Chapter 27: Buying Shame in a Size H
In the meantime, while Nash was getting ready for his next victim, Zayela was in a Walmart. The fluorescent lights in the store were a little too bright for the kind of things they sold.
Aisles of lace, silk, and elastic. Mannequins posed with their legs spread, hips cocked. Zayela kept her eyes forward, pretending she didn’t notice. She was already wishing she’d dragged a friend. The air back there felt thick, almost sticky, like it knew exactly what she was about to do.
She stopped by the bodysuit section.
Everything was either backless, see-through, or slit in ways that made her thighs feel warmer. The black lacy number in front of her looked like it should come with a warning. She held it to her chest, squinting. No way in hell it’d fit, maybe if she stopped breathing for a week.
She flipped the tag, frowned at the letters.
"Need a hand, sweetheart?"
The voice came from behind her. Zayela turned.
A girl with a half-zipped hoodie over a bralette, piercings in her lip and brow, and a nametag half-peeled off her tank top: Clove. She looked about eighteen but already tired of the world. The kind of girl who’d tell you off and then share her vape.
"I... yeah, I can’t find my size. Everything’s either choking my chest or showing my ass."
Clove snorted.
"Yeah, no shit. You’re built like a glitch in the matrix. Lemme guess... G-cup? H?"
"...I don’t know."