Chapter Thirteen: Laina

Turned out, when Lola said she’d handle it, she’d meant it. The next day, around lunch time, there was a knock at the door. The press conference was at three; just before the day shift people left their jobs, so any usable clips would be ready for the evening news. I was sitting in the living room, listening to Tessa drone on and on about how she couldn’t find a wig for me, but she had gone out and bought bleach and everything else I’d need to try to get the color out of my hair.

She sent Kieran to answer the door, not thinking twice. Mike stood behind me, my watchful guard. Even though his face was usually passive, I could tell he was tired of hearing Tessa talk, too.

“Look who’s here,” Kieran spoke dryly, walking into the living room with two people in tow: a man with hazel eyes that matched Mike’s and a gorgeous blond woman carrying a few bags.

Lola and Viper.

“Excuse me,” Tessa started, getting to her feet as she took on a tone that was more than scolding. “Who are you and why are you here, in my house?”

Lola grinned at Tessa, unflinching under her scrutiny. She wore ripped jeans that showed off her thin legs, along with a neon pink shirt that dipped low enough you could see the top curve of her cleavage. “I’m Lola, and this is Viper. You and I have met before, at some dinner your husband threw to welcome Sylvester’s support.”

I’d never seen a switch so fast. Tessa went from stern and annoyed to overly kind and welcoming. She walked over to Lola, saying, “Of course, of course. I’m so sorry I forgot. We’ve met so many people during the campaign. You slipped my mind, I’m afraid.”

“Viper’s also Mike’s brother,” I chimed in.

“Really?” Tessa glanced between the two men. “I don’t see the resemblance at all. Uh, Laina, how exactly do you know Lola?”

“Oh, we’re besties,” Lola answered her, drawing Tessa’s eyes back to her. “I met with her in the hospital before you and your husband did. I make it a point to do my best to protect the girls in this city. Now, if you’ll excuse us—” She gestured for me. “—I have to get her ready for a press conference this afternoon.”

I was slow in walking toward Lola and Viper, well aware every set of eyes in the room was on me. Behind me, Tessa attempted to argue, “I have someone coming at one-thirty—”

“Don’t bother.” My bestie grinned. “I got it. Your stepdaughter is safe in my hands. When she’s with me, she’s probably the safest she’ll ever be in this city.” Her bright blue eyes shifted to Viper, the man with countless serpentine tattoos running up and down his arms. “Viper, would you be a doll and stay here with them?” To Tessa, she added, “I work better alone.” She basically gave Tessa no way to argue with her.

Hey, I was all for it, and that was why I followed Lola out of the room with no hesitation whatsoever.

“Where’s your room?” she asked.

“Upstairs. I’ll show you.” I brought her to the grand staircase, and up we went, to the second floor. We pushed into my room soon after that, and Lola kicked the door closed with her foot, then she went to deposit her bags onto my bed. “When you said you’d handle it, I thought—”

Lola snapped her fingers and pointed to an empty spot on the bed before her, telling me, “Sit.” Only after I’d sat down did she start going through the bags. She pulled out a makeup container, along with quite a few blond wigs of all lengths. A bob cut, shoulder-length with layers, and one that had quite a bit of length.

The surprise must’ve been evident on my face, because as she fixed up the wigs, she explained, “I used to go clubbing, back before I settled down. I’d wear wigs like this—usually brown ones—and I’d catch myself a man for the night. I had a whole routine: I’d drink a bit, pretend to be tipsy and a little drunk, and I’d see who offered to take me home for the night.”

I didn’t know why she was telling me this, but I had the feeling her story was going to take a sharp left turn any time now. When she carried on, I found I was right.

“When they were butt-ass naked, ready to fuck, thinking they’d get lucky with pretend-drunk me, I sliced their necks and let them drown in their own blood.” Lola stated it so matter-of-factly, I could do nothing but stare at her in shock. “I had a name, too: the Night Slayer. I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

To have someone so gorgeous talk about murder like it was nothing made me confused on all levels. And yet, I probably didn’t react how any normal person would when they were told something like that. I stayed pretty damn calm.

“But you stopped doing that?” I asked. “Why?” It was a strange sense of morbid curiosity that led me to ask, but I genuinely wanted to know.

She let out a sigh, turning her gaze to me. “One night I killed the youngest Luciano brother. I didn’t know who he was at the time, but Sylvester and Maddox found me. They took me, said they’d make me their pet serial killer for a while, and then they’d kill me.” Lola giggled. “I’m still waiting on that last part, though I’m starting to think they like me too much to kill me now.” She outright grinned at that.

“It’s funny that, what’s her name? Tess? Tessa? Whatever, your stepmother, pretended not to recognize me. The only reason your father got his foot in the door in the race at all was because of Sylvester’s support. My face is probably more well-known in this city than your father’s. I’m the Bloody Queen, baby. It ain’t your dear old dad that runs things—it’s me and my guys.”

