Page 44 of Caught Up

“Probably in full Harley Quinn cosplay ready to fuck shit up.”

I would never stop being grateful for having such badass, loyal friends.

My gaze slid from Ryan to my phone. Seven grand. I could look at it as Junior’s payment for past sins, keep it rough and transactional to avoid getting attached. That way I could get this lingering need for him out of my system, tell him I accepted his apology after all, and then never see him again.

Before I could get stuck in my head about it, I scooped my phone off the counter and hit accept.

15

Junior

Iwas back in theold neighborhood again, my feet walking thewell-rememberedpath behind the arcade. This was where I’d smoked my first blunt as a teen, where I’d gotten my ass kicked by some older kids for talking too much shit.

It was darker at night than it used to be, without the carnival lights of the pinball machines shining out of the windows. Trash sat piled in the corners of the alley. It smelled like rotting food and stale piss. A lot had changed since I’d last been here, but I remembered when this wastheplace to meet with friends, flirt with girls. It was silent now. Kids didn’t need an arcade when they had easy access to endless games on their tablets and phones.

Still, the owners had kept it going for as long as they could, longer than they probably should have, closing the doors only when the pandemic finally forced them to. It had been up for sale ever since, but so far, there hadn’t been any offers.

Gino, the owner’s son, was an old friend, and when I’d asked him if I could use the building for the night, he passed me a key with no questions asked. Gino was good people.

I tucked my motorcycle helmet under one arm and got the back door open. Inside was like a mausoleum. All the machines were still in their places, standing sentinel along the walls. A thin layer of dust gathered on them, and the air held the stale note of abandonment. Moving deeper into the building, I saw that the front windows were boarded up, but at least the cracks between them were wide enough to let a little light in. Just enough for me to wonder if I’d made a mistake inviting Lauren here. I thought it’d be nostalgic, fun to sneak around our old stomping grounds, but so far, it was just depressing.

Fuck it. It was too late to turn back now. She’d be here soon, and I might as well spend that time making the place more presentable. The photo booth was still where I remembered, tucked in a corner near the back, and the same layer of dust that coated everything else sat like a film over the buttons and curtain. I found some rags in a storage closet and quickly cleaned the booth off, stepping back to take it in once I was done. It looked better, less like something you’d find in a haunted museum, but the thought of pulling Lauren inside it didn’t make me especially excited. We wouldn’t be able to see shit in there, even with the curtain open.

Hoping I wasn’t about to charbroil myself, I grabbed the cord and plugged it in. The photo booth immediately flared to life, light spilling out of it, buttons flashing electric blue in the darkness.

Overhead, I noticed something sparkling along the seam where the walls met the ceiling. Fairy lights. Jackpot. Only once they were on, bathing the space in a soft glow that made it look more cozy than spooky, did I realize I’d just spent over twenty minutes giving a makeover to a derelict arcade because I wanted to impress a girl. And to think, just last week, I’d burned a man’s house to the ground and nearly beaten him to death afterward.

I contained multitudes.

My phone chimed. I pulled it from my pocket to see a message from Lauren.

I’m outside, it read.And I brought two friends with me who are going to post up near the door. If I scream, they barge inside, and you have a very bad night.

Threats. I liked it.

The door is unlocked, I wrote back.You know where to find me.

This was a test. The last time I saw her, I had to chase her down. I needed to know she wanted this, or at least the cash, bad enough to make the first move on her own. If she couldn’t work up the courage to walk in here by herself, then she probably didn’t have what it took to put up with me.

The door opened with a loud creak.

“That’s not creepy or anything,” she muttered.

Another creak, and then the sound of the door closing. I strained my ears, trying to figure out whether she was walking farther into the arcade or if she’d taken one look inside and decided to bail. A soft footfall reached me, and then she was there, rounding the corner into the main room, her face turned up as she took in the fairy lights. Her hair was curled into loose waves, and she wore shorts and a cropped tank top. This was the first time I’d seen her up close without heels, and she looked so small without them. Delicate. Breakable. Right until she lowered her gaze to mine and pulled the taser out from behind her back.

“Am I going to need this?” she asked, electricity arcing between the two probes.

I cocked my head sideways, unable to help myself. “Only if you have a pain kink.”

Her grin turned diabolical. “Let’s find out.”

She took a step forward, and I moved sideways, putting a pool table between us. The thing about weirdos like Lauren was you never knew how far they’d be willing to take the bit, and I’d already risked electrocution once tonight.

Her expression was triumphant as she slipped the weapon into her purse, where it was no doubt primed and ready to go. Smart woman.

“So,” she said. “NT95?”

I nodded, bracing myself.

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