or you’re gonna end up in rehab just like Masterson. Get your basketball scholarship yanked before you even settle in your dorm.”
“Drakie, my brother, have some confidence. Besides, Masterson was on pills; this is just a little weed.”
“Then why do we have to come all the way down to this shit-pot every time you need a little? They sell weed on the east end, too, ya know?”
“Yeah, but Tony gets the import shit—it’s the best.” Wick sighed. “You know. You’ve smoked up with him before.”
Drakie chuckled. “He just makes you believe that because he likes to take your money.”
“And I like takin’ his. That’s what the poker games are for; I always earn my money back.”
“Not always. Remember what happened last time when he thought you were trying to cheat him?”
Wick laughed. “Man, I was tryin’ to cheat him.”
“Which is why you ended up with a black eye and empty pockets.”
“Well, tonight is different. Tonight is all about diversions: I brought his Kryptonite.” I could hear the smile in Wick’s voice.
“Nice. You invited hot girls with low standards?”
“Nah, man, his other Kryptonite—whiskey.”
My stomach turned just thinking about whiskey—Logan’s weakness.
“Shit. Let me at least hold a fifty for you. I don’t wanna get stuck on this end of town with no money again.”
“No sweat, Drakie. Tonight I have a grand to play with. The old man was feelin’ guilty about being away on business and missing my graduation.”
At least his old man missed an important event because he was working, not because he was off getting drunk with friends named after animals. And holy shit, he got paid a thousand dollars for doing something everybody else has to do for free? Spoiled rich boy with nothing better to do than make trips to buy weed and gamble—no wonder Cousin Tony kicked his ass.
A waitress carrying a huge platter of spaghetti and meatballs passed my table, and my stomach growled. I glanced out the window where Billi Jo and Kat were waiting slumped against the mailbox. My heart sank, and I gripped my purse containing the last of our money. If a miracle happened and I got the job on the spot, I’d buy us a small pizza to celebrate.
I checked the clock above the register—if Rodolfo was right, Cousin Tony should be here in fifteen minutes. Preparing to make a decent impression, I smoothed my ponytail and slipped my hand inside my purse for my cherry chapstick and a breath mint. Then I found the card box I kept money in. Last year, after my wallet got stolen in gym class but my card deck was untouched, I decided the box would be a good hiding place for bills.
I was straightening out our last, crisp hundred-dollar bill when a buff guy with olive skin and a sleeve of tattoos entered from the back through a set of swinging doors.
“You’re back early,” Rodolfo said when Tony stopped at the register.
I scooped up my purse and application and made my move. What I didn’t count on was Wick the Dick getting out of his seat at the same time and heading in my direction like a snowplow.
“Auughhh!” I yelped when my still-tender face bounced off his chest like a paddle ball, sending me staggering backwards and the contents of my purse clattering to the floor. Wick reached out and caught my arm, and I shuddered. “Let go of me,” I yelled, but it only came out as a choked whisper.
Everything inside me froze as I stared at his strong fingers wrapped tight around my arm.
Immediately, he let go. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was just tryin’ to keep you from slamming into the waitress with the tray full of dishes behind you.” He kneeled down and started gathering loose items. “Here, I’ll help you.”
“I don’t need your help.” I rubbed at my arm where his fingers had been, and my stomach convulsed when I noticed fading yellow bruises in the shape of fingertips. Logan’s fingertips.
“Look, I’m sorry. Just let me help you somehow.” He offered me a handful of coins he’d collected.
I couldn’t decide if his tone was sincere or irritated, but because my throat had gone cotton-dry and he obviously wasn’t listening anyway, I kneeled down beside him and started scooping up my things.
“So…what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ on this end of town, anyway?”
I had my answer; his tone was sincere, but guilty with motivation.
My hand ached to slap him, A) for touching me, B) for using such a cheesy line, and C) because I had a strong feeling this was heading in the ‘hot girls with low standards’ area and I didn’t qualify in either department. Well, maybe the latter, except that it didn’t matter how low my standards were, I was never dating again.
I held up the application, hoping to end the conversation. “Job hunting.”
“You might wanna keep looking. The guy that owns this place is kind of a prick.”
“Yeah, well, I need money.”
He held up a hundred dollar bill between his forefinger and middle finger—my hundred dollar bill.
I snatched it out of his fingers. “It’s all we have.”
He swiped a card off the floor. “We?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I just moved to town with friends.”
“Girlfriends, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Hot girlfriends?”
I took a deep breath and batted my eyelashes twice. “I’m gonna go with yes.”
He nodded like I’d just told him a secret he planned to file away. “You play?” He collected several of the scattered cards that had exploded around us on impact.
First rule of hustling a game of anything—never admit knowing how to play. “No.”
His eyebrows shot up as he held up the evidence. “No?”
