“You’re about to become a bank,” she says as she stands.
I skid to a halt, cocking my head. “Okay. How much do you need?”
Her grin only grows. “Not me, love. I’m using the favor for some old friends of mine. You remember Axle, don’t you?”
My stomach flips a little at just the mention of his name. Not that it should. He wouldn’t even glance at me like I was anything more than a nuisance.
Girl needs self-respect.
“Barely,” I lie, batting a hand.
She rolls her eyes before grabbing a few pistols, and starts to shove them into the holsters on her body. She’s dressed in all black. Again. Including pleather leggings—she makes them hot. And a corset. Totally hot.
Me? Not so hot.
I’m in roller skates with my hair in twin balls and my 1970’s pink socks that stop at my thighs, while I wear my pink Bubble Gum Girl T-shirt and little white exercise shorts.
We couldn’t be more opposite.
“Thought they had more money than I do,” I finally say when she stares expectantly at me.
Those are pretty much the words Drex Caine—yes, I know his name now—said to me that night.
The guns she straps on all the time used to make me wary. I’ve learned Sarah is somewhat unhinged—even more so than me.
“They had plenty of money. But shit went down. The club split in half after Drex and Herrin went toe-to-toe. Long story short, all hell broke loose, and Drex finally saw his father as the shitty little weasel he really is. Now Herrin has stolen their money. They need a bank until they get back on their feet. I have a guy who might be able to steal their money back, but that could take time.”
I spin in a tight circle on my skates before pushing off and getting closer to her. She eyes my socks for a second before looking up at me.
“I said sorority girl was a good look. Not Bubble Gum Betty.”
“This is my unwinding attire. Tonight is tense for me. Anyway, I’ll give you however much you need, and you can take it to them.”
Her expression goes blank, no emotion showing.
“I can’t. You’ll have to be the one to give it to them, and you’ll have to convince them to take it.”
My lips purse. “You have a boyfriend on the inside, and in case you’ve forgotten, they ran me out of that place. If they need money, then they shouldn’t need convincing.”
She starts putting on some ammo holsters that hold spare magazines, and I cock my head. That’s new. She doesn’t usually do that when she leaves.
My distraction is interrupted when she speaks again.
“You’ll offer them a job they can’t refuse. Not a loan. It can’t be me who offers it. Jude left me—”
“I thought his name was Snake,” I interrupt.
Her stony expression cracks, and I see the pain in her eyes. “His name is Jude. Snake was just a nickname. I was the only one allowed to call him Jude, and I only called him that when we were alone. Now he takes that special thing away by having everyone call him Jude. It’s just one of the many ways he’s letting me know we’re really over.”
Her face hardens again, and she angrily shoves on a few more holsters that take up her forearm. She bends her arms like she’s testing their flexibility or weight, and then she picks up a few knives and starts shoving them into her waist holster.
“Why’d you break up?”
Her hands pause their jerky movements, and her face stays hidden by her blonde hair as she exhales heavily.
“Because I did the one unforgivable thing.”
“You cheated?” I guess.
Her face stays hidden as she shakes her head, finishing up her dangerous attire.
“No. Worse. I lied.”
I frown at that. “Everyone lies.”
She looks at me grimly. “Trust me when I say there’s nothing worse I could have done where Jude is concerned. His past is really fucked up, and lying is at the core of that.”
“What’d you lie about?” I ask, unable to help myself.
She peers over at me. “I told him I was Sarah, and he fell in love with her. Then he found out I was AJ, daughter of Phillip Jenkins, and he didn’t love AJ. It’s that simple. Hence the reason I still prefer to be called Sarah unless I’m executing people.”
“It’s not that simple. You’re still the same person, just under a different name.”
She straightens, and her eyes flick down to my roller skates.
“You can shoot straight, right?” she asks abruptly, lifting her gaze again.
Apparently we’re finished talking about her ex and her lost identity.
“Yeah…why?” I ask slowly, tensing a little.
“I’m cashing in on another favor. Time is too limited to bring about a group of goons and vet them to make sure they won’t sell me out before I do this, so I need your help. Just point and shoot. I’ll handle the hard work,” she goes on.