Vigilant

Davis and Ari only had one meeting place. Passing up her usual club wear, Ari quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and boots. She knotted the oversized t-shirt she wore at the waist and threw on a coat. With her hand on her bedroom doorknob she paused. Oliver and Veronica had been watching a movie on the couch since dinner. Angry didn’t even begin to describe Oliver’s feelings about her late night with Davis and she suspected meeting him again at such a late hour would start a fight, so Ari took a page out of Davis’s book. She grabbed her purse and climbed out her back bedroom window. She almost blew it when she yelped from banging her knee on the windowsill, but managed to close the window without slamming it shut. Ducking past the living room windows, she quietly got in her car and started it without turning on the lights.

Glory’s streets were quiet and the drive to the club only took ten minutes. Since it was still early, the parking lot was only half full. The bouncer nodded at Ari, taking her entry fee and stamping her hand.

“How are you tonight?” he asked. Skinny and pale, he had the opposite look of a standard bouncer. But Glorious wasn’t really a rough club.

“Pretty good. Meeting a friend. You?”

“Eh, another night, I suppose.”

She smiled in sympathy and passed through the door, wrinkling her nose at the familiar smell. Sweaty and dank. Scanning the small crowd, Ari saw Davis hadn’t arrived yet. Did he mean somewhere else? Like the GYC? Even after their previous encounter, that seemed unlikely.

They’d left on good terms, both worn out. Ari could only trust that he’d told her the truth, that he helped those in need. She believed him, but there seemed to be bigger forces going on in Glory City than he revealed.

Ari took a spot at the bar, facing the dance floor and rested her elbow on the sticky surface.

“Want something?” the bartender asked from behind her.

“Just a soda, please.”

“Sure.”

There was still no sign of Davis, but Ari noticed a group of people stopping at the end of the bar. She leaned down to get a better look at the bottle-neck down the row of stools. Maybe he was there? Or one of his guys drawing attention? It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“I’ll be right back,” she said over her shoulder to the bartender. He’d just placed a plastic cup of soda on the bar. Most of the seats were empty anyway so holding one for her shouldn’t have been a big deal.

Ari didn’t need to go far, though. It obviously wasn’t Davis and his crew. All Ari could see was some girl surrounded by a handful of guys. She must have been dressed to kill to get all that attention.

“What’s that all about?” Ari asked the bartender, when she returned to her seat. He looked more the part of bouncer than the bouncer did. Tight black T-shirt. Bulging muscles. Adorable, tip-worthy dimples. She took a sip of her drink. Ugh. It needed more ice.

“Not sure,” he said, running a hand over his shaggy hair. “She’s been here the last couple of nights. She comes with that guy, but then leaves with other dudes. She’s probably hooking.”

Ari frowned. “You let them do that in here?”

“No one’s complained,” he shrugged. “And honestly, I thought they’d be gone by now.”

Ari eyed him for a minute, astounded that he was so laid back about prostitution in the bar. Finally, she asked, “They paid you off, didn’t they?”

He smirked but didn’t reply. Why would he? It was exactly why that crap happened in the first place. People always looked the other way. Ari drained her cup of soda and pushed it away in irritation. She wasn’t one of those people. She didn’t look the other way. She fought for the girls who were left behind, used, and treated like dirt.

“Asshole,” she said, standing up. To her surprise she stumbled, reaching for the barstool for balance. Woozy. “What the hell?” She slapped a hand over her mouth. That was the second curse word in under a minute to slip through.

“Watch it,” a girl said after Ari banged into her.

“Sorry.”

Ari walked down the bar and pushed her way through the group of men. “Move, jackoff,” she said. They argued a little but she wormed her way to the front. The girl faced away from Ari, her thin, pale hand resting on a man’s thigh. She had on a tight black sequined mini-dress and her curly dark hair was off her neck, twisted into a bun. Loose pieces stuck to the sweat on her skin.

“Hey,” Ari said. She ignored the men and reached for the girl’s arm. “Are you okay?”

The man closest to her shot her a look. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you, pervert?” she shot back. The girl turned and Ari felt her jaw dro

p.

“Ms. Grant?”

Ari focused on the blurry figure in front of her. Why was everything so hazy? Her stomach hurt but she strained to see the girl clearly. “Shanna? What are you doing here?”