he turns the engine over, and Charlie relaxes back
against the soft interior, and listens to the soft murmur of the radio as he
pulls out of the house on the edge of the bayou and heads into the city.
*
Ella Jane knows exactly where they're going. She'd been watching
Jacobs when Charlie asked her question, and had seen the flash of amused pride.
Sometimes, she hated Jacobs for how much he underestimated her. But tonight
isn't the time to worry about that, so she shoves the thought aside and holds
the silence he always prefers, and taps a finger on her thigh in silence.
Charlie is a tense presence behind her, all quiet stares and
anxious twitches. There is a tiny part of her that wants to reassure her friend
that this is normal. That Jacobs fucking her is just another play in their
endless game--but a bigger part, the part that made her someone to be feared
when she was growing up, relishes her friend's unease.
Charlie is so rarely thrown off her game. Even now, with a body
count and hiding from the family that dotes on her, she's been in her element,
fucking her way through the prettier frat boys in the city, and holding Jacobs’
interest.
Being off balance for five fucking minutes won't hurt her.
The restaurant is quiet--almost too quiet, given that it's a
Friday night. She eyes it as Jacobs slides the Nova into an alley alongside it.
The bartender is sitting on the stoop, smoking with Josh, and his
eyes flick over them, widening slightly when EJ and Charlie emerge at Jacobs’
side.
"Go inside," Jacobs says, stepping between EJ and Josh,
and a smirk, tiny and self-satisfied, slips across her lips. Without a word,
she turns on her heel and pulls Charlie with her to the entrance of the bar.
"Let's let the boys talk, darling," she says.
The bartender's grin is still there, and it reads just as warm, if
a little worried. "You girls are still here," he says, reaching for a
bottle. "It's a vodka tonic and whiskey sour, right?"
Charlie nods, and props her elbows on the counter, leaning forward
slightly. "You sound surprised."
"Pretty good at reading people, sweetheart," he says,
adding a lime wedge to the vodka tonic. He slides it across the bar to EJ and
shrugs. "You two are keeping heavier company than I expected, that's
all." His smile turns worried for an instant, and then he laughs.
"But, hell. Maybe it makes all the sense in the world."
He doesn't say anything more than that as he finishes the drink,
and slides it to Charlie. She reaches for her wallet, a halfhearted gesture,
and he shakes his head, "On the house, gorgeous."
"Noah!" a voice shouts from the back of the restaurant,
and his head lifts, tilting to the side. "Be right back."
Then he’s gone and the girls are left with their drinks, and the
awkwardness that is everything that happened last night. Charlie swirls her
drink, the ice clinking and says, quietly, “Are you mad?”
For the space of a heartbeat, EJ considers playing dumb. She’s
good at it, after a lifetime of practice. But then Charlie meets her gaze,
bright eyes demanding, and she shrugs.
“Why would I be mad that you fucked him, Charlie?”
She flinches, and takes a hasty swallow of her drink. “You won’t
tell me shit about him, and you called him to help with Tre, and—“
“Shut the fuck up,” EJ hisses, throwing a quick, worried look
around. She grabs Charlie by the arm, yanking her friend closer as she hisses
in her ear. “Don’t mention that. Ever. It’s over, and it’s going to stay over
and if you bring it up where he can hear you, he might decide you’re next just
so it doesn’t blow back on him. The bastard is ruthless.”
Charlie’s eyes go wide, and she nods, watching EJ carefully until
she sits back. With a sigh, she shoves her curls over her shoulder and reaches
for her drink.
“Just—be careful. Now isn’t the time to start being stupid.”
There’s a long pause, and then, quietly, “Are you scared of him?”
“Yes,” she answers
against the soft interior, and listens to the soft murmur of the radio as he
pulls out of the house on the edge of the bayou and heads into the city.
*
Ella Jane knows exactly where they're going. She'd been watching
Jacobs when Charlie asked her question, and had seen the flash of amused pride.
Sometimes, she hated Jacobs for how much he underestimated her. But tonight
isn't the time to worry about that, so she shoves the thought aside and holds
the silence he always prefers, and taps a finger on her thigh in silence.
Charlie is a tense presence behind her, all quiet stares and
anxious twitches. There is a tiny part of her that wants to reassure her friend
that this is normal. That Jacobs fucking her is just another play in their
endless game--but a bigger part, the part that made her someone to be feared
when she was growing up, relishes her friend's unease.
Charlie is so rarely thrown off her game. Even now, with a body
count and hiding from the family that dotes on her, she's been in her element,
fucking her way through the prettier frat boys in the city, and holding Jacobs’
interest.
Being off balance for five fucking minutes won't hurt her.
The restaurant is quiet--almost too quiet, given that it's a
Friday night. She eyes it as Jacobs slides the Nova into an alley alongside it.
The bartender is sitting on the stoop, smoking with Josh, and his
eyes flick over them, widening slightly when EJ and Charlie emerge at Jacobs’
side.
"Go inside," Jacobs says, stepping between EJ and Josh,
and a smirk, tiny and self-satisfied, slips across her lips. Without a word,
she turns on her heel and pulls Charlie with her to the entrance of the bar.
"Let's let the boys talk, darling," she says.
The bartender's grin is still there, and it reads just as warm, if
a little worried. "You girls are still here," he says, reaching for a
bottle. "It's a vodka tonic and whiskey sour, right?"
Charlie nods, and props her elbows on the counter, leaning forward
slightly. "You sound surprised."
"Pretty good at reading people, sweetheart," he says,
adding a lime wedge to the vodka tonic. He slides it across the bar to EJ and
shrugs. "You two are keeping heavier company than I expected, that's
all." His smile turns worried for an instant, and then he laughs.
"But, hell. Maybe it makes all the sense in the world."
He doesn't say anything more than that as he finishes the drink,
and slides it to Charlie. She reaches for her wallet, a halfhearted gesture,
and he shakes his head, "On the house, gorgeous."
"Noah!" a voice shouts from the back of the restaurant,
and his head lifts, tilting to the side. "Be right back."
Then he’s gone and the girls are left with their drinks, and the
awkwardness that is everything that happened last night. Charlie swirls her
drink, the ice clinking and says, quietly, “Are you mad?”
For the space of a heartbeat, EJ considers playing dumb. She’s
good at it, after a lifetime of practice. But then Charlie meets her gaze,
bright eyes demanding, and she shrugs.
“Why would I be mad that you fucked him, Charlie?”
She flinches, and takes a hasty swallow of her drink. “You won’t
tell me shit about him, and you called him to help with Tre, and—“
“Shut the fuck up,” EJ hisses, throwing a quick, worried look
around. She grabs Charlie by the arm, yanking her friend closer as she hisses
in her ear. “Don’t mention that. Ever. It’s over, and it’s going to stay over
and if you bring it up where he can hear you, he might decide you’re next just
so it doesn’t blow back on him. The bastard is ruthless.”
Charlie’s eyes go wide, and she nods, watching EJ carefully until
she sits back. With a sigh, she shoves her curls over her shoulder and reaches
for her drink.
“Just—be careful. Now isn’t the time to start being stupid.”
There’s a long pause, and then, quietly, “Are you scared of him?”
“Yes,” she answers
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