Unsurprisingly, when I’m done outlining the deal and the reasons behind it, Rebel agrees to take the tyres. She can’t pay nearly what they’re worth, but Princess confirms what she can give us will be enough to pay for the meds, so that’s good enough.
I take the cash from Rebel, crumpled fifty pound bills rolled together untidily, and give half of it to Princess. He takes the money and pockets it without argument. It’s never a good idea for one person to carry too much money at the same time, better if we split the bills until we can buy the meds.
Rebel takes us back through the sidedoor. “You two stay safe out there, ok.” She gives us both a sad little smile, knowing it won’t be our choice whether we’re safe or not. Those are things other people decide for us, most days.
Princess turns around and holds his fist out to Rebel. “Thanks for this.”
Rebel seems momentarily surprised by the overt show of gratitude, but she’s quick to bump her fist against his. “No worries, kid.”
Princess nods in return and stuffs his hands into his pockets, decreeing the exchange officially over. He looks at me, silently asking for us to get a move on, the impatient little brat.
Purposefully ignoring him, I smile up at Rebel. “You got any jobs you need help with this week?” I ask eagerly, thinking about that Valkyrie all dismantled back in the shop.
Rebel sighs fondly. “Yeah, actually. Come by tomorrow afternoon and I’ll give you something to work on.”
I make a valid attempt to keep the excitement out of my voice. “Brilliant, yeah! Do you still have the classic Cruiser that needs new breaks, because I think I can get some-“
Princess huffs, grabbing my arm and tugging on it. He’s rolling those deep green eyes like I’m proving as much an inconvenience to him as he suspected I would.
I flick one of his loose curls in retaliation and he makes a truly satisfying noise of outrage.
“See you later, then, yeah?” I salute Rebel with two fingers.
Rebel lets out another rackety laugh as she turns around to go back inside.
“Come on, princess.” I snatch hold of his hoodie sleeve and drag him off down the alleyway, making a gesture at where Bo and Amira are positioned as lookout, beckoning for them to follow us. We join Paige at the other end of the alleyway. She turns to us with an expectant pair of raised eyebrows.
“You get it?” she asks.
I pat the pocket that holds my half of the money. “Yep.”
Paige nods, unsurprised. It was Paige who first met Rebel when she was running away from the police. Rebel let her hide in the garage until they were gone.
Bo and Amira come up behind us and gather in close until the five of us have formed a tight circle.
“We heading to your meds contact next?” Paige asks, looking to Princess.
He dips his head. “Yeah, his flat is about twenty minutes away. We can be in and out pretty quick.”
“You trust him to give you the right stuff?” Bo asks, brow furrowing with worry. Amira squeezes their arm in reassurance. Bo feels some kind of way about people being given medication they don’t need. I don’t know the full story, but I’m almost certain there was a misdiagnosis of their mental health by some indifferent or uninformed psychologist in their past.
“Yeah,” Princess assures them. “He’s helped me out a couple times before and it was all fine.”
“Cool,” I slap him on the back, for which he punches me in the torso. It’s not a weak hit either, despite his size suggesting otherwise, he’s got some real strength in those skinny arms. I twang another one of his curls and he quite literally gnashes his teeth at me, threatening to bite off my fingers the next time I touch his hair.
Paige sighs, deeply unimpressed by our antics.
“Boys,” she snaps, “flirt later, mission now.”
My cheeks heat up instantly and Princess sputters that he is most definitelynotflirting with me, fuck off.
Paige waves off both our reactions and gestures ahead of us. “Come on, pretty boy, take us to your drug dealer.”
“He’s not adrug dealer.” Princess snorts, but he complies with Paige’s demand, leading us down the street.
“No?” I ask dubiously, drawing up next to him, keeping close, my arm brushing against his as we walk. “He sells drugs. Kinda the definition of a drug dealer right there.”
“Yeah but, he’s not, like, aheroinsort of drug dealer.” He waves a hand like that will fill in the blanks of what he means.
