Page 31

I take a deep breath and face forward again. “Where are we?”
Clothes hang from mannequins in store shop windows. The style is street chic, I guess it could be called. I look up and down the sidewalk we’re standing on and am struck by how busy it is. Well, comparatively. Instantly, I know we’re not in the Heights. There’s too many people walking around in business attire like they’ve just walked out of their places of employment. People don’t dress like that in the Heights. At least not many.
“Pampering my girl,” Johnny says. He holds the door to the store open for me. When the workers see him, their eyes round and they come right over, calling him Sir and Mister even though they never say a last name to go along with it. “This is Kyla,” he tells them, gripping my shoulders. “She can have whatever she wants.”
I blink up at him. “What?”
He takes my face in his palms. “You’re my girl now, Kyla.” His eyes are bright, almost glittery with excitement. “You can have everything your heart desires.”
I swallow as he brings my hand up to place a kiss on my knuckles, then he passes my hand to one of the women waiting. I look behind my shoulder as I’m dragged away. The girl titters next to me. She’s practically blushing and tripping over herself. She breathes out dreamily like she just saw her favorite actor and wants to melt into a puddle. In the next instant, she’s shaking her head like she needs to clear her mind. “Let’s get you started. I’m Lynette. That’s Ryn. And that’s Glo.”
I give a half-hearted wave to them all. This is the last place I thought I’d find myself in today. I look back to find Johnny taking a seat on a pure white couch in the front area, his arms outstretched over the back cushions like he owns the place. Who knows? Maybe he does. Maybe this is another front for the Crew.
There’s so much I need to learn.
A bottle of water in hand, Magnum strides through the front door. He brings it over to me, gaze on the floor.
I breathe out. “Thanks.”
“God, you must be thrilled,” the girl who Lynette called Glo says. A wishful sigh pushes past her pouty hot pink lips.
“I’m—” I stare at them. I don’t know how to react. This is more than anything I thought would happen. Listen, I’m not immune to clothes. I love clothes. I love girly shit. Just because I like to fight doesn’t mean I can’t do my hair and makeup the next day and still feel as powerful as when I’m slamming someone twice my size into the mats. It’s just I’ve never given into that side of me before. I’ve always been focused on the plan. “I don’t know what to think,” I say honestly. I take a drink from the bottle Magnum got me. The crisp, cool water slides down my throat, cooling off my suddenly flush skin. Afterward, I hold the bottle to my head. It was a mistake not to ice my face last night.
The girls giggle all the way to the back corner. When we arrive, they split off, gathering up different outfits for me after asking what my sizes are. I hardly know. When I was at my aunt and uncle’s, I had to wear a uniform to school, so I didn’t have many other clothes. I had jeans and shirts for lazy days and fancy dresses for when I was forced to attend parties. I’ve grown up since I’ve taken control of my life. The clothes I have on were all bought from Walmart, much to my aunt’s distaste, but I refused to be even more of an expense for them.
It strikes me then that I’ve never picked out new clothes I’ve actually wanted for myself. My parents did it when I was a kid, and after that, my aunt handed over the credit card while I chose whatever was cheapest. I didn’t have much of a choice in anything because I declined to take pleasure in it.
With that thought, I go to the closest rack and pull out a couple of things that catch my eye.
After about twenty minutes, I’m taken to the side of the store, the girls still smiling and laughing next to me. They’ve pulled out many more outfits than I have, some of them gaudy and ridiculous. They take me into a dressing room surrounded by mirrors and hang up all the different outfits. I’m literally in a sea of colorful, revealing, tight-fitting clothes. It blows my mind to see all of them here.
Lynette’s gaze looks around the room and then she nods. “We’ll be right out there if you need our opinion on anything. Rocket is through that curtain,” she says, pointing to a different way out of the room. She winks at me. “If you want him to see anything.”
I smile, the feeling awkward, but a warmth worms through me anyway despite knowing who I’m here with. When they leave the room, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and just shake my head at myself. Last night and into today has been a whirlwind. I can’t imagine what I would be feeling if I was actually a girl who wanted Johnny. Like one of the three outside the curtain right now who are all whispering and laughing with one another about how hot the gangster is.
Because that’s what he is. A gangster. I can’t forget that important fact.
I try on a bunch of different outfits. Some of them I put right back on the hangers and move them to the side. They’re just not me. They’re not anything I would wear in a million years. All the while, I make sure I’m focused on what I can move well in. Or outfits I can hide shit in. In this life, I’ll never know what’s going to come at me, so I need to be ready for anything. I can’t be wearing anything too skimpy that I can barely hide my private parts let alone a weapon.
The more and more I try on, the guiltier I feel. How am I going to pay for this? And I’m not talking money. By accepting these clothes, does that mean I’ll have to do something for Johnny? He told me his father ruled I was off-limits for now, but he also said he was an impatient man. I want to be off-limits. I want to have my own say in who I get naked with. Is this just a show? A way for him to get in my good graces, so I don’t notice how terrible he is and fall into bed with him?
I sit on the bench in the room, staring at me in a nice, new outfit. If it comes to it, I’ll have to sleep with Johnny. I don’t know why the realization’s hits me just then, but it hits me hard.
In order to keep up appearances, I’ll have to do things I don’t want to do. Things I wouldn’t do in a million years.
But the outcome will be worth it. Right? I can lose a little bit of myself to save my entire self. That has to be worth it.
In a heartbreaking moment, I wish I could leave. I wish none of this ever had to happen, but that isn’t my lot in life. If Johnny demands sex one day, I’ll crawl into the sheets and spread my legs because I’m “his girl” and being his girl gives me access to the real prize.
Taking back my life.
13
In the end, I come out of the dressing room with three outfits. I checked the tags on them first to make sure that they weren’t super expensive. When I walk out with just the three, Lynette and Glo gape at me. “That’s…all you want?” Lynette asks.
My heart clenches when I realize I’ve offended her, but how can I tell her accepting a bunch of clothes means I’m Johnny’s bitch? Hell, I’m already his bitch. I don’t need to press my luck. The only reason I’m taking three is because if I walk out of here with no clothes, Johnny will be the one who’s offended, and I don’t know how that will work out for me.
I’m distracted, so when I walk into the main area, I don’t immediately realize it’s just Magnum there, standing by the main door like he’s making sure no one else comes in. Beside me, the girls blush, but take my garments over to the marble-topped counter to ring them up. I stand in front of them like I know I’m supposed to, but I also have nothing to pay them with. Well, I do, but it’s all in an account I’m saving for when I have to escape overseas to get away from the mess I’ll be leaving in my wake.