Page 12 of The Princes of Stone and Steel

“Rock beats scissors!” she shouted. “I’m second. Rock beats scissors.”

“Okay, guys, have fun.”

Roshambo had been my go-to game forever. Most of the time I’d played against stuffed animals. I’d always won considering they couldn’t form anything but rocks. But once in a great while I’d coerced Aunt Cynthia to play along. Now I got to pass a little piece of my childhood along to the next generation. Maybe my chance to be remembered by someone, giving them something to pass along. Only time would tell.

Cynthia waited at the curb for me in front of the daycare at six o’clock sharp. Always at the curb. Although she did speed back up to twenty miles per hour on the drive home. Better than nothing.

“Your turn to cook dinner tonight,” she said. Putting the blinker on, she turned painfully slow onto our long street from the perpendicular one we had almost been killed on this morning.

“It’ll need to be something quick. Korrigan and I are going out.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? I finally have a friend. I’m eighteen tomorrow. Don’t you think it’s time I participate in life?”

“She’s too old for you.” Really? That was all Cynthia had in her arsenal?

“Aunt Cynthia, she’s nineteen and we’re hanging out, not dating.”

“Cheeky today, aren’t you? My answer is stillno.”

“Then I hope you’re happy with peanut butter toast for dinner.”

This woman, how much more unreasonable could she get? If this was how she wanted to play the night out, so be it. I refused to say another word to her.

The car hadn’t come to a full stop when I opened the door and leapt out, my pragmatic aunt shrieking behind me. My behavior might have been childish, but she’d put me in this position. Not like I ever asked anything of her. And I always kept my grades up. She had no right to deny me this.

If she thought for a second, I’d been bluffing about dinner, she found out how very wrong she’d been. I’d made good on my peanut butter promise, slapping the plate on the table, making it clink loudly. Then I headed upstairs to my room.

Seven

What exactly kind of club is this?

KORRIGAN CALLED ME ON THE BURNER PHONE SHE’D snuck me last because my dear old aunt didn’t believe in telephones.News flash, Aunt Cynthia, they actually exist and people actually use them.“Hey, you ready?” she asked.

“The woman won’t let me go.”

“So? Lock your door, she’ll think you’re brooding inside the rest of the night.”

“You want me to sneak out?” I didn’t remember ever stepping out of line with Cynthia before. Her word was law, a law which I followed to the letter. Was I actually going to consider doing it now? Could I actually go through with it?

“I’m at the end of your driveway. Put something cute on. I’m waiting.”

Korrigan was waiting.My friendwas waiting.For me. To take me out for my birthday, something no one had done for me before because I never cared about celebrating like that before. So yes, I wasn’t only considering it, I was darn well going through with it, and took those few precious minutes to collect myself as I calmly threw together an acceptable outfit, well, acceptable for Korrigan.

Painted-on jeans, a leather belt and this leather vest that was supposed to be worn as a top, corseted up the front but barely covering my midriff. Korri had brought me it the day after we’d met because she’d thought my blouse the day before had made me look like an old lady. Oh, and lastly, I slid on my Docs. All black.

And yeah, I needed those precious minutes to collect myself. Disobeying my aunt—phew!Big step. Eighteen tomorrow. Life would surely pass me by if I didn’t grab the bull by those ungrateful horns, right? My bravado began to waver the closer to finishing I got. I needed this, right? It was the right thing to do?

Hair in an off-center, messy bun, smoky eyes and thick mascara, I took in my appearance one last time in the long mirror hanging on my closet door and made the decision. Ungrateful or not, I’d own that bull and his horns tonight, then I set to climbing out my bedroom window. My feet dangled a couple seconds before I dropped onto the soft cushion of bushes down below.

Quietly, I moved up the dirt drive to the main road where Korrigan waited.

“You look hot, mama,” she said as I slid onto the pliant black leather in the front seat of her silver sportscar, next to her.

“Where are we going?” Excitement and unease dueled for dominance in my stomach.

“There’s this club in Detroit.”

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