He knew Ghost. He’d communicated with Ghost. I couldn’t recall exactly what he’d said, except that I wouldn’t be coming out until late.
On the way home yesterday, Punc didn’t act like he knew that. Then again, I hadn’t asked anyone about Prime.
My phone chimed with a text message from Desiree.
I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes.
The walls of my room vibrated in time from the thudding bass beats of Catalina’s music. She’d had a rare half-day at school. I wandered to her room. Her door was open, and she was laying in bed readingWuthering Heights.
She glanced up at me. “Need me to turn the music down?”
“No. I’ll be gone this afternoon—”
“You can’t drive yet.”
I dipped my chin. “I know. Desiree is picking me up so I can help her and the other dancers with their social media.”
“So they can get beaten up too?” Cat asked.
My lips set with my displeasure.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I forgive you. They’re paying me for helping them - though I think it’s a ruse so I don’t feel like a charity case. Anyway, I should be back after a few hours. Another dancer is bringing me back.”
She twisted her lips. “But you won’t be going on stage, right?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not cleared for any activities like that yet.”
She nodded. “How much time do we have before you have to pay Frank again?”
My sigh couldn’t be helped. “I have to make a payment at the end of the month. I’m using the money Rita gave me for that.”
Cat sat up and set her book aside. “What about our other bills?”
“There’s a slight cushion in the checking account for that. I still have the money I earned from Platinum’s, but I want to hang on to that so I can pay Frank next month. I hope to be cleared for dancing sooner than the doctor ordered - or maybe I can make up for that by doing lap dances.”
“Lap dances?” Cat cried.
I widened my eyes. “That’s how I made most of the money I paid him. Do you want creepy randos coming to the house? Or something worse?”
Her eyes slid to the side. “No.”
“Yeah, now how do I look? Do I need to put on more concealer?”
She arched a brow. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but no amount of concealer is going to hide what happened to you. Besides, I thought you weren’t going on stage.”
“I’m not, but I don’t want to remind everyone of what happened either.”
“Pretty sure that’s impossible.” Her eyes traveled down to my feet. “Are those my sandals?”
I tucked a foot behind my ankle, as if I could hide the shoes. “Yeah, you wore them once.”
She widened her eyes. “Because they went with my prom dress.”
I nodded. “That’s true, but they aren’t too over-the-top, and they go with my outfit.”
Her lips pressed together as she took in my beige linen pants and slouchy turquoise top. For prom Catalina had worn a turquoise sequined cocktail dress. The likelihood of her wearing these strappy sandals again were as slim as the heels themselves.
