Page 147 of Chaos Kills

The shit has me wishing I’d go deaf for at least an hour.

Techno. I hate techno.

I told Luisa I’d text her when I arrived; however, I want to scope the place out first to see if it’s worth my time before committing to seeing her. The last thing I need is to awkwardly leave while she’s wanting to either hang out or do whatever it is she thinks we’re going to spend time doing. My mission is to make as much money as I can with the least amount of bullshit tonight.

That’s what Shorty and Dino are for.

They’ve agreed to back off so dudes here aren’t intimidated to come up to me or make a sale. Since I’m a female, they’re going to want to flirt, get fucked up, and possibly hit on me before they fork over the cash.

I’m only interested in the latter.

The beige marble floors are spotless as I stride deeper into the party. It’s full of college kids like Luisa said, and everyonehas a red Solo cup in their hand. There is no makeshift dance floor, so everyone is doing whatever and wherever they want.

I’m just looking for a group of guys who might want to up their ante tonight.

I wasnotlooking for Nessa.

Swaying her hips seductively with a dude who’s at least five inches taller than her in heels, my—debatable, at this point—best friend handles herself like South Shore royalty.

She has guys staring at her from a few feet away. I know she feels their eyes because she amps up her game, and she’s out poaching tonight.

Rich boys equal thick wallets.

I had zero skillset in picking pockets, though I wish I had. It was always Nessa’s thing. She had fingers that were magic or something because no one knew any better. Not until they needed money or a credit card. Nessa always got away with it.

Except that one time in Walmart when she physically tried walking out with shit.

As if sensing me, she twirls around, and our eyes instantly connect.

I’m still pissed.

And underneath her long fake eyelashes, so is she. It’s written all over the small pinch of her brows and how she tripped up on the roll of her hips.

Ha.

Without a word to her dance buddy, she purposely strides over to me like she’s about to kick me out. There’s determination in those bedroom-brown eyes, but if she thinks I’m about to skip a fight, she picked the wrong bitch tonight.

“What are you doing here?” she fumes, stopping within swinging distance of me. “This isn’t?—”

“Isn’t what?” I challenge, because it’s time she sits on the other side of the equation when she’s not riding or dying with me. “My scene?”

She scoffs a bit, alluding that she doesn’t have a pot to piss in when we’re both not from around here. “Let me guess…you’re dealing?”

“And you’re pickpocketing.” Her shoulders lift. “Carry on, then.”

Those eyes of hers narrow a bit more at my silent dismissal. “Where’s your bodyguard?”

“I dunno.” She means Levi, but she’d need to be on my good side to gain that intel. And stop being so vague to try to get me to dish out information. “They’re somewhere around here.”

“They?” I begin to round her body, but her arm shoots out to stop me, careful not to touch me. She knows better when I’m in a mood. I get handsy. “There’s a card room in the back. You might score over there.”

I appreciate the heads-up, but I’m still not going to thank her for it.

Instead, I continue toward the back of the house and leave her to her devices. We’re not ready to talk yet, it’s obvious. I’m not sure if either one of us is going to be, but it was a small olive branch that it might happen.

I see a dude walk into a room to my right, giving me a small glimpse that there are others inside before he closes the door.

Card room in the back.

---