“Do I have a cigarette, hah.” Saxsice snorts, perched on the lip of the pool, swishing her legs back and forth, staring over at Portia and her wealthy friends giggling and chattering, blonde and pink and tanned. She wants to lunge across the length of the artificial, chlorine-scented water and tear their throats out.

She doesn’t. Instead, leaning back, she plucks a pack of cigarettes from her abandoned, slightly damp towel on a nearly chair, shaking one out and offering it to the other woman. “Course I do. Doin’ this place without nicotine or booze is a fuckin’ crime, if you ask me.” A pause, as she fishes out a pack of matches as well, careful to not drop them in the pool. “More’n the crime of, y’know. Kidnappin’ us.

“You look like you could use some relaxin’, though. No offense.”