"You look really cute tonight." She directs her attention to Joey. "Doesn't she look really cute tonight?"
"Uh, yeah," Joey responds, obviously confused and not wanting to be in the middle of whatever this is.
"Thanks," I reply shortly.
Tori is fierce. Not a physical threat like Nina. She and I are barely over five feet. But she has a temper and a vocabulary that makes grown men cower. And when she goes off, her long black curls whip around her head like a raging storm. Her neck flips from side to side, and a finger topped with a sharp nail is in the face of whoever she's telling off. Spanglish snaps from her tongue like a whip, leaving a guy looking for his balls and the most confident girl whimpering. It's like she verbally skins them alive. I've only been on the other end of that Latina finger twice. And neither time ended well.
I watch her hand now, waiting. She keeps it resting on my ankle.
"You should know she's my best friend, Joey." She sounds like one of the guys from the Godfather before he pulls out a gun and blows the head off of whoever's across the table from him.
"I do know that," Joey replies carefully.
"Then you should know I'm really protective of my friends. Especially my best friend."
He nods. My eyes narrow. I don't get it. Where's this coming from?
"And being with my best friend is earned." Tori stares him down. I reach for her hand before she can point the finger. "She's not a prize that lands on your lap. Got it?"
"Of course," he replies, unable to look away from her blazing brown eyes.
"Um, can I talk to you a minute?" I request, squeezing Tori's hand.
She blinks away from Joey and looks to me with a brilliant smile. "Yeah, sure."
I open the door and ease off Joey's lap. Joey moves to get out, and Tori presses her hand into his chest, pushing him back against the seat.
"I got it," she says, crawling around him. She steps out and shuts the door in his face.
"What's up with you? Why are you acting like this?" I ask as soon as we're alone.
"Why are you letting him touch you like that?" she demands. "Lana, that's not you."
"Hey! You're the one who has me sitting on his lap, and if you felt what I felt, you wouldn't be so judgy right now." I clamp my mouth shut, realizing how wrong that sounded.
"You're right. It's my fault," she admits, leaning back against the car with her arms crossed. "I set you up. I should have known you'd be an easy lay for him."
"Yeah, it is your fault! Wait ... what? Easy? I'm not easy," I say, completely offended. Then I notice the gleam in her eye. She's fucking with me. "You're a bitch, Tori."
"Just needed you to wake up and stop acting like a slut." Tori smiles and steps toward me, pulling me into a hug. "Remember, he's a dumbass guy. He has to deserve you first. You're not a trophy, Lana."
"Right," I reply, suffocated by her mane.
Tori and I made a pact when we were in fifth grade to always be honest and protect each other, no matter what. And then, in sixth grade, after a stupid argument over who could like Justin Walker, we added that no guy is worth fighting over. Ever. Joey Harrison included.
We're interrupted when the back door opens.
"Your phone beeped." Joey has it in his hand.
I take it from him. "Thanks." I pat my jacket pocket and find it open. Thankfully, the switchblade didn't fall out too.
I enter my passcode to read the text from my mother. Could you pick up some flu medicine while you're out?
The flu? I hesitate before responding. We both know this isn't the flu. But maybe she just needs something for the symptoms.
I type back, Okay.
Then I slip the phone back in my pocket and zip it up.
"Everything alright?" Joey asks, his brows drawn together in concern.
"Uh"--I force a smile--"I just need to pick up something for my mother. I'll be right back."
I can tell he's about to ask me a question, so I turn away quickly, leaving him standing outside the car, watching me walk away.
I pull open the grime-covered door and freeze after taking just three steps.
I stare at the small silver gun. I don't know what make it is, but it's one of those kinds where the barrel opens up, and the bullets are loaded one at a time. Holding the gun is a big guy wearing a black leather jacket with a scarf pulled up over his nose and a hoodie covering his head.
"What the hell are you doing in here?!" Vic yells at me.
I look from the gun to the skinny man with the bushy mustache behind the counter, his hands raised. I don't say anything.
The guy behind the counter anxiously flips his unblinking eyes between us. I look from him back to Vic. Vic shakes his head at me before focusing on the cashier.
