Page 21 of Retaliation

Nina clutched her chest dramatically and stumbled backward as if fainting, only to snap back with an exaggerated silent scream. Poison couldn’t help but chuckle at her friend’s theatrics.

“So, how do I look?” she probed, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Ooh!” Nina’s voice pitched high in feigned surprise. “Scorpion won’t know what hit him tonight! You’re going to leave him speechless.” Her contagious and bright laughter filled the room.

The compliment sent a warm flush creeping over her cheeks, and she retreated behind the curtains, seeking refuge from Nina’s teasing gaze.

After slipping into her own clothes again, she walked with Nina toward the checkout. The Poseur, on his way to the changing room, jumped aside at the sight of her, making it clear he wanted no part in blocking her way.

Before she had a chance to dig out her wallet, Nina had already flashed her credit card to the cashier and paid for everything.

“Bish…” She stared at Nina in disbelief. “Cancel that transaction, now,” she ordered, but the girl behind the counter only continued chewing her.

She gave a shrug so laden with boredom; it was the most disinterested gesture Poison had ever witnessed before the clerk returned to staring at her phone.

It was just like Nina to do something like that. She couldn’t help but wonder why she always felt the need to pay when they were together. As if she felt responsible for her.

With her new outfit in hand, she stepped out of the store, feeling a twinge of guilt for letting Nina cover the bill again. They made their way through the crowded sidewalk, heading to where she had parked her bike.

Once they reached it, she unclipped her helmet from her backpack and swung her leg over it in one smooth motion. Nina pulled her into a tight hug, full of genuine warmth.

“Really, Nina, I can’t thank you enough. I owe you so much,” she said, and the words were about so much more than just the clothes.

Pulling her helmet over her head, she was grateful for the visor that hid her face—displaying emotions wasn’t something she was comfortable with. But she promised herself that she would find a way to repay Nina for everything. She just had no idea how.

“Hey, it’s nothing,” Nina insisted with a seriousness that did not tolerate argument.

She opened her mouth, wanting to insist, to protest, but Nina was quick to cut her off. “I mean it; don’t worry about it. What are friends for, right? Just make sure you have a great time tonight.”

“I will,” she replied, the bike’s engine rumbling to life beneath her. “Thanks, Neen,” she called out, then sped off, leaving Nina waving goodbye until she blended in with the rush of yellow taxis.

She entered her apartment lobby through the parking lot access door. The familiar scent of stale air and cleaning chemicals hung in the air and assaulted her senses and she sighed when she saw her landlord.

“Seriously, Vince,” she scoffed, spotting the burly man leaning against the front desk, his beady eyes tracking her every move. “This is the second time in one day. Don’t you have other tenants to stalk?”

“I would watch my tone if I were you, Missy,” he retorted, wagging a fat finger in her face. His breath smelled of cigars and cheap coffee. “But I have a message for you.”

She rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. “Well, luckily, for your sake, you’re not me. You’d have been dead already. But seeing as you’re taking my messages, why are you paying a doorman?”

Vince’s face twisted into a sneer as he studied her, his gaze lingering uncomfortably long. “What exactly is it that you do at night when you get back in the early morning hours?” His voice dripped with insinuation, a

slimy smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

She felt a wave of revulsion. “Vince, even if I was a prostitute, there isn’t enough money in the world for me to sleep with you.”

His smile widened, eyes gleaming with perverse delight. “Then why was there a Mister Thompson phoning for your services tonight?” he challenged.

She clenched her fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. She was going to fucking kill Scorpion for this. “Did he have anything else to say?” she asked, keeping her face neutral despite the rage simmering below the surface.

“Just that he’d be acquiring your services at nine pm. When you’re done with him, you know where I live.”

Her nose wrinkled at the thought of Vince touching her. She mustered all the calm she could, her voice icy. “Mister Thompson requires a different kind of service, and you, Vince, are delusional if you think I’d ever consider your proposition.” She crossed her arms over her chest, a gesture that didn’t escape his leering gaze. “My time is valuable and certainly not something you could afford or appreciate. As for where you live, I’d rather not

tarnish my shoes on your doorstep.”

Vince’s smug expression faltered, a flicker of anger crossing his face. But she didn’t wait for his response. Her disdain for Vince was like a bad cough syrup to swallow, a sharp contrast to the calm composure she fought to maintain. She turned on her heel and took the stairs to her apartment.

Once in her home, she scanned through her messages, found the number Scorpion had texted her from, and pressed the call button as if squashing a bug.

---