Page 117 of Rattle the Cage

Rubin might not have thought that far, but Harris would be thrilled to tout us out as mascots of the mission, proof that the home was a success. The thought made my stomach turn.

Back then, Rubin could be intense about his crush, but not quite that fucking weird. Though with each passing day, I could see more and more of a resemblance between him and his beloved Pastor.

“Hey, bitch.” Toned arms wrapped around my chair from behind, nearly scaring me out of my skin before I caught her reflection in the mirror.

“Jesus Christ, Lola,” I exhaled, pulling out my headphone as I sank back into her hug.

“Sound more excited to see me,” she sucked her teeth.

“Hi. You scared the shit out of me.” As I turned in my chair to face her, I couldn’t keep up my pout. It was somewhat rare for Lola and I to be working the same night, but the times we were were some of my favorite shifts. “Since when is this one of your nights?”

“Since I saw my latest electricity bill.” She rolled her eyes, setting down her own makeup bag. “I swear, the landlord’s gotta be siphoning off my power, cuz there’s no fucking way.”

I’d have scoffed if I didn’t already have my lipliner in hand, neatening up the edge of my sparkly brown lip. In the moment of silence, Lola glanced down at my phone on the table with furrowed brows. “Whatcha listening to?”

“A podcast.” My instinct was to shut the phone and put it away, to change the subject. But I’d promised to open up more to Lola. And I wasn’t going to go back on my word now. “Uh, Jeremy Zoric. You heard of it?”

“That one of those toxic jackass podcasts?”

“Yep.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the eyeroll that followed.

“Pretty sure my landlord jerks off to that shit. He has it blasting all hours of the night.”

“Jesus, Lola. No one needs to picture that.”

“Well if I’m stuck with the image, then so are you.” She waved a hand over the phone as she put on her eyeshadow. “Anything fun on there? Any words of wisdom for us wayward whores?”

“They had on this guy from my foster home…” There was no way I was going to tell Lola about the murder and implicate her — especially not in the greenroom of Velvet Paradise.

Luckily, Rubin was bait enough to keep her off of my scent. “Christ, how many of you were there? You fuckers are everywhere.”

“It was a small place. But it brought out a lot of big personalities, apparently. And unless they got shipped off to other homes when it closed, I don’t think many of the kids ever left Valemont.”

“You never talk about it, you know. Growing up there.”

I shrugged. “Not much to talk about. I fucking hated it.”

“Not enough to cut ties with your little friends from back home,” she smirked.

“That’s so different. They might have hated it more than I did.”

There was another moment of silence while Lola did her lipstick. Then, she glanced back at the phone screen, and her eyes widened. On a closer glance, the image of Rubin and Jeremy still frozen on those leather chairs seemed to spark her memory. “You know him? The one whose posters are all over town?”

“Yeah,” I swallowed, my throat tightening. Something about sharing the knowledge of Rubin with someone else made it all too real. Everyone in Valemont knew the Messenger, but no one remembered Rubin like myself and the Freaks.

She pursed her lips for a moment before curling them with disgust. “God, just looking at him gives me the creeps.”

A bark of laughter peeled past my lips. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t that. I could always count on Lola for the blunt truth, though. And for a much-needed laugh.

She sucked her teeth. “I’m serious, Tess. He looks like he fucks couches. No wonder Carl is such an asshole if this is the shit he’s listening to. Honestly, it’s a wonder Travis isn’t more of a creep, considering.”

“Yeah, but also…” I raised a brow at her, and she nodded. There were no warnings needed. We both knew all about men who hid their wolfish tendencies under sheep’s clothing — how often, they were more insidious than the ones who didn’t bother trying.

The thought of her living in a house with a guy like that, constantly batting away his affections, made me nervous. How long until he got sick of her ‘no’? How long until she was out on the street or worse?

Biting my lip, I drummed my fingers along the arm of my chair. “Listen, if you’re ready to get out of there, I’d be happy to send you some⁠—”

“Don’t.” She raised a finger at me before misting setting spray over her makeup.