"Hurry up!" Vic yells at the guy, who grabs cash from the register and shoves it across the counter. "And pull out a bunch of lottery tickets too!" Vic demands, forcing his voice to be deeper than it is. "Slowly!" he warns the man.
The cashier reaches his shaking hands to pull at the lottery tickets hanging on the wall behind the counter. He tears off a long string and offers them to Vic.
"Give them to her," Vic demands, waving the gun toward me.
"What?!" I yell. "I don't want anything to do with your dumbass robbery! I'm not touching them."
Vic aims the gun at my chest. "Take the fucking tickets."
I'm not nervous or scared. I'm more annoyed than anything. Why did I have to walk in on this dipwad robbing the convenience store? I bet he's going to walk away with barely two hundred dollars. He's such a fricken idiot.
"Fine." I snatch the trail of tickets from the clerk and fold them up, grumbling, "Asshole," under my breath. I shove them in my inside pocket. "Can we leave now?"
Vic stuffs the bills in his jacket pocket and starts walking backward, keeping the gun pointed at the cashier. I shove the door open and stomp to the car.
"Hurry up and get in the car!" Vic yells at me, hiding the gun in the back of his pants. He pulls down the scarf and shoves back the hood in one quick motion. He's opening the passenger door as I'm sliding back onto Joey's lap. "Drive. Now."
"What just happened?" Gary demands. He's the only one who seems to have noticed our odd exit.
"Nothing," Vic replies, agitated. "Just fucking drive." He looks at me over his shoulder.
I want to punch him in the face. He's beyond stupid! I cross my arms and lean back against the arm Joey has loosely draped around me. I stare Vic down, imagining my hands wrapped around his throat, strangling him.
"Lana, what happened?" Tori asks, easily picking up on my hostile mood.
I don't take my eyes off the contagion that is Vic. I'm certain disdain is written all over my face as I silently curse him with a thousand deaths. I'm not even trying to hide it. But I know, if I say something, everything will go to shit.
"Nothing," Vic snaps.
I don't say a word.
Chapter Six
"Lana, why did you punch the boy at school today?" my grandmother asks.
"I didn't," I answer honestly.
"Who did?"
I scrape my foot on the floor, not looking up at her. "My friend."
"Why?"
"Because he was trying to lift up my skirt." My words are quiet.
"Why didn't you say anything when your teacher asked what happened?"
"Because I didn't want her to get in trouble."
"But you told me."
I look up, suddenly afraid. "Is she in trouble?"
My grandmother sighs. "No. I would have punched him too."
After driving maybe five minutes, two cop cars fly by with their lights flashing. I twist around to follow them, my heart racing. When I turn back, Vic is glaring at me.
"Fuck off," I tell him.
Tori and Lincoln look between us and then at each other. Joey's arm circles me protectively.
"Vic, did something happen at the store?" Lincoln asks cautiously.
I'm not sure how well the two o
f them know each other. But since Joey's not saying anything, Lincoln must feel the need to step up.
"No," Vic grunts.
"Then let me have a cigarette," Gary demands. "You guys are driving me crazy."
Vic remains silent.
"Where are the cigarettes you bought, Vic?" Tori demands, tossing a suspicious look my way before sharing a silent exchange with Lincoln.
"They didn't have my brand," Vic grumbles, his attention directed out the window.
I clench my fists, fighting the urge to scream. This asshat is about to ruin my life, and I need him gone. Now.
"We need to ditch him at the party," I tell Joey, only because his ear is right next to my mouth and Tori's too far away.
"Why?" Joey asks.
I can only shake my head, afraid to say too much and have Vic overhear. As much as I'm not afraid of the douche, he does have a gun. And he's obviously stupid enough to hold up a convenience store with it. He's probably dumb enough to use it too. As much as my life blows, I'm not looking to die tonight.
Everyone knows something's up. The tension in the car is as thick as Gary's neck ... which is a tree trunk. Tori keeps staring at the back of Vic's head like she's waiting for him to make a move. Nina starts messing with the music. She may act unfazed, but she'd willingly push him out of the moving car if it came to it.
