Page 82 of Devoured

CHAPTER 23

Iris

I thought that being in the Greenhouse, in my old room, close to the servers, the closest thing I had to a real family, would make me feel better. But all it did was make my skin crawl with the knowledge that I was responsible for them now,trulyresponsible. And I had already screwed up in so many ways.

A server popped into my old bedroom. I lowered my hand, putting the eyeliner on the dresser.

“Where’s Roland?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Who knows.”

“He’s not in the surveillance room?”

I shook my head again. “Not when I left the apartment.”

“Is he at Vanish then?” I shrugged. “Well, where is he?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

She wasn’t the first one to ask that night. His lack of presence over the last couple of hours had made everyone concerned, like we were suddenly missing our protective pimp. It irritated me. This wasn’t his place. It never was, not really, anyway, and yet he had already made his impression on everyone. Including me.

“But why?” she asked cautiously. “You always know what’s going on.”

I grit my teeth, trying my hardest not to flip out. “He’s not on my radar anymore. And he shouldn’t be on yours either.” I closed my eyes. With less than an hour left until the club opened, the first night it was under my complete control, I figured now was as good of a time as any to tell them the truth. They all knew something was going on.

I opened my eyes slowly. The server was still there, gawking at me.

“Actually, could you do me a favor and call a meeting in the kitchen right now?” I asked.

“Of course, Mama Bear,” she said, then she pranced out of the room. I winced. The servers were going to be pissed when they found out that I had known this whole time that they were free, and I hadn’t said anything. And I wouldn’t have blamed them either. But with Roland gone, and ownership in my hands, I had to do something now. There was no more time to waste.

The servers made their way to the kitchen, some holding glasses full of brightly-colored mixed drinks, one with pink curlers in her hair, and Kendall with braids still tied tight all over her head. My chin bobbed as they came in. I pretended like there was imaginary music I was listening to, like I wasn’t nervous. I wished I had a pink box full of cupcakes to distract them from the news I was about to tell them.

After I did a headcount, I took a deep breath. I looked at their faces, each pair of bright eyes and closed lips, waiting for me to speak. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Looking good, Mama Bear,” one said, interrupting the silence.

I bit my tongue. How was I going to handle this?

“Two things,” I finally said. “First off, Roland is no longer here. I don’t know where he is, or what he’s planning to do. But I know that he left because he no longer owns the Dahlia District.”

A murmur circled through them, then rippled back to me.

“Then who does?”

“I do,” I said, holding a hand to my chest, willing my chin to stay still. To stay confident. To stop bobbing erratically. “I am the new owner of the Dahlia District.” My chest tightened, so I took a deep, full breath.

“Whoa.”

“For real?”

“You mean like, owner,owner?”

“What about Dahlia?”

“Are you joking with us?”

“You can set us free, then, right?”