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“So much testosterone,” Glo says.
“Trust me, it’s fucking everywhere,” I tell her. She has no idea.
She makes a face and then looks around Johnny’s digs. Her lips part slightly like she’s stepped into Buckingham Palace, but Johnny certainly isn’t royalty.
“Let me guess,” I start. “Johnny asked you to bring by some clothes.”
She drops the bags to the floor and turns. I’m barely paying attention when she does. I’m staring at the bags of clothes like I’d rather do anything than go through the girly shit Glo has picked out for me. Or even Lynette. There probably isn’t a single outfit I want to wear in there.
When a clicking noise interrupts the silence, I peer up at Glo. Her face is twisted into a mask of fury, and her bright pink nails clasp onto a small, silver handgun pointed right at my face. I gasp, and her gaze drops to the gun, stunned. I don’t give her a chance to try to get another shot off. I run forward, slamming my shoulder into her side to tackle the bitch.
“You cunt!” Her scream pierces the air loud and clear as I wrestle her to the ground.
I reach for the gun. Her finger is still against the trigger. Her long ass nails capturing it there. I finally grab hold of it and rip it away from her. She cries out, her fake nail tearing off with it. A sound of fury bursts past her lips and with a sudden motion, she knocks me to the side, and the gun slips from my grip. We both scramble for it. I’m trying to push it away from her, and she’s trying to grab it. She must think it was a fluke that it didn’t go off the first time.
I don’t want to find out if it was.
Instead of focusing on the gun, I elbow her in the face. This bitch tried to shoot me. I was five feet away from her. Even someone who hadn’t shot a gun before could have hit me at that range. Thank fuck it didn’t fire properly.
The door bursts open at the same time Glo pulls the end table on top of me. The lamp crashes to the floor next to my head. She screams in defeat as the guard I sent away hauls her to her feet, pinning her arms behind her body.She doesn’t have the gun, I realize. I breathe a sigh of relief.
More of K’s guys stream into the room. Shouts rise up, and before I can even think to slide the end table off me, Magnum’s doing just that, righting the table and helping me stand. In front of us, Glo sobs. Black streaks track down her face from beneath her sunglasses, which sit askew on her face from the scuffle. Her lip is split. A smear of blood mixes with her pink lipstick, ruining the whole effect she had going on. Instead of looking like a Barbie, she looks like…Well, she looks like an angry Barbie that got her ass handed to her.
“You okay?” Magnum asks.
I open my mouth to say something, but Johnny runs in, eyes wide. He sifts through the bodies in front of him, discarding them one by one until his gaze lands on me. “Fuck.” He runs over, grabbing me by the cheeks so hard it almost hurts. “Are you okay? What the fuck happened?”
Behind him, his father strolls in like he’s going for a Sunday drive. He’s dressed in a fancy black suit, and he certainly doesn’t have the disheveled look he was sporting yesterday after the shootout. There’s no blood on his immaculate clothing. Not one hair is out of place. He looks as calm as can be for having a gunman in his place. Or excuse me, a gunwoman.
I’m the opposite. Now that I’m not struggling for the gun, I shake uncontrollably. She legitimately just tried to end my life. Fucking Glo. From the fucking clothing shop. The one who looks like she knows more about fashion than even what fucking day it is. Why could she possibly want to kill me?
Johnny’s thumbs trace over my skin. Relief fills his crystal blue eyes when I look up at him. Maybe that’s why Johnny is so alluring. He’s so dark. His hair is dark. His aura. Everything except for his light blue eyes. It’s alarming how attractive he is, actually.
“What the fuck happened?”
My body locks up. My mouth snaps shut. I refuse to look over because I know that voice. I simultaneously want to fall to my knees in relief and kick the person who owns that voice in the nuts. He’s here, and he says that? Fuckingthat? Just like it’s any other day?
“Hey,” Johnny’s soft voice sounds, bringing me back around. I focus on his blue-eyed gaze before I fall apart. “You’re okay, right? Talk to me, babe.”
I nod slowly.
“Mag,” he says, calling his guard’s name like what he wants is implied, and it must be because Mag has no problem coming toward me, shielding me from everyone else while Johnny walks toward Glo.
“And who is this?” Big Daddy K asks in a monotone clip. Not upbeat or depressed, but somewhere in the middle where slick meets suave. After just fighting for my life moments ago, I don’t think that tone fits the situation at all. I much prefer Johnny’s pissy voice.
“This is Glo,” Johnny offers. With the thunderous look on his face and the growl in his voice, he’s the monster that hides in the closet. He’s Barbie’s worst nightmare. “She works at Lynette’s shop downtown.”
While they discuss what happened, awareness crawls over me. I refuse to look up to find the face I know is watching me right now. I’m not playing this game. I’m already on edge. If I see Oscar now, I’m going to lose it, and I can’t be fucking fragile Kyla. I have to be strong Kyla. I have to be the girl who kicked Evan’s ass and watched someone get murdered in cold blood right in front of her. I have to be the girl who survived being chased and shot at in a car while driving through the Heights. I have to be the girl who just fought her attacker and won.
Thisis who I am now.
Glo spits in Big Daddy K’s face.
It happens so fast, I don’t think anyone expected it. Even with everything else going through my head, I gasp in shock. That girl has some fucking lady balls on her—and a death wish. I should know.
“You piece of shit,” she barks. “My brother died last night because of you.”
Johnny nods as if he’s just put two and two together. “Her brother works at Dunnegan’s.”