Once he’s gone, Zane turns to me. “I’ll have a private word with Dahlia. She’ll get on board once I pay her enough to make it worth her while.”
I nod, genuinely grateful he has my back and that we don’t have to rely on Wilder sticking to the plan.
“He didn’t mean Addie, you know. He’s just…”
“Yeah. He’s just.”
Wilder comes along with us on the raids because he likes the excitement, he likes the destruction. He doesn’t care that for me it’s not an exercise in vandalism, it’s what gives me purpose.
Retribution for the habit that cost my sister her life.
I might never know who got her hooked, who kept feeding her habit when me and my dad were killing themselves trying to keep her safe, but I don’t need to. Not when I can wipe every dealer from this town, sparing countless others her fate.
In time, I’ll turn it into an oasis free from drugs, except those dispensed in a licenced pharmacy.
“What about the girl?”
It’s no surprise that Zane asks the question that never crossed Wilder’s mind.
“Sorting it as we speak.” I pause for a moment, then fill in the rest. He’ll find out soon enough. “If things work out the way I want, you’ll be seeing a lot more of her.”
“Yeah?” His gaze is curious. Understandable since he and Wilder have never seen me pay any attention to women before. My sole focus has been targeting the dealers, avenging Addie, but he must read enough in my expression to relax. “Good.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
EVIE
The next morning,Ant camps in the bathroom, making horrible noises, while I hunch near the window, trying to apply makeup. The tiny pocket mirror I’m using is cracked, silver paint peeling off the back, and even utilising the strong light from my new phone, I can barely see a thing.
A situation I haven’t noticed before because it’s been so long since I wore makeup outside of work, we were in a different flat the last time I tried.
With an irritated sigh, I give up, wearing lippy and straggly mascara that looks awful but will look far worse if I try to remove it.
I was right about my old uniform no longer fitting. I never had much of a growth spurt, but when I went from five foot even to five foot two, my hips decided to join in and grow at least an inch or two in circumference, making everything old a tight squeeze.
The woollen kilt stretches enough to drag the waistband into place, but I can’t fasten the zipper. A long blouse hides that fact,but it can’t do anything for the way it pulls taut in all the wrong places while folding into inelegant creases in others. The top is also missing a fairly important button. I thread a safety pin through and hope for the best.
Besides, he’s not asking me along because he thinks I’d rock a school uniform.
No. He’s asking you along because he’s a freak who wants to do unspeakable things to your unresponsive body.
My face scrunches. My stomach does a slow forward roll, threatening to bring up all the delicious cereal.
I should be on the phone to work, flattering Robyn until she gives me back some hours this week. Not twisting myself into knots, getting ready for a school I barely attended at the best of times, and not at all for the past two years.
My thumbs are poised over the keypad, about to text Maddox back, tell him I can’t make it, when there’s a knock on the door.
It’s not eight. I check the time on my screen.
Okay. It is eight but I’m not ready. Panic pours adrenaline into my veins and my face turns clammy, heart racing the way it does before I get onstage or go into a private room for a lap dance.
Since when did attending school feel the same as work?
Maddox
You’re not standing me up, are you?
I open the door, bracing myself for his inspection, but he barely glances at me. “Good. Thought you were having second thoughts.”
