[18] The Woods

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Trixie has her lips planted firmly on Atty's. Why? I don't know. He said he was going to let her know we're leaving and I watched him fast walk to the pool table. Then I glanced at my phone and when I looked back up... they're kissing.

Well, she's kissing him. He's rigid and locked tight, like a mannequin. Oh boy, now I feel like a pimp- maybe I exploited Atty too much.

He pulls away pretty fast, and when he meets my eyes, he looks bewildered. Well, at least he's as confused as me, I thought maybe I had missed a signal or something.

Trixie waves at me as she makes her way over, criss-crossing between the scattered high-top chairs between the bar and the pool table. She bats her long lashes and grins. "You didn't honestly think I wouldn't recognize Jay Martin, did you?"

I'm stunned. Truly, for once in my life I'm speechless. She laughs when she notices the expression on my face. "C'mon babe, you know me better than that. When have I ever failed to name a hot guy? Especially one I'm interested in."

From behind her, Atty scrunches his face at the reference to Jay as a 'hot guy'. Or maybe at the thought of Trixie being 'interested' in him. But Trixie turns around and winks at him, pouting her lips. "Though playing with the older brother was fun too, so I don't mind the diversion."

She picks up her bedazzled clutch from the bar counter and leaves us with some legendary parting words. "Whatever you're up to, I hope it works. Will deserves to be knocked down a peg or two." Then she sashays away, red bottom heels clicking as she goes.

"That was..." I begin, but find no words to describe the events that just unfolded.

"Plot twist," Atty whispers under his breath.

I nod. "I swear, Trixie is a-"

"Hurricane," Atty interrupts.

I swat his leather covered arm. "Stop finishing my sentences." He only cackles in response as we, too, exit the club. The red oak of the door casts a strong contrast against its frosted glass panels and gold lining. Man, the BlueWay really is a crazy place.

I'm glad we extensively discussed the post-success part of the plan. I honestly didn't think we'd get this far. But we have, and now Atty and I need to meet up with Pres-Jay at the shabby shack in Maltens Woods.

As we cross the street, the pitter patter of our shoes slapping against the asphalt echoes in my head. All I can think of is my impending freedom. I feel like a new woman. A lighter one.

Atty cranes his neck to look at me as I climb into Rusty's driver seat. "You've got on a strange expression," he comments.

My lips are curled up and my nose is crinkled. My eyes are probably narrowed, too. "It's called happiness, Atticus," I sing, sighing the elated kind of sigh only mama ever does.

I pull out of our parking spot under the shade of an elm tree and ease onto the road. Beside me, Atty also sighs. "Yeah? What're you thinking about?"

There's a hint of caution in his tone that I can't quite place. What's his deal, all of a sudden?

"My emancipation."

Maybe that's a little dramatic, but it's what I'm feeling. The more I imagine Will's reaction to our counter-threat, the giddier I get. It's a good thing my left leg is bouncing of excitement and not my right, otherwise I might accidentally slam the gas pedal in all my glee.

"Jade, be careful. Your celebration is premature."

My grip on the wheel tightens, knuckles turning white. "Don't rain on my parade," I grumble.

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