Free The Glamorous Life 2 by Nikki Turner

and a pair of shirts and she was done. That was a wrap.
    Now it was time to exit stage left.
    Head held high, she waltzed toward the exit, and that’s when the buzzer went off. One of the salesladies said, “Can I see your bag?”
    “Sure,” said a brunette too pale to be a native Floridian. The brunette handed the saleswoman her shopping bag. Probably a mistake, the saleswoman said with an apologetic expression and tone of voice.
    “I’m sure it is,” the brunette said.
    Calliope exhaled, feeling a bit relieved, but kept it moving like she hadn’t the foggiest idea what was really going on, until she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Excuse me, miss.”

 
    8
     
    Her stomach felt like a fat chick in a broken elevator. “I’m store special security,” the man said, identifying himself. “I’m going to need for you to walk with me.”
    What the hell he thought was so special about him? She flattered herself and chalked it up that maybe the store did realize that she was hitting them in a large way on a regular basis and the regular security wasn’t seasoned enough to deal with a pro like her, so they hired this clown. He was a real cocky tight ass, who acted as if he was somebody and she should be intimidated by him. The truth of the matter was that she was scared shitless, not of him but of the consequences.
    Calliope said, “There must be some kind of mistake. The buzzer didn’t go off.”
    There was something familiar about the security guy, but she couldn’t put her finger on it to figure out exactly what it was.
    “I know,” he said, “but I’m still going to need you to come with me for a moment. Then, if there’s a mistake, we can get it all straightened out.” She wanted to try to break loose, but the hold he had on her was tight like vise grips.
    “Oh, my!” one woman said. “I knew that little black girl couldn’t afford to step foot in this store.”
    “Well, can you?” Calliope boldly asked, totally catching her off guard. She stared at the woman as she got closer, making her way past. “I bet yo credit card bill is about maxed out, living above your means, trying to keep up with the Joneses.”
    Honestly it was nothing personal, but somebody had to say it. Calliope was already pissed that she had been caught and now this woman had the nerve to voice her thoughts on the situation, and to do it loud enough so that she could hear it. In Calliope’s mind, she deserved it and even though she wanted to wallow in her own tears, Calliope smiled when she realized she had made the woman turn red and hoped that her heart was pounding just as fast as hers. The woman dropped her head and that stopped the rest of the whispering of the store’s patrons.
    Calliope couldn’t be embarrassed at the awkward sneak peeks from the other patrons as she was escorted to the back of the store. The only thing she could think of was how in the hell was she going to get herself out of this major jam? If she went to jail for grand larceny, then Compton would surely be sent back to The Home, and God knows that would kill her.
    Once they reached the small room in the rear of the store, the “special ops” guy removed the items from Calliope’s oversized Gucci purse.
    “Now what do we have here?” he asked, and just by the way he smiled, it hit her like a Mack truck; she immediately knew why he seemed so familiar to her.
    “You’re the police that raided my mother’s house.”
    Off-duty, Brad “Rusty” Cage, in plain clothes, was taken aback. He was doing a little security work over the holidays to earn a few extra dollars. At first he was confused, then recollection shone in his eyes. Somewhat.
    He asked, “You have a younger sister or something?”
    “Nope.” She shook her head. “But I got a little brother.” She teared up. “You sent us to Cemetery Grayshell.”
    “Where?”
    She informed him. “The Home. And you destroyed my life,” she said with pain, conviction, passion, and anger.
    “I