Ryan steps inside, not bothering to look back to see if Trent and I are following him. Trent nudges me subtly with his arm, falling in step behind me as I stumble forward. I keep moving, my muscles jerky with the tremors running through them. I probably look like one of the junkies. Someone itching for a fix. Better to look like an addict than a coward.
We come into a large open area with high ceilings and exposed beams. The remnants of a huge fish tank sits on the opposite side of the room. It’s emptied of water but looks like it’s filled with something else. Shoes maybe? It’s too dark to tell and I’m too freaked to wander over and look. I hang close to Trent, of all people.
I am knee deep in Neverland now. There are so, so, so many Lost Boys. They’re milling around the lobby, swarming everywhere. No one close, but they’re on the peripheral. Walking on the catwalks above us, sitting around what was once a reception desk to the left and a lot of them are coming and going behind the fish tank. Back there must either be where the fights or the girls are.
The people, they don’t bother me so much. I got pretty used to it at the Colony, though I never learned to like it. What’s bugging me more than anything is the darkness and the lights. It’s too dark to see well, to know who is who and what their life status is. But the light annoys me more. Strung all over the building are strands of LED Christmas lights of every color. I hate Christmas lights. Christmas trees, Christmas music, Christmas presents, but I absolutely cannot stand Christmas lights. These LEDs make the movements of the people around me seem strange, almost like a strobe light. I try my hardest to ignore them but it’s like ignoring the sun. It’s everywhere.
“Ryan,” a high pitched voice sings out.
We all turn to see a girl about my age walking down the stairs from the catwalks. She’s wearing next to nothing. Tiny little shorts and a tinier tank top. Her long blond hair looks pretty clean, making me wonder if The Hive has hot showers. I’m pretty sure they don’t get their soap from Crenshaw.
“Elise,” he says, his voice no warmer than it was for the bouncer.
“I thought that was you. I missed you the last couple times you were here.”
“I wasn’t here to socialize.”
“What about tonight?” she purrs, walking right up to him and pressing her hand against his stomach. “Do you have time to be social tonight?”
I go to take a step toward them, but Trent stealthily grabs my hand. Thank goodness it’s my good hand, because he crushes it in his. When I glare up at him, trying to pull it out of his grasp, he shakes his head minutely. I freeze, waiting.
Ryan steps back from the girl. She steps forward, regaining the ground and giggling up at him.
“Not a good time, El. I’m here to see the Boss tonight.”
“What about after? You might want a midnight snack.”
He jerks his head toward Trent and I. “I packed a lunch.”
I want to punch him, but I remind myself that being a trick was my idea.
Elise smiles happily. “Ryan, finally taking a taste! It’s about time.” She glances over at me, frowning. “She’s scrawny, though. Where’d she come from?”
“I don’t know. She’s on loan from the Pikes.”
The girl scrunches her nose in disgust at me. “Geez, Ryan, are you that hard up? There are girls here that would give it up to you for free and you wouldn’t have to check them for fleas.”
“Just crabs,” I say sharply.
“What did you say?” she shrieks.
“I said you’re a dock walker,” I enunciate slowly. Loudly. “No doubt you’re crawling with crabs.”
“You’re dead,” she breathes, taking several steps toward me.
I’m itching for her to come closer. Just a little bit closer. Even with Trent destroying my good hand and my other arm on the mend, I could beat this chick into the ground. She won’t remember her own name when I’m done with her.
“You’re just mad because she’s right, Elise,” a voice flows down from the rafters, a soft southern drawl making her bitter words sound sweet.
We all look up to see a woman with long dark hair making her way toward the stairs. She’s beautifully pale and dressed almost the same way I am, only her bra, if she had one on, would be working a lot harder than mine.
“Now get away from Ry before I remove you myself.”
Elise backs away, glaring.
The dark haired woman stops at the bottom of the stairs, staring expectantly at Elise.
“Disappear.”
I’m disappointed when she does.
“Thanks, Freedom,” Ryan says, walking up to the woman to give her a hug.
It doesn’t bother me the way Elise’s hands on him did. My veins don’t run hot, my hands itching for a fight. For a knife.
“No problem,” Freedom tells him warmly. “Your brother would never want to see you around a girl like Elise and neither do I. But what are you doing here? You’re not fighting tonight are you?”
“No, I got called in to see the Boss.”
Freedom looks at him long and hard. “That’s never good.”
Ryan shrugs. It looks stiff. “I think he just wants to talk about the fights I was in recently. I’m not signing on with him. Don’t worry.”
“Anytime anyone goes in to see the Boss, I always worry. Be careful, alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Freedom!”
She closes her eyes briefly. I imagine her counting to ten in her head. When she opens them, she turns to face a tall, shirtless bald guy stalking toward her.
“What do you want, Dante?”
“Are you seriously giving me attitude right now? You’re supposed to be in the Arena at the table full of Westies. The other girls are already there but they’re asking for you.”
Freedom rolls her eyes at this hulking man covered in tats, towering at least six inches over her. “Why are you even doing business with them? I told you, they’re idiots.”
“Idiots with deep pockets. Get in there.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Freedom, I’m not dealing with you tonight. Get in there now.”
I hold my breath as I watch his hands, worried he’ll hit her soon. I’ve seen women treated worse than that and this one is pushing the limits. Inside, I’m begging her to just go.
“Dante,” she says quietly, her accent becoming more pronounced. Less sweet. “If you tell me to get in there one more time, I will cut you. Do you understand me? I will cut you so deep your grandma in the grave will feel it. Now, I said I’ll be there in a minute and I meant it.”
Dante shakes his head, a harsh breath coming out his nose, but I see his mouth twitch at the corners. “One minute.”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“You’re insane.”
“Get out of here.”
He turns to leave, shouting over his shoulder, “Fifty seconds!”
“Unbelievable,” Freedom mutters. She turns to Ryan. “You better get to that meeting. You know where to go?”
“Yeah, unfortunately.”
She pats him affectionately on the shoulder as she steps past him. “You need anything, you come find me, alright?”
“Thanks, Freedom.”
“Thirty seconds!”
“Oh, Grandma Jean is gonna be in a world of hurt, I swear to you!” Freedom shouts as she saunters off in the direction Dante is disappearing.
Ryan looks at me, his face tense. “You could wait out here. Trent could stay with you.”
“You shouldn’t go in there alone,” Trent tells him.
“She can’t stay out here alone.”
“So she won’t stay out here at all,” I snap.
I’m grateful for the rage I felt toward Elise. The excitement at the idea of dismantling her has chased the shakes away. I don’t feel any braver, but I’m not outwardly pissing myself in fear either. Progress.