Page 100 of That Girl is Trouble

“The fuck happened?” I bark, pulling his face into my hands. “Graves? Hey, brother, wake up.”

Preacher runs a bloody hand through his hair and shakes his head. “Found him like this in the fucking parking lot. I’ll call Bex. She can… she can fix him up.”

Kat pushes between us and pulls up his blood-soaked shirt, revealing a mess of marks that look suspiciously like stab wounds. “Call an ambulance,” she cries, her expression a mix of panic and terror when she looks up at me. “I think… I think he’s dying.”

27

“You sure you know what you’re doing? This whole thing sounds a little… rape-y.”

With an eye roll, I steady my phone between my shoulder and my cheek as I rifle through my purse.

I’m in Vic Rossi’s driveway. If it could even be called a driveway. The thing took half a minute to drive down, and once I got past the tall iron gate circling the property, it just kept going. Right up until I got to the house. And Jesus Christ, the fucking house.

A white-brick goliath of a mansion, it sits deep in a covering of trees, overlooking a bottomless valley of thick forest. Windows line every side, and a large turret stands at the front, making the place look like it was plucked straight out of a Bond movie.

Vic Rossi has money. Far more than I imagine the owner of a small-town strip club should have.

“You sound like my sister,” I bite.

Jade sighs, the sound of it crackling down the line. “If by ‘sound like your sister,’ you mean the voice of reason, then sure, let me be your sister for a sec. Kat, this is a bad idea. Even you should know that.”

A flash of irritation heats my neck. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you tend to live a little on the reckless side, babe. It’s cute and all when we’re toying with boys and drinking cheap tequila, but this is dumb, even by your standards. I’ve talked to some of the girls who’ve worked these parties.” She’s silent for a heartbeat, and when she goes on, her voice is quieter. “These guys will expect a lot more than you shaking your ass against a pole. Unless your intent is to take a few dicks to make some extra cash, I suggest you get back into your car and get the hell out of there.”

“I won’t be fucking anyone for money,” I snap. “It’s just work. No different from any other night.”

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” Jade says. “Who’s gonna come to your rescue when one of these fucks won’t take no for an answer?”

“Look, it’ll be fine. I promise.”

Even as the words leave my mouth, a violent storm of nerves thrashes in my stomach. Every molecule in my body is telling me to leave, that Vic Rossi gives major my love language is date rape vibes. Being alone with him at any point is a seriously bad idea, but I can handle my own shit.

I’ve been alone since I was a kid. When my mom couldn’t feed me, I fed myself. When I was ten, and she couldn’t drive me to school because she was still too fucked up from the night before, I learned how to take the bus. Triss left, and I was alone. I figured it out. I handled it. This is just par for the course for me. If things get uncomfortable, I can get myself out of it.

I dig deeper in my purse as I continue my quest to locate my lip gloss, rummaging past a bottomless pit of receipts, tampons, and—

When my fingers graze it, I freeze. Hard metal, cool to the touch, a shiver up my spine. For some reason, when I packed up all my shit, readying for this poker game that I agreed to entertain for, the idea of having a gun just… made sense.

“What does your boyfriend think of all this?” she asks.

“Axe isn’t my boyfriend. And I didn’t tell him.”

Jade swears. “Drop me a pin so I know where to direct the police when you go missing. Text me every half hour, Kat, or I swear I’ll call up your not boyfriend and tell him exactly where you are. I imagine that wouldn’t go over all that well.”

“You don’t even have his number.”

“No, but I have your sister’s.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Scowling, I scoff and hang up the phone. I send her a pin to my location like she asked, and she responds with a thumbs-down emoji.

I’m about to shove my phone back into the pocket of my jacket when a text from Axe flashes at the top of my screen.

Axe: What you up to, Kitty?

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