Then I did what I never do, but I’d watched Kat do a million times to gain power: I said something moderately bitchy while maintaining eye contact. “Again, not that it’s any of your business, but we’re new to town. I thought we should learn to play a few games. You know, when in Rome…”
One side of his mouth curled. “I play cards a little. I might be able to help you out.” He pointed to the ceiling. “And there happens to be a card game going on right upstairs tonight.”
“And you would invite a perfect with you because…?”
“Because I feel bad about tackling you, because you said you needed money, and because I’m a nice guy.”
Yeah, nice guy alright; he didn’t mention the part about needing diversions in the form of girls so he could get even with his buff Cousin Tony.
“Okay, and because you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”
I stuck my finger toward the back of my throat in a gagging motion.
“Too bad you don’t play cards, though. You could double or triple that.” He pointed to the hundred I’d stuffed back into the card box. “Gambling is a useful skill in this town.”
I dropped the last of my belongings into my purse and stood. “Not if you don’t know how to play.”
He stood and handed me one last penny I’d missed. “Ever heard of beginner’s luck?”
“I’m not a lucky kinda girl.” An understatement.
“How about we test your theory?” Wick waved over Cousin Tony, who looked to be in his early twenties.
Before I could object, Cousin Tony was in front of us. “Hey, this girl’s lookin’ for a job. You got anything?”
Cousin Tony scanned me with about as much interest as a vegan with a steak placed in front of him. “Yeah, I need a dishwasher.”
“Um…I was kind of hoping for a waitress position.” I held out my forged application. “I have exp—”
“Dishwasher. Take it or leave it.” Tony shrugged, then turned to say something to a waitress passing by. Wick mashed his lips together in a smug, ‘I told you so.’
“Come back on Friday for an interview,” Tony called over his shoulder before he strutted away and ascended up a set of stairs.
Friday? My stomach sank. That was in three days—we’d be broke and starving by then.
“See, beginner’s luck,” Wick said.
I glared at him. “You call that luck?”
“Hey, he doesn’t usually interview people he doesn’t know.” He shrugged. “You can thank me for that.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, one more thing.” He crinkled his nose. “I happen to know he doesn’t cut paychecks until two weeks after your first day.”
“Still not interested in your little poker game.”
“Well, blue eyes, I’ll be right up those stairs if you change your mind.” He pointed to the stairs where Tony had disappeared. “There’s an outside entrance, too, if you decide to come back after closin’ time. Oh, and bring your girlfriends.”
“I said no.”
“You also said you needed money.” He winked, then walked away.
“No application in your hand.” Kat closed her eyes as she took a long draw off her cigarette, then exhaled. “Please tell me that means you’re employed.”
Billi Jo clasped her hands together, her big black eyes begging like a hungry kitten as she waited for my answer.
My stomach sank. How could I tell them I failed after all they’d sacrificed for me? I glanced up at the apartment building above the pizzeria, and my fist closed around the strap of my purse. Wick wanted diversions and he was about to get them…three of them.
“Not employed exactly, but…” I dipped my hand in my purse and felt for the box of cards. “Ladies, we’re about to get paid.”
Kat flicked her ashes onto the pavement. “I’m listening.”
I pulled out my deck of cards. “Poker.”
Billi Jo took Kat’s cigarette. “You went in to fill out an application, and you hustled a game of poker?”
“Yup. I overheard a couple of rich boys talking about a poker game tonight, some crazy shit happened, and voilà, we got invited to play.”
Kat swept the bangs of her platinum wig to the side. “Sounds too easy. What’s the catch?”
“The guy who owns the apartment where this is taking place hasn’t officially approved our invite.” I squinted one eye. “Yet,” I added, then pointed to Kat. “That’s where you come in; well…you and your equipment.”
Billi Jo’s eyebrows rose. “You want her to pepper spray him?”
“The other equipment.” I tugged on my tank top, imitating how Kat exposed her cleavage earlier. “This guy, Tony, apparently can’t play poker with distractions.”
“You want me to be the distraction while you two work your magic.” Kat smirked. “Been there, done that.”
It’s not that we’d ever intentionally set out to cheat at cards, but we weren’t opposed to teaching someone a lesson.
Billi Jo passed the cigarette back to Kat. “Looks like our Monday night poker marathons with Uncle Asshat and his GA buddies weren’t a total waste.”
We each gave Billi Jo a fist bump, and then I led the way toward the outside steps of the apartment.
“How do you know they have money on them?” Billi Jo asked.
I pushed my glasses up on my nose. “Because they came to buy weed from Cousin Tony.”
“Nice.” Kat patted the side pocket of her purse where she kept her pepper spray. “We’re playing cards with drug dealers.”
“We’ll have to keep an eye out for Tony, but the other two are harmless.” I think.
Billi Jo ran her hand over her spiked locks. “That’s what you thought about—”
“Listen up,” Kat cut her off, then stopped at the bottom of the steps to face us. “If things start going downhill, I’ll give the signal, then we leave it all on the table and bail.”
“What’s the signal?” Billi Jo and I asked at the same time.
Kat dropped her cigarette and ground it into the pavement. “You’llknow it when you see it.”