Page 54 of Heartless Heathens

I wanted to leave the spare, still not fully sure I understood the purpose of her being here. Not such luck. As I followed Frollo’s sheep into the tunnel, Reesa’s death grip on my bicep nearly punctured a hole in my skin.

“Let go,” I hissed out.

“I can’t see!”

“Then turn back around and go wait in the car if you’re scared. I’m not here to hold your hand.” Romina instantly let her grip on my forearm go with the words that were meant for the abrasive blonde.

I reached out to grab her wrist before she disappeared into the dark, knowing full well there were plenty of deviations and secret passageways in this underground cavern that could cause someone to lose themselves for days. And days down here undiscovered could cost you your life.

She gasped into the oblivion as my hand wrapped around her bony flesh, taking her by surprise.

“Not you, little lamb. Don’t want you getting lost down here,” I said, my face was close to hers but there was so little light in the tunnel, I still couldn’t make out her expression.

I didn’t need to. I could feel her pulse thundering in my grip.

I led her down the flight of stairs that appeared without warning and we made our descent underground. Reesa clutched the back of my shirt into a bundle in her hand and annoyingly followed behind until we reached the steel door that opened out to therealCourt of Miracles.

There were multiple entrances, but this one was the most accessible from where we were.

Neither of them could hide the starstruck look on their faces when I opened that door into the underground majesty of the court. A brilliant array of colorful lights hung above on the ceiling, draping the entirety of the canals in pseudo-starlight. Tents and pavilions were erected all throughout the concrete caverns with folks who not only sold their own handmade wares, but they could get nearly anything you wanted while bypassing The Nile’s distribution centers or using their own stock.

For them it was the principal, the ability to have control over what they were consuming. To not fold under the pressure of capitalism and the vice-grip that religion held it under, entwining one deeper into the other until you couldn’t separate them.

“Can I look around?” Reesa asked, her eyes getting bigger and bigger by the second.

“I won’t be responsible for you if you get lost, meet back here in an hour or Iwillleave without you,” I warned.

She went to grab Romina’s hand, but I swatted her away.

“She stays with me.” I wasn’t going to deal with the blowback of losing her.

She pouted but eventually resigned and pranced off to the nearest tattoo barrack. I herded Romina into Dera’s boutique.

“Corvy,” she cooed out and I immediately regretted my decision, but found myself too late to turn back.

Dera was decent enough. She’d made her way out here and set up a name for herself in the Court. She flipped her brown hair behind her shoulders and walked towards us. There was no way she was even seventeen, but the girl had hustle and you couldn’t deny her that.

“Dera,” I said flatly, pulling Romina in front of me almost like a shield.

“Who’s this?” she said, her voice pitching high up with surprise once her eyes had a chance to adjust to Romina’s unique appearance.

Unique didn’t really do it justice. I’d never seen anyone who looked like her before. That array of silver hair that blended perfectly with black streaks growing straight from her scalp. It had to be natural, not because I believed the girl really had been stuck in that belltower for eighteen years but because there hadn’t been anyone who colored people’s hair for a living in almost a decade.

Certain jobs were quickly phased out when the church deemed them irrelevant, unnecessary, and possibly influenced by Satan.

“Not your concern,” I told Dera, reminding her that if Sonny had been here she wouldn’t be so brave and asking questions so loosely.

“Apologies!” She chuckled nervously, raising her hands in the air while still shamelessly looking me up and down. “What can I do for you today Mr. Escura?” She put a touch of professionalism back into her tone as she smoothed her pencil skirt down.

“Get her some clothes that don’t have her stickin’ out so much while she’s standing next to me.” I pushed Romina in front of me and tossed the wad of cash at Dera, the dollar signs in her eyes glowing hard enough to keep her deaf, blind, and mute to whatever would go down here today.

I sat in a black velvet chair, scrolling mindlessly through my phone while she sorted through racks of black clothing, picking out what she thought would suit Romina best. I could hear her quiet murmurs anytime Dera asked her anything about the clothes she showed her, but either she didn’t care or the girl had never been given an option on anything in her life before.

“How does she look?” Dera asked, and I didn’t bother to lift my head up or steer my eyes from the screen of my phone to answer.

“Great,” I answered flatly and she scoffed in outrage.

“If you’re going to waste my time, you could at least pretend to give me an ounce of respect for it,” she said bravely, not hiding her annoyance.