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When the car finally pulled away, my chest ached like the Cadillac had taken half of my heart with it. Something deep inside of me wanted to go with them. If I could talk things out with Nash and Blade, maybe we could put the past behind us.
Besides, after the chaos of the sermon, I was starting to fear what plans Rubin had for me. All of his followers seemed to believe that I was supposed to marry him.
The Prophet’s promised bride.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
There was only one place in Valemont where I’d be safe from The Messenger’s reach.
Feverpoint.
But the Cyrus of it all…
“You’re going to catch a cold sitting by that drafty window all night.” Lola swung open the front door, barely able to set down her work bag before Chrissy shot across the apartment and into her arms.
“It’s not that drafty,” I pulled my sweater closer, swinging my legs down from the window frame as I stood to help her with her bags.
It was, in fact, that drafty. We hadn’t yet hit the frigid chill of a Valemont winter, but Lola knew it was coming and had to ration her heating budget accordingly.
I didn’t mind, though. Wearing a sweater around the house wouldn’t kill any of us — especially when Chrissy had so many cute ones to choose from.
Wiping her boogers on the sleeve of a particularly adorable blue puppy sweater, Chrissy wrapped her arms tight around her mother’s neck. “We did dragons, and kitties, and firefibers, and you, and…”
As Lola tilted her head at me, I nodded to the paper and crayons strewn across the floor. “Coloring.”
“Ah,” Lola smiled. “That sounds awesome, sweetie. Do you want to show me after I get dinner started?”
“I’ll start the food,” I cut in, grabbing a light bag of groceries from her hand.
“Thank you,” she muttered, kissing my cheek before letting Chrissy drag her over to the living room floor.
Once my back was to Lola, I frowned down at the bag.
Mac and cheese tonight. Again.
Even after a shift at the club, there was never enough money to go around. And despite my insistence, Lola wouldn’t take my money until I found my own place to stay. “What’s the point of bleeding you dry over shit I’d be paying for anyway?”
The point would have been to make me feel like less of a freeloader than I was. Or at least to stop me from straining her tight grocery budget. But we’d already had this argument once — I’d just have to find a way to pay her back double once I was back on my own feet.
Once the pot was on, I took a seat on the floor next to her, pulling a throw pillow under my hips to shield me from the cold tile. “How was Paradise?”
“Good,” she shrugged. “Long shift. More of those weirdos.”
“Again?”
She nodded. “They don’t bring cash. They just watch, and wait, like the weird kid on the playground. Nico’s gotta do something about it…”
“Yeah…” I sighed. Nico had been trying her best to keep the religious creeps from clogging up the club. And she was doing a decent job, no thanks to the owner. But there was only so much that could be done especially as their tactics escalated.
The Witnesses who came without money were at least passive. But the ones with cash were gnarlier than any client I’d seen before.
“Did anything… happen?” My gaze flicked to Chrissy, who was scrawling away cluelessly at an astronaut coloring sheet.
“No, no. But it’s only getting harder to make a living like this, and I don’t know what else to do. It’s not like McDonalds is going to pay me any better, and then I’ll never see my kid. But the bills are stacking up higher than my eyes, and….” Lola shook her head, forcing a smile onto her face. “You know what, it’s fine. We’re just going to make it work. We always do, huh?”
She leaned her head against my shoulder in a gesture somewhere between affection and a bid for warmth. I tried to hold steady, but the truth was that I was scared of what Valemont was becoming, too.
I still hadn’t shaken the feeling of hands clawing at me after that Messenger vigil last week. I had no clue what those psychopaths meant calling me his wife, but I was terrified every time I showed up at the club.
