Before anything else is said, I’m ushered upstairs. Yelena sits on the couch, but I ignore her. Max and his brothers aren’t in sight which probably means they’re up to no good.
I find myself back in the same bathroom Yelena slapped the shit out of me. I’m washing my hands when Daisy’s name flashes on my phone.
My eyes bug out and I turn toward the door. The hallway was quiet and I doubt there’s someone pressing their ear up against the door. Nerves crawl down my skin anyway.
“H-hello,” I answer quietly.
“Russie.” Daisy’s voice is clear and earnest. “Thank fuck you actually answered the phone.”
“Are you okay?” Why is she calling me when she never picks up the phone? Something occurs to me. “Did Marissa take your phone away from you?”
She snorts on the other end of the line. She’s awfully jovial considering her circumstances. “No.”
“Then why haven’t you been answering?” I whisper,conscious of whose house I’m in. “I tried to get in contact with you.”
“Why haven’t you come to see me?” she counters.
“Where the fuck are you?” I whisper-shout.
“You know where—Marissa’s.”
Fuck’s sake. “She’s keeping you at the bar?”
On paper, it’s a bar. In reality, it functions more as a brothel. Marissa conducts business out of it and launders most of her money through it.
“Is she making you?” I suck in a breath. Good lord, Marissa wouldn’t pimp her out? I already know the answer, though.
“No,” Daisy quickly replies. “I’m fine seriously.”
“Then why is she keeping you at the bar?”
“The same bar you used to bartend at?”
Only for about a year. Nancy called Tyler and he forced me out. I couldn’t even pretend to be unhappy about it. A shiver goes down my spine at the memory of the place.
“That was a long time ago,” I tell her. “And I wasn’t pregnant!”
“It’s not like I’m drinking. Also, just so you know, I rolled my eyes.”
“So in other words you’re fine.” I know it’s a lie even as I say it.
Something like a sigh drifts down the line. “Well. . . things could be better.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s this Ghost guy.”
I stifle a groan. Of course.
“Do you know anything about him?” Daisy asks.
My fingers curl tightly around the phone but otherwise, I remain still. “A little,” I admit after a minute.
“He’s coming after Marissa hard.”
Am I supposed to feel bad about that?
“He’s fucked with her supply of drugs and alcohol. And now the feds are nosing around even more than normal.”