Lincoln's fighting to remain calm with his hands pressed against his thighs. But the tendons straining in his neck give away just how close he is to losing it.
The only one who seems oddly relaxed is Joey, whose hand has found the skin along my waistband again. Obviously something very wrong is going on, and he hasn't reacted even a little. He's either oblivious or he's brilliant at the whole calm-under-pressure thing.
I'm stiff against him, his touch unable to soothe the tension.
"Can I have the bottle?" I ask Nina.
She slides around and hands me a different bottle of something darker, passing it off with a wink. She's trying to keep me relaxed too. Except I'm not. When I reach for the bottle, my hand is shaking. I resist the urge to crash it over Vic's asinine head.
I swallow down the cinnamon-flavored whiskey until it sends me into a coughing fit. Then I pass the bottle back.
"Someone needs to tell me what the fuck is going on right now, or I'm pulling over and dumping your asses on the side of the road!" Gary bellows over the music, making me flinch.
Joey's grip tightens on my waist.
"No you're not." Vic's voice is low and threatening, like an approaching storm. "Keep driving."
"What did you just say, you little fuck?" Gary's face is redder than raw hamburger, and his skin doesn't look much better.
"Easy, baby," Nina murmurs seductively in his ear.
I shudder when she soothingly runs her hand along the stubble coating the folds of his triple chin.
Joey pulls me back against him. "Don't worry about them." His voice melts me against his hard chest.
I nuzzle into his neck so it looks like I'm kissing him. "How well do you know Vic?"
Joey turns toward me, brushing his fingers along my cheek, our mouths almost touching. His breath tickles as he says, "We're not exactly friends. I told my dad I'd take him out, as a favor."
He pauses and smooths a thumb over my lower lip. Despite this crazy-ass situation, I'm actually getting turned on right now. What is wrong with me?!
"It's ... complicated. Why? Did he do something?"
I breathe out slowly, unable to respond.
"Forget about him." He leans in until our lips brush, and I quiver.
"You're fogging up the car," Tori stretches over and says so close, she could join us.
Joey pulls away.
"Tori!" I exclaim, glaring at her.
Tori smirks and sits back again.
I glance behind us, expecting lights to appear at any second. They don't. Or not yet anyway.
"Vic, tell me what you did!" Lincoln suddenly yells, slamming his palm on Vic's headrest.
I jump and Joey presses me against him. He opens his mouth to say something to Lincoln, but then closes it wordlessly.
"I'm sick of your shit. I'm not going down for whatever the fuck you just did! So talk. Now."
I've never heard Lincoln raise his voice before. He's always so calm and put together. But I guess everyone has their limit. And Lincoln's sword is drawn. It's pretty impressive. Tori must think so too because she gives him a once-over with a raised brow.
Vic turns abruptly, leaning over the seat. "Everyone needs to calm the fuck down! Okay? Nothing happened. When Lana walked in, I was yelling at the clerk. He was trying to sell me this shit brand of cigarettes because he didn't have what I wanted. Wouldn't shut up about how they're all the same, and that they'll kill me. I wasn't up for the lecture, so I told him to go fuck himself. When Lana came in, I grabbed her and told her we were leaving. That's why she's acting like she has something stuck up her ass." He directs his attention to me. "Sorry I touched you, okay? Will you just fucking relax?"
Oh, I want to kick him in the face. And I could too, easily, since my foot is dangling off Joey's leg, right below Vic's chin. But before I can, he twists back around and returns to his angry, pouting posture.
"Little boy, you dropped your toy," Nina sings mockingly, displaying the gun on her flat palm.
Just as Vic grabs for it, she flips it in her hand and points it at his forehead.
"Nina!" Tori calls out.
But Nina doesn't react. Her full attention is pinned on Vic.
"You don't know what the fuck you're doing," Vic challenges her.
Nina cocks the hammer.
No one moves. I don't even think we're breathing. Gary may be screaming. But I can't hear him. The entire world is on mute. I'm staring at the silver muzzle indenting the flesh on Vic's skull.
