Page 10 of Bleed

If he’s fishing for information about Taylor, he picked the wrong fucking pond. I know what it means to keep your life on lockdown; to choose survival over everything else. I’d sooner bite off my own tongue than betray someone I love.

The city slides by in a blur of neon and steel as nausea curls in my gut. I close my eyes, letting the hum of the road lull me for a second as my mind races to piece together how the hell to handle what just happened.

Maybe it was a one-off that’ll blow over.

Or maybe the game just changed.

Only time will tell.

Chapter

Four

“So…” Alaia presses, her blue eyes gleaming beneath the warm glow of the living room lamp. “What do you think?”

I bounce up and down a few times, testing the cushion beneath me. “It’s nice.”

“Nice?” she scoffs, slapping a hand against her chest dramatically. “That thing cost like four grand!”

My brows shoot up. “For a couch?”

“For luxury,” she corrects.

“That’s… insane,” I breathe, shaking my head as I glance down at the buttery tan leather beneath me. “You could buy a fucking car for that.”

She rolls her eyes, folding her arms. “A car wouldn’t match the aesthetic of our living room though, would it?”

“Since when do we have an aesthetic?” I snort.

“Since we started making enough money to actually buy furniture instead of poaching shit from beside dumpsters,” she replies with a shrug.

I glance around the room, cataloging all the upgrades she’s made over the past few months. In addition to the couch, there’s now a sleek glass coffee table sitting atop a cream-colored rug, a pair of matching end tables, and an actual TV stand replacing the warped dresser we’d been using. The place is starting to look like somewhere functioning adults live instead of a trio of degenerates barely scraping by, which I don’t hate. And considering our old couch was one busted spring away from collapsing completely, we definitely needed an upgrade.

Just… maybe not one that costs two months’ rent.

“I feel like I should be wearing gloves just to sit on this,” I mumble, running my palms over the smooth leather.

Alaia barks a laugh, flipping her blonde hair over a shoulder. “As if the couches you’re sitting on every night don’t cost ten times that. Vamps fill their homes with expensive shit, so why shouldn’t we?”

Many reasons come to mind– the biggest being that the rich vampire clientele at Bite are in a very different financial position than we are as donors– but there’s no point in arguing.

Alaia’s been drunk on the lifestyle since the money started rolling in. In addition to the apartment upgrades, she’s invested in designer clothes, expensive makeup, and more purses than any one person could ever need. Maybe it’s shallow, but after a lifetime of struggling to make ends meet, I can understand the appeal of finally getting to have nice things. And if she wants to spend her blood money on lavish furniture rather than saving it to invest in her future, that’s her prerogative.

“You do you, boo,” I sigh, pushing to my feet. “I’ve gotta go get changed.”

Her gaze flicks over me as I stretch my arms over my head. “You’re working tonight?”

“Mhmm,” I hum. “Just a standard feed with one of my regulars. Should be back by ten.”

“Ooh, which one?” she asks, perking up.

The corner of my mouth ticks upward. “Henry.”

Alaia narrows her eyes thoughtfully. “Is he the one who looks like Richard Gere?”

“Yup,” I reply, my smirk deepening. “Major daddy vibes.”

“Lucky bitch,” she laughs.