Killing Pretty Read Free Page B

shades. Round and deep black, so her eyes are invisible. Her hair is buzzed to maybe an inch long and dyed cotton-­candy pink. Black lipstick and a bomber jacket over a “Kill la Kill” T-­shirt. Black tights with thigh and shinbones printed in white down the sides. Shiny black boots with pointed studs on the toes and heels.
    â€œSo,” Candy says. “Different enough?”
    â€œPlenty. Perfect. Still got your knife?”
    She opens her jacket and shows me where she’s had someone at Lollipop Dolls sew in a leather sheath.
    â€œThink my lunch-­box gun will go with the ensemble?”
    â€œI think you’d look naked without it.”
    She grins and gets a little closer.
    â€œNaked. I like the sound of that. I checked out my reflection on the way in. I’d do me. How about you?”
    I shake my head.
    â€œCareful. Out here in the world we’re still getting to know each other.”
    She purses her lips and pulls the jacket around her.
    â€œYou’re goddamn paranoid. You should see someone about that.”
    â€œI tried, but she kept writing things down. It made me more paranoid.”
    Candy looks away at the bottles behind the bar.
    â€œI went to all this trouble and I can’t even kiss you.”
    â€œGrab a drink and come back into the corner. Julie and I are just about done with our meeting.”
    â€œFine,” she says.
    I can hear the disappointment in her voice. She went way out of her way to change her look and all I can do is nod and smile like a tourist admiring the view. Truth is, even before Candy became Chihiro I’d been feeling funny about the two of us. When she was locked up in a Golden Vigil jail cell for attacking a civilian, she said some things. Like I was using her. Like I thought she was sick. Later, she said it was just poison talking after someone spiked her anti-­Jade potion. She said it made her crazy and suspicious. Maybe. Because some of what she said hit close to home and I’ve been wondering about it ever since. There’s a lot of unspoken stuff between us. I used to think that was a good thing. Now I’m not so sure.
    When I get back to the table, Julie says, “Who was that?”
    â€œGuess.”
    â€œYou’re kidding me.”
    â€œYou’ll see for yourself in a minute.”
    Candy comes over with a shot of whiskey. I swear I can smell it all the way across the bar.
    She takes off her sunglasses and hooks them over her shirt. Grabs a chair and sits down at our table.
    â€œWhat do you think?” she asks Julie.
    â€œI can’t believe you’re the same person.”
    â€œThat’s the idea,” I say.
    â€œAdmit it, I look like a superhero, don’t I?” she says.
    â€œI don’t know many pink-­haired superheroes,” said Julie. “But if there are any, you’ll be stiff competition.”
    Candy looks at me.
    â€œSee? She likes it.”
    â€œI told you. I like it fine. We just have to be cool.”
    Candy rolls her eyes.
    â€œHe thinks if I stand too close to him we’re going to get nuked.”
    â€œHe might have a point,” says Julie. “About playing down your relationship.”
    Candy sits back in her chair.
    â€œYou two should start a band. The Buzzkill Twins.”
    â€œJulie is going to have a new office soon,” I say, trying to change the subject.
    That gets Candy’s attention. She sits up.
    â€œCool. If you’re hiring this scaredy cat, can I have a job too?”
    â€œWhat are your skills?” says Julie.
    â€œI was afraid you’d ask that.”
    I say, “You used to run the office for Doc Kinski.”
    â€œYeah. I did.”
    â€œI might need a receptionist at some point,” Julie says.
    â€œSwell.”
    I look at Candy.
    â€œYou really want to be a receptionist?”
    â€œNo,” she says. “I want to kick down doors like you, but apparently I’m not