420 by Kenya Wright, Jackie Sheats Read Free Book Online Page B

stairs were also done differently, no décor of any type, just plain white walls and dusty steps.
    “So your boss is the Wolf?” I asked.
    I’d meant it as a joke, but Pierre stopped climbing the stairs and stared back at me in shock. “He. . .he told you that? He told you his name?”
    “Wow. That’s really good acting. Does he pay you for that?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Does Mr. Furry Wolf pay you to pretend he’s different animals so that he can get women in bed?”
    “That’s a tricky question.” He adjusted his collar as if it was ruffled. “It’s clear that he’s lied about some things, but. . .he is the famous artist, Wolf. I’m just. . .thoroughly shocked that after all of these years, he’s come out to you, someone he’s. . .”
    “What?”
    He cleared his throat. “He’s been interested in for a while.”
    “Interested?”
    “Very interested.”
    “For a while?” I eyed him. “We’ve only met today.”
    “He’s been intrigued by you for some time.”
    “What are you saying?”
    Pierre seemed to look off beyond me. “I can’t believe he told you his street name.”
    “Oh, come on.”
    Pierre maintained that straight face. “You really don’t believe him?”
    “I don’t believe him or you.” I walked past him. “So where’s this gallery? I’m ready to meet up with my friends.”
    “He is the wolf,” Pierre said behind me.
    “Yeah. Yeah.” I got to the top, opened the door, and headed down the only way one could go.
    “Mrs. Red? Hold on, please.”
    I stopped and turned his way. “What?”
    “You cannot tell this to anyone. His identity must be kept secret. I’ll need you to sign paperwork before you go.” He toyed with that collar some more. “In fact, I’ll rush some papers up to you within a few minutes.”
    “I’m not signing anything.” I continued down the hall toward an opened white door where jazz music drifted out. “I don’t trust him or you. Maybe next time your Dr. Sheep could be more honest.”
    I got to the door and pushed it forward, but before I could walk in, Pierre grabbed my arm.
    “Ah!” I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
    Coco’s grandfather had done a good job with keeping us motivated to protect ourselves. I’d had to knock a few guys out with some prominent hits here and there.
    I put my back to the door, rolled my fingers, and got into the stance Coco’s grandfather had taught us when we were only in middle school. “Back away. You’re weirding me out and I’m already pretty out there with my thinking right now.”
    Pierre raised his hands and backed up. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I was only trying to get your attention to help you understand how serious this is.”
    “I’m not signing anything. In fact, I’m getting out of here.”
    He took one step forward. “You can’t leave without signing—”
    A familiar dark voice sounded behind me. “She’ll leave when she’s ready, and on her terms.”
    That better not be who I think it is.
    I turned around. “This is making me uncomfortable.”
    Dr. Sheep/Wolf/Whatever kept his gaze on Pierre who was mumbling sorry behind me.
    “Did you touch her?” my sudden hero asked.
    “I only grabbed her arm,” Pierre said. “But it’s not as bad as it sounds.”
    “Don’t touch her again.”
    “I second that.” I spread my hands out on my sides and drew a huge circle around me. “This is my space bubble. How about both of you back up.”
    I checked and both men did.
    Pierre’s voice was more accusation than a question. “You told her your identity?”
    “It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t believe I’m Wolf, anyway.”
    “It does matter. Part of your success is the mystery—”
    “My success is the art.”
    She’ll need to sign a form saying that—”
    “No.” Wolf waved the statement away. “She’s run the streets with some of the same people I’ve known or mentored in this game. She understands the need for privacy and all the things that could happen