“It’s important because as long as the contract is open, there’s a threat, even if it isn’t active.” She rubs the side of her jaw and a smile crosses her lips, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You gonna miss me, Winter?”
I consider lying, Lucia’s ego is big enough, but I don’t. “Yeah.”
This time her smile is full and she claps a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon, my cousin always calls me when shit is going down, and shit is definitely going to be hitting the fan in a few weeks.” She effectively ends the conversation when she gives me another pat on the shoulder before moving off to find somewhere to stand for the night.
Sighing, I move toward the bar. The club is already packed for the night and I know it means things will be moving fast.
My eyes move over Amarie and she raises a brow. We haven’t really been able to talk this week, and I suspect that’s the way she likes it. It’s one thing that it’s out in the open now that she’s involved in some shady shit, but she still doesn’t want to talk about it.
After hours of constant orders, table bussing, and being shouted at, I finally clock out for my break. I need a bottle of water and I know the ones in the breakroom are colder than the ones behind the bar, so I move into the back hallway.
Before I can make it to the breakroom, a hand wraps around my wrist. I open my mouth to scream.
“Don’t you dare,” Amarie says and I look over to find her looking at me in annoyance.
My heart slows down, “Sorry.”
“We need to talk,” she says, pulling me toward the back door that leads into the alley.
I look behind us, hesitating. It won’t take long for Lucia to come find me. She’s used to me coming to the back for my break to grab either a drink or food but it never takes longer than five minutes.
I don’t even know if Amarie remembers that I’m under constant surveillance as she pushes the door open.
The humid air hits my skin and my hands feel clammy.
The alley is dimly lit but it isn’t hard to see Amarie as she spins around, sending her highlighted curls bouncing. She taps a heel as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Well? You got my proof yet?”
I bite down on the inside of my jaw.
I haven’t seen Diamond since that night at Oasis and it doesn’t seem like things will be changing any time soon. He’s my only hope, considering he’s the one who brought this all to me and I wouldn’t even know where to begin to try to find out more information. My access to anything is virtually non-existent, especially now that Enzo will apparently be coming back.
“I don’t have it yet, but I will soon.” I don’t know if it’s true or not but I don’t want to take the chance of her backing out because I’m not moving quick enough.
“Winter, this shit is serious,” she says, thumping her fingers along her leg. She lets out a sigh before reaching down the front of her dress to pull out a rolled joint. She reaches into the itty bitty pocket that sits on her right hip, pulling out a zippo. It has an orange flame on it. She lights the joint, the smoke floating between us. She doesn’t speak again until she’s taken a drag and released it. “You want my help in taking down one of the most powerful men in this city and I agreed, but the longer you take the longer you leave the both of us vulnerable.”
I swallow. “How? We’re the only ones who know-”
“You got the information from Seven Quad,” she reminds me, pointing her joint right at me before she puts it back between her lips briefly. She shakes her head. “You’re not meant for any of this, you’re too green.”
She mutters something in that second language she sometimes speaks.
“What language is that?”
“French.”
The calm, familiar voice sends a cold chill down my spine. My eyes widen and I look at Amarie but her eyes are over my shoulder, the joint still dangling between her fingers.
Footsteps ring out behind me and when they come to a stop right beside me, I turn to look at Lucia. To say the look on her face is suspicious would be an understatement. Her eyes are narrowed, her lips pressed together, and it looks like she’s smelled something bad.
“Tu parles français?” Amarie is unrattled, calm and relaxed as her eyes slowly sweep over Lucia. They pause on Lucia’s chest for the briefest of moments before she looks her right in the eye.
Unafraid and challenging.
One of Lucia’s eyes narrow more than the other, almost a twitch. “I speak a couple of languages,” she says curtly before turning that hard gaze on me. “What are you doing out here?”
“Smoke break,” Amarie says before I can answer, waving her joint around.
Lucia’s gaze snaps to her and if looks could kill Amarie would be six feet under. “I wasn’t asking you.”