It was tight-quarters: squeezing together on the narrow bench with Spencer kept me pinned between the cold metal wall of the booth and the burning wall of her muscle.
Is that why she’s so strong? To keep up with whatever her “job” demands of her?
I swallowed hard as I realized that she’d closed off the path between me and every exit — that I’d let her do so willingly.
Seeming to sense my unease, Spencer leaned back an inch or so, but it didn’t make the air in the photobooth feel any lighter.
“Kiera, I can ex?—”
“Just let me go.” Her eyes widened, shocked by my interjection, but I kept on. “It’s not a problem. I won’t tell anyone what I saw.”
“It’s not that simple.” She sighed, shaking her head.
“Isn’t it?”
Before she could respond, the booth began to blare upbeat, royalty free music. A bubbly woman’s voice blared from the speakers surrounding us on all sides. “You look great! Press anywhere to start!”
I’d have jumped out of my seat from shock if Spencer’s thighs didn’t have me pinned so firmly. She took a deep breath, raising her voice just slightly over the din of the music. “It’s not safe for you to go back out on your own. Especially after what you just?—”
“The mirror loves you! Press anywhere to start!”
Grumbling, Spencer smacked her palm against the screen, but that wasn’t enough to please our new digital overlord.
“Looking fabulous! Insert tokens to start.”
“Fucking Christ!” Fishing out a handful of gold coins, she gave the machine its tithe before turning back to me and taking a deep breath. “Okay. What do you want to know?”
“Big smile!” The machine shouted as a digital countdown displayed across the screen.
I did my best to tune her out as I waded through the tidal wave of concerns racking my brain. “What’s the money for?”
A big camera shutter sound rang through the booth as it snapped our first photo.
“I don’t know.” Spence sighed.
I pressed my hands to the booth, to her thigh, to any leverage I could find as I tried to pry myself out of the trap, but her handon my shoulder brought me right back down. “I’m being serious, I swear.”
Panic danced behind her brown eyes as she searched my gaze. “I’m not in charge, I just work here and count the money.”
I pursed my lips as I studied her face as the next camera flash flooded the booth with white light. From the furrowed brow to her slight frown, her concern seemed genuine. And given what she’d told me about her mother, it would make sense that she would be willing to turn a blind eye in exchange for some stability.
Lord knows I’ve done plenty of bad to keep my own head above water.
“Grab a prop!” The machine prompted. My eyes drifted to the dollar sign glasses and “show me the money!” text bubble that sat in the small bucket of novelty signs and feather boas at our feet.
Jesus, a bit on the nose, no?
Biting my lip, I looked back at Spencer. A million questions swirled in my mind: how long had she been doing this, who did she work for, how had she gotten down this path? But as the camera counted down on the final photo, there was only one question that really mattered.
“You promise I can trust you?”
“Of course. All I want to do is protect you.” Pleading puppy eyes stared back at me, the slight scrunch of her brows sending a wave of tenderness through my heart.
“Say cheese!” The machine called out one last time before snapping our photo.
I sat for a moment, holding her gaze as I weighed the truth of it.
Could I really trust a criminal? Someone so willing to skirt the rules for her own gain?
