Page 39 of Rev

“Yeah, my parents.” I smile at her and hike my purse higher onto my shoulder. “Need me to stay with you? Keep you company?”

She rubs her nose with her thumb, sighing. “Nah. I’m good. I got calls to make.”

I rub her arm again and head out.

Once home, I slump to the bed. “Now what?” I ask the walls.

As ever, I get no response.

* * *

Midnight,and I can’t sleep. I’ve spent the past three days scouring Vegas for employment. And other than jobs requiring me to take off my clothes, I get nothing. And heck no, I’m not taking off my clothes for money.

I sit up in bed, turn on the light. I could call Ana, but she’d just tell me to come home. I’m not ready for that, yet. I want to make my own life. I’m not ready to go back to the little town I grew up in, where all my memories are of Darren, and my boring but pleasant childhood.

No, I’m staying here. Why Vegas?

The answer is three letters, and rhymes with Lev.

Dumb, I know.

He’s made it clear he’s not interested in me.

One thing I’ve got going for me, though, is stubbornness. And that, I’ve got in spades. Dad always used to say I could out-stubborn a mule, if I got my back up about something. And I’ve decided I like Rev. He’s fascinating, and just the sound of his voice makes me wet and shaky. It’s not just my body’s physical reaction to him, though.

I want to know him. I’m curious. What makes him the way he is? I’ve never met anyone like him. So closed off, so taciturn. Does he have a sense of humor? Is there any gentility in him at all?

I need to know.

My body moves out of the bed, on autopilot, without my conscious commands. I find myself putting on my shortest, tightest shorts, a pair of slinky little navy-blue butt-huggers with white piping on the hems and waist; I usually only wear them alone in front of the TV, mainly because my butt cheeks hang out the bottom and I was raised to be modest. Yet, I shake and shimmy my big booty into the shorts anyway. There’s a top in my bag that I bought on a whim, which I’ve never had the gumption to actually wear. It’s a white sleeveless halter top, but the ends cup my breasts and wrap around my waist to tie in the back, leaving a huge gap down the center of my chest. You don’t wear a bra with it, and it leaves a lot of the insides of my breasts bared. And the outsides. And the bottoms.

Basically, it’s slutty.

But I look pretty danged nice in it, if I do say so myself. I own makeup, but I rarely wear it. Tonight, I do some mascara and a deep red lip. White Converse with colorful little doodles on them. Clutch with my phone and wallet and keys.

I don’t stop to ask what I’m doing, or why. I just go.

Straight to Sin.

Even at midnight, the line is hours long.

I park in the back and head for the back of the line. I hear a piercing whistle.

“Myka!” a deep, powerful voice calls—Kane, at the door, Si with him.

I turn and bypass the line, stopping in front of Kane. “Hi, Kane.”

“Back again, are you?” His face is open, grinning. “You’re a glutton for punishment, huh?”

Why can’t I be attracted tohim? He’s nice, he’s funny, he’s friendly.

“Guess so.” I sigh. “Actually, I’m here for another reason. I need a job.”

Kane’s eyes widen. “Uh, here? Not sure you’re a…um, good fit, babe.”

“I mean, like, bartending.”

“Oh.” He scratches his jaw. “We did just lose Haley. She kept getting wasted on the job.” He eyes me. “Got experience?”