From Night Slayer to the Bloody Queen. From serial killer to criminal queen. I didn’t know how she expected me to respond to all of that, so I simply said nothing.

“Now, enough about little ole me. Let’s move to you.” Lola touched the tips of my hair, gazing down at the color appreciatively. “You want a wig? Take your pick. Hell, take all of them. I’ll help you into it today and give you some pointers for the future, and then I can help you with your makeup.”

No one in their right mind would turn down Lola’s help. I pointed to the wig with the longer hair. “That one.”

“Good choice.” She picked it up, setting the wig on her hand as she fluffed the hair a bit. “Now, these can be styled, but be careful not to overdo it.” Something clicked in her head, and she looked at me, expectant. “I forgot I sent you Fang’s info. Did you ever contact him?”

It occurred to me then that she hadn’t even glanced down at my hand, at my missing fingers. It was like the injury wasn’t even there in her eyes.

“I actually went to his place the other day.” The day I’d heard from my Devil… who hadn’t messaged me again since. His silence was a little annoying, as was the fact I couldn’t message him back.

That got Lola to lift her blond eyebrows. “Really? Look at you, taking the initiative. I knew I liked you for a reason. I’ve never been to his place. How was it? How was he, for that matter? He’s a little… odd, isn’t he?”

I laughed softly. Odd was an understatement when describing Fang. The things he’d said… I struggled not to blush as I told her, “You didn’t tell me he’s got sharp metal fangs in his mouth.” Because he liked to bite.

“Come on, why would I ruin the surprise?” She grinned. “He is a character, that’s for sure.”

“His place was nice. He was… he was—” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence without sounding, for lack of a better term, like a girl with a crush.

Lola hummed. “I know what you mean. He’s a fine-looking man, that Fang.”

“That’s not—” I lost the battle against the heat creeping up in my cheeks. “I wasn’t saying that.” Even I didn’t believe me, so there was no way in hell Lola would. Since I knew I couldn’t defend myself against her assumptions, I kept quiet after that.

“Hey, Fang’s an odd one, but like I said, he’s fine. And beyond that, I trust him with you. There aren’t many men in this city I could say the same thing about. My guys, duh. Harvey, yes. Big Mike, obviously. How’s that going? Is the big guy working out for you?”

“Mike is nice,” I told her. “I like him.”

She reached for my chin, pinching it gently. “Good.”

As she set down the wig and went for a brush for my hair, I asked, “What did Fang make you? You told me he did something for you, but you never said what that was.” Since he obviously worked with metal, it had to be something made of it. Lola didn’t strike me as someone obsessed with sculptures, though.

“Once my guys realized they couldn’t, you know—” She ran a nail along her neck, mimicking a throat-slitting motion. “—I was gifted with a skeletal mask. I loved it so much. A while back, we had to sacrifice it in order to catch some asshole, so he made me another. One day I’ll have to show you. He does things with metal that make it seem like magic.”

“I know. He showed me some prototype of a Freddy Krueger gauntlet he made for his brother a long time ago. It was pretty cool.”

Lola grinned at me. “He did? Look at you, bonding with Fang. Who knew he’d have a thing for pink and blue hair and an innocent face?”

I wanted to argue with her, tell her that Fang didn’t have a thing for me, that he was just showing me some of his work, but then the part about the innocent face sunk in. Did I really have an innocent face? Was that why Tessa wanted me to play into it? Act like a traumatized girl because someone who looked like me couldn’t possibly be strong?

I was silent after that, letting Lola do whatever she wanted. After I’d changed into the outfit Tessa had picked out for me, she helped me with the wig, showed me some tips on how to make it look more natural on my scalp, along with how to fix it so it wouldn’t move on my head. She styled it for me, gave it soft, gentle waves, and then she helped me with my makeup.

She didn’t poke any more, didn’t prod. Maybe she sensed I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Whatever it was, Lola remained intent on making me look presentable to the outside world.

“Makeup is a girl’s best friend,” Lola told me. “Not because it can hide your flaws, but because it can hide your face. It can make you look older, make you look younger, like a movie star or a freckle-faced teen if you use it right. Men think makeup is only for the flaws, but we know differently, don’t we?” She grinned, but then that grin fell off her face. “Men also think the natural look is a look that requires no makeup. Men are stupid.”

That, I could agree on.

Lola gave me that natural look, and when I walked over to the bathroom across the hall to appraise her work, I had to hand it to her: she’d done a good job. With the blond wig on and some expertly-applied makeup, I looked like a normal girl, if perhaps a bit younger than my nineteen years. The natural look made me appear more naive, more innocent… which was exactly what would help my case, and my dad. No heavy eyeliner, no heavy mascara or eyeshadow. My skin had a healthy glow to it.

