Tarnished by Kate Jarvik Birch Page B

to act like you’re supposed to be here.”
    I scooted away.
    “There it is.” She stopped and jutted her chin toward the red brick building in front of us.
    “That’s it?” I didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but it didn’t look at all like what I was expecting. I had imagined a dark building underground. I imagined tunnels. But this just looked so…ordinary. It didn’t look any different from the other buildings around it: a three story, red brick building with a few boarded up windows on the top floor and a bit of old peeling paint that must have advertised some old store that closed up years and years ago.
    “What did you expect? A big sign with your face on it?” Missy laughed at her own joke. “It’s a black market. You’re not supposed to know it’s here.”
    Missy turned to face me. She frowned, obviously not impressed with what she saw. “Don’t say anything when we get in there,” she said. She licked her finger and drew it underneath my eyes, rubbing in the makeup that must have smudged my skin. She raked a few fingers through my hair and sighed. “And wipe that stupid deer-in-the-headlights look off your face. It’s just screaming for someone to take advantage of you.”
    I clenched my jaw, trying to fake a tough look as well as I knew how.
    I followed Missy past the front door and paused, waiting for her to enter, but she kept walking, rounding the building to a side alley.
    “Nobody uses the front door,” she said, climbing the steps to a small blue door on the side. Further down the alley, a big white truck was backed up against the dock of the building. Was it loading something? Girls?
    The blue door squeaked open and I followed Missy inside a dark hallway.
    “Stay behind me,” she ordered.
    Look tough, I told myself, stepping behind her. I raised my chin even though it felt so much more natural to cast my eyes down to the ground. I was good at being meek and submissive. It’s what I’d been trained to do. How was I supposed to rewire sixteen years of training?
    Missy stopped at the third door. She paused and for a second her hand fluttered to her stomach. It was a small motion, but I saw the fear in it.
    She would never want me to notice this small gesture of weakness, but I did.
    With a slow, deep breath, Missy knocked on the door.

Chapter Five
     
    “ D oor’s open,” a man’s voice called from inside.
    Missy squared her shoulders and turned the handle.
    The room was small. A man sat behind a big wooden desk picking at his teeth with a letter opener. He wasn’t a huge man, but his sharp features and jet-black hair made him appear to take up more room than he really did.
    He looked up when we walked in. “Ahh.” He smiled, showing long white teeth. “Look what the cat dragged back in.”
    Missy stepped one foot into the room. “Sorry to intrude, Tony,” she said.
    “No worries,” he said, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on his desk. “I’m always happy to see your pretty face, doll.”
    Missy turned slightly and grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me forward.
    A smile cut across the man’s face. “And she comes bearing gifts…”
    “We just need work for a day or two,” Missy said. “A couple gigs.”
    His eyes traveled down the length of me. “I don’t remember you. Have we had you on the Buffalo books before?” he asked.
    I opened my mouth, unsure how to answer. I turned to Missy.
    “She hasn’t been here,” she answered curtly.
    “But you have papers?”
    Missy swallowed. “No.”
    The smile slipped from his face. “Then I can’t use her. No papers saying she’s free, no gig. But you’re welcome to stay. I’ve got a job you’ll be perfect for tonight.”
    “If I stay, she can stay with me,” Missy said, “right?”
    He frowned and he uncrossed his feet, lowering them slowly to the ground before he leaned forward on his elbows. “You get some papers for her and she can stay.”
    Missy shook her head. “I told you, she