Page 70 of Tainted Princess
“Step into my office. Let’s have a chat.” Vinnie beeped the key fob, causing the Ranger Rover’s lights to flash and the horn to sound. Sway’s eyes widened as I gestured for him to enter the back seat while Vinnie held open the door.
“Is this some sorta weird sex thing?” he asked warily, and I choked.
“Absolutely not.” What was it with Las Vegas and everyone propositioning me for sex? Although, in this instance, Sway was wondering if I was propositioning him. Either way, just...no. “I’m not looking to go to jail with you.”
“Yeah, alright,” he shrugged, then climbed in slowly, obviously still feeling the effects of his recent tackle.
I could totally relate.
Making my way to the other side of the vehicle, I climbed in beside him, watching as he ran his hands reverently over the leather, his eyes moving over everything he could see.
“It smells like a car commercial in here,” he said, and I smiled. “How much this set you back?”
“Enough.”
“Alright,” Sway sighed, leaning back against the seat and attempting to look confident, but the way he licked his lips repeatedly showed me he was not as brave as he wanted me to think he was. “So, if you ain’t got me in the back of this cherry ride to, you know, go for a ride,” he paused, gripping his crotch and I rolled my eyes, “why am I in the back seat ofyourcar and not a cop car?”
“How old are you, Sway?”
“Old enough.”
I frowned, pushing my sunglasses up onto my head, using them like a headband. I was not used to wearing my hair unbound, and it was frustrating, to say the least. “Sway, I am prepared to offer you an opportunity, and I would hate for you to miss that opportunity because your mouth got in your way. Now, I will ask again: how old are you?”
“Eighteen,” he chirped, and my frown deepened. “Fine,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his skinny chest. “Sixteen.”
“And why aren’t you in school?”
“School ain’t gonna pay the bills, is it?”
Eventually, it would, buteventuallywasn’t something kids like Sway were allowed to think about. Not when they were hungry now.
“And your parents?” At that question, Sway’s entire demeanor changed. He went from laid-back posturing to stiff and unwelcoming.
“They ain’t never paid the bills, neither.”
“You got a safe place to stay?” I continued, not wanting to linger on the topic he clearly didn’t want to discuss.
“I got foster parents that aren’t totally shit. They got four kids of their own, though, so, you know?” No, but I could imagine. Two people, trying to raise kids, make ends meet, stay sane. It didn’t leave much left over for things like emotional connection.
I watched him a moment longer, seeing through the bravado to the vulnerable kid underneath. The kid who just wanted to matter to someone.
“Sway, I’m new in town—”
“Yeah, no shit.”
I went on like he hadn’t spoken. “And because I’m new I am looking for someone to help me out. I think you could be that someone.”
He sat a little straighter, his curiosity winning over his attitude. “What you needing?”
“Information.”
“What, like, directions and shit?”
“No, Sway. I have Google for that.” I grinned at him, and he smirked back. Looked like our attitudes understood each other. “I am looking for the stuff that Google doesn’t know. The stuff that the cops don’t know. I’m looking for information that can make me some money, and in turn, I will make sure you get some.” I reached into my purse and withdrew some cash. Sway’s Pavlovian response was immediate.
“What can I tell you?”
“Nothing yet, Sway.” He frowned, seeing his opportunity to make a fast buck disappear. “But I have some stipulations that we’ll need to settle on before we agree to work together.”