"How do you know it's loaded?" Vic questions, sounding way too cocky for a guy who might have his brains splattered against the window at any second.
"I don't. But you do," she says, her shiny red lips parting to reveal a big white smile.
"You know I could take that from you, right?"
Nina just smirks wickedly. I grimace with a silent groan. Vic better shut his mouth. He has no idea who he's talking to.
Nina's a fighter. I'm convinced she came into the world that way so she could survive the shit she's been dealt her entire life. She may look super girlie and have a figure to die for, but she's ferocious. Without hesitation, she's had my back in a fight more times than I can count. Even when I'm the one who started it.
So I know, if Vic makes a move, I'm going to want to block my ears.
The car stops. At least it doesn't feel like we're moving anymore. I'm afraid to look away to find out.
"Nina, honey, would you please put down the gun?" Gary asks her so gently, it doesn't even sound like him.
My eyes remain glued to the point where the gun is attached to Vic's head. His jaw tenses. Nina smiles wider, a menacing glint in her dark eyes.
"What did you do in the store?" Nina asks calmly.
Vic swallows. "Nothing. Ask Lana."
"I'm not asking her. I'm asking you. She's a sweet girl, and she shouldn't be involved in this. She might actually go to college. I'm not fucking with that. I'm not going to let you fuck with that either. So, one more time. What did you do in that convenience store?"
Vic sneers. "Nothing."
"Okay, I'm going to shit myself if you don't put down the gun, Nina! Please!" Gary whimpers.
I steal a glance his way. Beads of sweat are covering his forehead and streaking down the sides of his face. He may even be crying. My nose scrunches in disgust. I know this is intense, but ... really?
"Fine," Nina huffs and tips the gun back, easing the hammer in place.
The entire car exhales.
"Give me my gun," Vic demands, holding out his hand.
Nina laughs. "Uh. No."
"Get out!" Gary screams. "Get out of my car! Now!" He opens his door.
The next thing I know, my door is open and he's yanking me out.
"Hey!" I holler, trying to pull my arm out of his clammy grip.
"All of you, out! I'm not putting up with this shit!"
I yank free, but the force of the motion sends me tripping over my four-inch wedges, and I topple onto my ass. Joey is out a second later, followed by Tori, both of them in Gary's face. The finger is out, and Spanish flies from Tori's mouth.
"Keep your hands off her!" Joey yells, practically bumping against Gary's gut. He's taller than Gary by a few inches, but Gary wins with three times the girth.
A large black hand is in my face. I look up. It takes me a couple seconds to realize that Lincoln is offering to help me up.
"Thanks."
His hand completely swallows mine as he lifts me off the ground. I swipe at the dirt on my butt, still watching the three go at it. It's all words. Nothing about their posture has me concerned that someone's about to swing.
We're in the middle of nowhere. There's maybe a streetlight every quarter mile on this forgotten road, lighting it just enough to make it creepy. Gary pulled off into one of those gravel turnouts on the side of the road--the ideal location when you're desperate to relieve your bladder or throw your door open just in time to vomit. So not the ideal location to be dumped with a psycho and his gun.
"Where's Nina and Vic?" I ask in a rush, frantically searching the darkness.
"I don't know," Lincoln answers, his voice as concerned as mine.
We creep toward the front of the car. Nina's back is to us. She's leaning against the fender on the other side of the car. Vic is in his signature angry stance, scowling at her.
Nina has the barrel of the gun open and is throwing bullets at Vic.
"Tell me what you did, Vic," she says in a taunting tone. "C'mon. You want your toy back, don't you?"
Vic grunts something.
"Then tell me. Quit being a bitch." There's a sadistic lilt in Nina's voice, like she's enjoying this.
She's starting to scare me a little. I put a big star on that mental note I already had, reminding me to never piss her off.
Vic bares his teeth. "Give me my gun, or I'm going to--"
"To what?" Lincoln challenges, straightening a few inches taller, like he might jump over the car.
Vic looks up and spots us across the hood. Nina snaps the barrel shut with a flick of her wrist and stuffs the gun into her purse.