“What the fuck are you wearing?” I say, letting go to shine my light the length of her body. Not a great distance. A littleover five feet from head to toe, ninety percent of that consisting of smooth, supple legs. “You always steal drugs in your shortest dress?”
“Give me those.” She gets to her knees and snatches at my pocket for the baggie, blinking in dismay when I beam the light into her face again. As she struggles to her feet, her chin juts upwards in defiance. “I paid for them. They’re mine.”
“Finders’ keepers.” My light moves to her arms, covered in a thin jacket that covers her while still leaving nothing to the imagination. “You a hooker?”
“I was at a club,” she says through gritted teeth, folding her arms over her chest when I keep staring. “I need that medicine.”
“Medicine?”My face goes slack with surprise a moment before a new burst of laughter erupts from me. “That’s a good one.”
Her face is stony. Completely unamused.
“Push your sleeves up. Show me your arms.”
She shoves them in front of the light, exposing the unblemished skin on the inside of her elbows. “No track marks,sir.” The word is edged with insult. “Can I have my bag now?”
I stare at her, enjoying the altercation enough that I consider handing the package across. A few foils won’t tip the balance one way or the other.
But there are other ways to extend my fun.
“Against the wall,” I tell her, enjoying the flash of irritation in her eyes. “Time to frisk you.”
“I’m wearing a skintight bodysuit,” she snarls back. “Where exactly am I meant to hide something?”
She steps to the side and into the sliver of moonlight from the peephole. Enough light for me to recognise her. Not a girl I’ve ever talked to or shared classes with, but I’ve seen her at school.
I frown, trawling my memory banks. She hasn’t appeared there for a while. Years, even.
Still, she’s a senior like me. Given her current attire, she left to shake her booty down at Chezzers. I bet they eat up those long legs and pert tits, and completely overlook the spirited flashes from her large eyes.
Blue? Green? It’s hard to tell in the silvery light.
You’re meant to be destroying everything in sight so the fucktards who profit off this place can’t ever come back. Who cares about her eye colour?
I snap to attention, grabbing her upper arm again, pushing her backwards to the wall since she refused my perfectly reasonable demand. There’s a gunshot from the level above ours and the girl flinches, her arm pulling from my grasp as she raises it to shield her head.
When I grin, the resulting unease on her face makes my smile grow wider. Her shoulder feels good cupped in my hand. She’s so tiny, it barely takes any effort to keep her pinned in place.
The faint tang of smoke in the air grows thicker. Not bad with my makeshift mask in place, but her nose twitches, mouth pulling down in concern.
“Got the goods,” my friend Zane calls from another room. “But there’s nothing much here, man.” He stands in the doorway behind me, and the girl’s eyes flick over for a look.
She frowns, turning back to me. I can almost see the wheels turning in her mind, totting up the evidence on offer and finding a different answer than she expected to find.
“Who the hell are you?” she demands.
“I’m the one asking questions.” I let the heel of my palm dig into her shoulder as a reprimand, waiting for her to wince before I ease the pressure, removing my hand and tapping her sternum with my curled knuckle. “Give me names, sweetheart.”
“Jack. Ruby. Aroha. Wendy. Do they do it for you?”
“There’s a steel barrel off the side of the first room,” I call to Zane. “You can burn the drugs there.”
The girl lunges forward. Physically, there’s no contest, but it’s still satisfying to block her escape, to use nothing more than the intimidation of my size to drive her back into position, my palms landing either side of her head to box her in.
I feel her heat, see the increasing rise and fall of her chest, smell the evaporating traces of her perfume.
Or it could be the addicting scent of fear as I bend over her, bigger, brutish, able to manhandle her without the slightest touch. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re still having our chat, remember?”
“Not if you’re burning everything, we’re not.”
