Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
I had separation anxiety from Henny after we headed out, and I honestly considered bringing him with us, in case he experienced the same. But I decided to wait to bring him out on operations after he was used to me and my chicks.
So, while Jinx rallied the crew to meet us at the diner, we swung by the Sun Valley Motor Lodge to have a conversation with Mr. Shithead.
He might not know anything, but he also might, and we were going to leave no stone unturned.
When he saw us approach the reception area, he didn’t act like a dick.
Such were the powers of porn.
We swung in, and I could have kissed the girls for letting me lead it.
I dispensed with any pleasantries, as they’d be lost on him anyway, and asked, “Do you know a dealer named Lil Clown?”
“Where’s my titty mags?” he asked back.
That was when it became clear I probably shouldn’t be leading this.
This was because I launched myself over the counter at him, and with my hips balanced on it, my legs in the air, I caught him by the neck of his tee and dragged his face to mine while the girls all tried to pull me away.
“I asked…do you…know a dealer…named Lil Clown?”
“Je-Nat, come back,” Harlow pleaded.
I shook him by his collar. “Do you?”
“Get off me,” he demanded, testing the limits of his tee by pulling back on my hold even as he wrapped his fingers around my wrist to try to yank it free.
“Answer me!” I shrieked.
“I don’t fuck with that shit, woman,” he said. “I get mine legal by going to the dispensary. Now back the fuck off.”
The girls managed to pull me away and Luna took my place—not accosting him, talking to him.
“As you can see, this is important to her,” she began.
He jerked at his not-too-clean and now misshapen T-shirt. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“So, I swear on all I find holy, those things being books, interior décor and really good vodka, that I’ll bring you ten mags of your choice and ten movies if you have any information on this Lil Clown asshole or his crew,” Luna bargained.
“I deal in hookers and rooms,” he returned. “I see deals go down. I don’t pay attention. They don’t like people paying attention. It’s just whores and beds by the hour and the occasional moron who wanders in thinking he’s gonna get a deal while the spring training is on.”
“Fuck,” I bit off, turned on my Van and prowled out of motel reception.
The girls followed me.
When we got to the tail of the Sportage, Harlow sidled in close.
“I think you need to try some breathing exercises,” she suggested.
“I think we need to get our asses to the diner,” I retorted.
“I think we need to source a lot more informants,” Raye muttered to Luna.
“I think you’re right,” Luna agreed.
“Can we go?” I asked impatiently.
Raye got in my space, which I didn’t appreciate at that juncture, but I did nothing about it because she was speaking. “I love you. Heart and soul. I get it. It guts me that he’s with them instead of in the world where he feels safe. But, babe, Harlow’s right. You need to chill the fuck out.”
This was true.
I needed to chill out.
I drew in an unsteady breath.
“Another one, please,” Harlow requested.
I drew in another one. It wasn’t any steadier, but I did it.
“We’re gonna find him, or the men are gonna find him, Jess,” Luna said. “Trust the process.”
The Nightingale crew found Raye’s sister who had been dead for nineteen years, and her killer.
They’d find Homer and the rest of them.
I took in another breath. It was a whole lot calmer.
Then I said, “Let’s go.”
We climbed in the Sportage, and we went.
When we hit the diner, the girls weren’t inside.
They were loitering outside, all of them wearing non-sex worker outfits of jeans and sweaters or tees and jackets with the addition of sneakers.
Though, Divinity’s sneakers were wedges.
And they were all there, that whole crew: Jinx, Persia, Divinity, Skyla, Lotus, Cameo and Genesis.
And standing with them were Bambi and Bambi’s mom, Betsy.
Bambi’s name wasn’t Bambi, it was Christina. And Bambi wasn’t a sex worker anymore. Bambi had been trafficked, saved by the Angels and the Hottie Squad, and then she spent a lot of time in counseling and attending support groups (and, the last I heard, she was still doing both).
Now Bambi was no longer Bambi unless she was in this environment, an occurrence, considering her history, that was rare and only happened so she could keep in touch with the crew, both ours and Jinx’s. This happened over burgers at the diner.
Outside this environment, she was Christina and she was in beauty school.
But now, for some reason, she was here.
We got out and headed to them.
“Sucks you didn’t bring the Merc,” Skyla muttered, eyeing the Sportage.