Fire Burning

Velvet Stalkers

I shut the door to my room and dropped my phone onto the bed. My heart was still hammering from earlier. From her. From what she said.

I flopped down, pulled up Mare’s contact, and hit video call.

She answered fast, her face lighting up the screen, eyebrows instantly raising. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I got into a fight,” I muttered.

“With who?” she asked, already gearing up.

“Claire.”

Mare’s eyes bugged. “Ari’s ex Claire? Oh, now I need the tea.”

I let out a slow breath. “She cornered me after class. Said Ari was just collecting strays now. Like I was some pathetic rescue project.”

Mare’s face twisted. “That bitch—”

“But that wasn’t what set me off.”

I looked down at the blanket I was clutching.

“She said, ‘Your mom would be so proud of you… oh wait. That’s right. She’s dead, isn’t she?’”

Mare froze. Her eyes darkened. “She did not.”

I nodded.

“I would’ve blacked out. No jury would convict.”

“I shoved her. Called her a plastic wind-up doll with daddy issues. Addie had to pull me off.”

“You okay?”

I nodded again. “A little shaken. But I’m fine. Addie... she’s been cool. She said I should come out tonight. Blow off some steam.”

“Where?”

“Velvet.”

Mare practically screamed. “You’re going to Velvet?! Girl, this is a moment. What are you gonna wear?”

I shrugged. “No clue.”

She grinned. “You need something red. Sexy. Dangerous. Something that says I’ve already buried the last bitch who crossed me.”

The door cracked open.

“I felt someone say ‘sexy’ and ‘dangerous,’” Addie said dramatically, stepping in. “I’m here to help.”

Mare grinned. “Oh my god, you must be Addie.”

“And you must be Mare,” Addie said, flopping onto the bed beside me. “Thanks for keeping our girl sane. Now let’s make her look like a damn fantasy.”

I flipped through my closet, pulling hangers until I found it.

The red dress.

It was sleek. Blood-red. Low cut. Tight. Dangerous.

I held it up.

Both of them gasped like I was presenting a sacred object.

“That’s not a dress,” Mare whispered. “That’s a declaration of war.”

Addie nodded, eyes wide. “That’s the dress hoes die for.”

I smirked. “Guess I’m wearing it.”

Addie squealed and jumped off the bed. “Okay, we have like—” she glanced at her phone, “forty-five minutes. Game faces, ladies.”

We got to work fast — Addie curling my hair into loose, wild waves while Mare coached me through smoky eyes and blood-red lipstick. They hyped me up the whole time, throwing compliments and teasing me until I could almost forget why I needed tonight in the first place.