And the wig did look natural. Tessa would be happy, as much as I hated to admit it.

“Now,” Lola paused, standing in the doorway to the bathroom, her arms folded over her chest, “are you sure about this? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Same can be said for the wig. Say the word, and I’ll help you get out of here and out on your own.”

That made me whirl on her. “What?” I really hoped no one was down the hall, listening, because something like that would be hard to explain.

“You hate it here, in this house. I can tell. You’re trying to do what everyone wants you to do, but isn’t that what you did before?” Lola dropped her arms to her sides, stepping toward me as her voice dropped to a bare whisper, “You don’t need to play by their rules any more. I can help you get where you want to be.”

“What about my kidnapper?” I asked. “I thought you wanted to catch him and see if he took someone you know, too?”

Lola waved that off. “I was hoping it was the same, but… the more I think about it, the less likely it seems. She was older than you, and she’s been known to play mind games in the past. She could be hiding out somewhere, waiting to come back when it’ll stir up the most shit.”

Something tugged at my heart when I asked quietly, “Does that mean you’re going to take Mike back?” I… didn’t think I wanted him to go, which was weird for me. It wasn’t like I’d gotten to know him that well, since the guy never spoke, but… I didn’t know. Maybe I’d grown used to his presence. Maybe I’d started to like having him around, watching me.

“No. I still want you to be safe. Mike’s not going anywhere.” I had to hide my relief at that, hope that Lola didn’t notice. “But I mean it, Laina. If you want out, all you have to do is tell me.”

I didn’t quite understand why Lola was taking such interest in my life and my well-being. It could be that I just wasn’t used to anyone truly caring about me like that. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Of course, gorgeous.” She winked at me. “Now, shall we descend the stairs in a dramatic fashion to reveal your new look?” She offered me her arm.

I couldn’t stop the smile that spread on my face as I hooked my left arm through hers. I had to be gentle about it, avoid touching her with the scabbing wound, but I managed. Wearing a plain black dress with just the barest hint of lace around the neckline, I looked like I was going to a funeral, but that was the point: look sad and traumatized to rake in the sympathy votes.

Although, why my dad needed sympathy votes right now was beyond me.

Lola and I paused at the top of the staircase, and she gave me a smile. “You do look beautiful, but no matter what anybody else says, I like the pink and blue hair better.” She whispered that last part, like it was a secret we’d keep between us, and then we descended the stairs together.

I still wasn’t used to wearing heels, so I was grateful Lola kept a firm hold on my arm as we walked down. My legs were a little itchy due to the black tights I wore under the dress. All in all, it was a very modest look.

Lola was right. Modesty, innocence—it wasn’t what I was going for anymore.

When we reached the first floor of the house, Lola harrumphed. “What the hell? Where is everybody? So much for descending the stairs in a dramatic fashion. Come on. Let’s find someone to appreciate you.” She tugged me along, down the hall, to the living room, where we’d left everybody.

Walking into the living room, I saw Tessa near the windows, holding a short glass full of some kind of alcohol. Viper and Mike stood off to the side, neither of the men saying a word to each other. Kieran had plopped down on the couch, looking bored, but when he heard us enter, his head whipped around so he could see. He was on his feet the moment after that, his black stare taking me in.

“Wow,” he breathed out the word, staring harder than he should. Anyone with eyes could see the hunger in those eyes… or maybe I could just because I knew it was there. “You look—” He struggled to finish.

Tessa turned away from the window, nodding once. “You look good enough to be put in front of cameras.” A tight-lipped compliment that wasn’t really a compliment. She finished whatever was in her glass. Apparently that was all she’d say.

Lola still had my arm hooked through hers, and I could tell she was staring daggers at Tessa. My eyes moved to Mike and Viper; mainly the former. Only the former.

His hazel stare was on me, his square jaw clenched. He said nothing, but he also couldn’t seem to stare anywhere else in the room now that I was there. Beside him, Viper said, “Who knew you could do such good work, Lola?” When Mike continued to say nothing, he added, “He says you look good.”

“If we’re done here, we really should get going. I want to be at city hall by two forty-five.” Tessa’s finger tapped on the glass in her hand, an impatient gesture.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Lola said, slipping her arm away from me. She shot me a look that said, Remember what I told you upstairs , and then she and Viper went to leave .

I walked after her, following them to the front door. “What about your stuff?” I asked.

“Keep it. I bought it all this morning for you.” Lola blew me a kiss, and then she and Viper were gone.

I watched them drive off, wishing they weren’t going. Something about Lola, now that I knew more about her, ironically made me feel safe. It was the same feeling I got around Mike too, now that I was thinking about it. There was something about them that made me feel like I could depend on them—and that was more than I could say for my own dad, sad as it was.

As I closed the door, I couldn’t help but sigh.

This press conference was going to be fun.