“Nothing. You’re a pain in the butt, Daria.” Her laugh fills my ear. “Oh, you think it’s funny? Just so you know, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for Mom and Dad.”
“Whatever you say, warrior princess,” she sneers.
“Stop calling me that.”
No chance in hell.
She keeps yapping.
“Maybe that’s why nobody wants to pop that cherry of yours. They’re afraid a dagger might slip out of your pussy.”
Gritting my teeth, I clutch the phone and pull it to my lips.
“Do you want me to pick you up or not?” I growl through clenched teeth.
“Don’t be late,” she says, condescendence shooting from her voice. “I’m at Red’s.”
“What?? Why?”
The call drops and my questions fall into the ether.
Fucking bitch.
* * *
RAIN
I slipinto shorts and a white tank top that fits snugly across my chest, molding tightly on my flat stomach.
I don’t even consider wearing a bra since I'm convinced I’m not getting out of the car.
My fingers comb my hair back before I put my flip-flops on and rush out the door.
I stop by the wall table and search for my car keys before it hits me.
Shit. My car is in the shop.
I look around, groaning in agony and frustration.
Oh, no… I have to take my mom’s car, and that’s not good.
Anyone could easily spot her silver Mercedes, especially in the middle of the night on the well-lit streets downtown. But then again, I don’t expect any of her acquaintances to flock to Red’s.
I climb into her car, start the engine, and carefully steer it away, following the gravel road.
Half an hour later, I spot a parking spot in front of Red’s and claim it immediately.
Pure stupid luck.
The building looks somber in the darkness, the light above the entrance casting a glow over the letters embossed in dark red across the wall.
A few stairs connect the sidewalk to a massive metallic door.
I turn off the engine and wait.
Judging by the luxury rides crammed in the parking lot, the place must be packed.
Even so, the cars keep coming and dropping off patrons. Very few leave with clients.