Page 25 of Stabby Little

“It'll be fine.” I shake off Sparrow's arm as I formulate my master plan. “If my STI results come back negative, I’ll head to the Little Bunny Club Saturday and pick up extra cash.”

That was the only requirement the club had. I needed to provide STI test results. They e-transferred me cash to send me a lab they recommended, so I biked over and got them yesterday. They drew blood and swabbed a few different parts of my body. I’ll wait two more days and then report the results to the Little Bunny Club. If everything’s golden, then I’m set.

“So youareheading to the club.” Sparrow issues me a supportive nod. “I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“It takes balls to put yourself in an unfamiliar situation. You don't know anyone there. It could go terribly wrong.”

Finn pinches the bridge of his nose. “We need to support Ollie. Not talk him out of it.”

“Exactly.” For the first time today, I agree with Finn. “I can only rob so many dudes in New York before the police catch me. This gig will buy us time.”

Finn tosses me a stuffed animal. “I'll apply next if it goes well. You're our guinea pig.”

I accept the stuffy and turn it over in my hands. It's a cartoonish hedgehog with googly eyes that light up when you squeeze it.

If I were an animal stuffy lover, this one would be perfect.

I had a favorite stuffy in the warehouse, but my captors stole it from me. They claimed it was for my own good, but I'm confident it was to prevent me from forming a close attachment. It's harder to control boys who have something to live for—even if it's only a stuffy.

It's the same reason they made one of my friends kill his pet turtle. No pets were allowed in the warehouse: they needed to instill fear in us.

“That's the spirit.” I toss the stuffy to Sparrow. “We're the hostesses with the mostesses. Only in this case, we're not hostesses, but escorts providing exclusive entertainment in private rooms.”

“I'm pretty sure mostesses isn't a word.”

“It's the plural form of most.”

“Still not a word.”

I sink into the stuffy pit and push the intrusive thoughts that well up in my brain to the wings. I focus on the stuffed animals pressing against my skin, rubbing me in places I'm not used to. I urge myself not to recall the sick things our captors did to us at gunpoint.

“You two should hunt down more of our clients while I go to the club.” I keep my voice firm to prevent anyone from overhearing me. The employee, a boy named Connor, is manning the ice cream station and he doesn't look uninterested in what we're discussing. The last thing we need is scrutiny. “You could make progress on our master plan.”

“What's our master plan again?” Sparrow drawls, picking at his cuticle.

I palm my forehead. “Track down the bastards who hurt us and teach them fatal lessons. Come on. It's not that difficult.”

Sparrow issues me a dirty look. “I have memory problems from the drugs the Diavolos made us take. Don't give me a hard time because I can't remember pointless details.”

“These aren't pointless details.” I recline in the stuffy pit. “This is the crux of our plan.”

Finn places his hand on Sparrow's shoulder. “Don't worry.” He pulls a capsule out of his onesie pocket. “I discovered the name of the drug our captors injected us with and ordered this treatment online.”

Sparrow checks out Finn's pill. “More drugs?” He makes a face. “I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole. I don't know what's in it. Besides, after last time, I'm leery about putting unknown chemicals in my body.”

“You're not leery about putting unknown dick in your body,” I drawl. It takes everything in me not to pat myself on the back. “Finn's mystery pills aren't worse.”

“You don't know what's in the pills.” Sparrow shoots me a dirty look. “It could be Molly. Adderall. Fentanyl. Drug manufacturers in South America are spiking everything with that shit.”

“That's the truth,” Finn concurs. “I read that online.”

I turn to Finn. “Where did you get the pill?”

“I sourced it on Reddit. A man who worked with human trafficking survivors told me that doctors frequently prescribe it to counteract the long-term effects of the drugs traffickers inject into their victims.”

“This man sold it to you?”

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