Yeah, so I wouldn’t go splat on the floor.
I stop and turn. Ahead, the street branches in a Y. Left for Low South, right for East 5th. For all Niles can swing the Greg vibe, he doesn’t seem the seedy type. Especially out here, with the sun catching his flyaways and gleaming off his skin.
I probably gleam, too. The air’s sticky enough.
“It’s safe,” I say. “I kept my word last night, right? You don’t have to guard your investment. Go home.”
He shifts back on his heels. “You really don’t like me.”
“It’s not about liking. I’ve stuff to do, and you don’t want to be involved. Trust me.” I flick a thumb over my shoulder, toward East 5th. “Go home.”
I swing down the right branch of the Y. Niles doesn’t take the hint. Three steps and he’s beside me again.
“Go home,” I say.
Another shrug. “Where do you think I grew up?”
“Wait, East 5th? But . . .” I glance over, reevaluate. He looks so clean. No obvious scars, at least not in profile. Even his nose is straight. “It didn’t break you?”
His mouth twists on something that should be a smile, and isn’t. “You don’t know that, either.”
I guess not. Yonni and I were in East 5th for a while before Missa gave us the suite, and it’s not like I have scars. That’s why she gave us the suite, and why Yonni accepted. We had a few close calls, or rather I had a few close calls. One bad one in an alley that Greg got me out of. Another reason I let him keep half Missa’s meds.
“You’re right,” I say. “I don’t.”
We walk in silence. Low South fights for dominance for a few blocks, upkeep battling age, but eventually the grime wins out. Skytowers loom in old heavy skestone, chipped and faded. People hunch into themselves, or dare the world to give a damn. The world never takes the bet.
We’re quiet as the towers slink together. The half-constructed skeleton of a high-class hotel, a listing line of residences with busted screens, a small grocery with dead things in the window.
I hang a left down the alley with the teeth graffiti—a long row of white molars painted with the stuff that burns green in direct sunlight. Not that this place has ever seen sunlight. We pass between rusty escape lifts and metal doors with busted access panels. Niles shifts closer to me, elbow brushing my arm.
Near the end of the alley, just around the corner from the other street lies another identically gritty door with a busted panel.
Decker has very specific hours. He’s closed tomorrow but should be open today.
I bang the door with the side of my fist. Niles does his blank-out thing, elbow frozen near mine. He’s an East 5th’er all right. He knows where we are.
I meet his eyes. “Really. Go home.”
The tension disappears at speed and he grins. “What are you talking about? I like an adventure.”
Maybe I misread the tension thing.
The door cracks and Decker sticks his skinny neck out. “What the hell do you—well, my, my, my. If it isn’t the asshole’s kid sister. I thought you were too good for us.”
“Cousin,” I say. “And have you seen the feeds? I’m not good enough for shit. Can I come in?”
Niles’s eyes narrow, but he’s not the important one here.
Decker widens the door and leans into the space, head outstretched as if to sniff me. He’s got big eyes and bony arms and bright clothes that scream for attention. “Maybe. Who’s he?”
No one Decker needs to have on his radar.
“Just some guy from the district,” I say. “Didn’t want me walking the 5th alone.”
“Which district?”
“Mine. Can we come in?”
“No.” Decker flashes teeth as wide and long as the graffiti’s. “Not we, you. Come on.” He waggles his fingers and steps inside.
Good. Niles doesn’t need to be in the middle of this.
I shoot him a nod and follow Decker.
Niles takes my arm with light fingers, voice dropping low, “What are you doing?”
“What? I have to.” I shake him off and step through the door. It slams shut.
A narrow hall stretches into darkness, with a spitting overhead light. The walls peel. The floor creaks.
“Well, well, well,” says Decker, sliding past me to creak his way forward. “And what’s the elusive daughter of the infamous Millie have to say for herself?”
“Elusive?” I ask.
Decker winks at me over his shoulder. “Nice hat.”
Like it’d stop anyone from recognizing me. Didn’t stop him.