“First the drug cartel and now this. Is he obsessed with Mexico or what?” Isabel said.
“I’m not at your mercy, YOU’RE AT MINE!” Rupert P. yelled, and it was something awful, fierce and violent. It made us all suck in a breath. “As soon as I get out of here—and I WILL get out of here—you’re all done for, do you understand? All four of you. Yeah, I can tell how many of you there are by your voices. And it all depends on my testimony just how much trouble you’ll get into. So it’s up to you. Either let me go now and get off with a lenient punishment, or keep me tied up longer and go to jail for it. Choice is yours, ladies.”
We were silent, and I knew what it was that had shut us up.
That word.
Jail.
Suddenly I was in the pit at a concert, hundreds of bodies crushing me against the barricades, cutting off my air supply. It felt like that, except for the exhilarating part.
I went to the bathroom door and opened it, motioning for everyone to follow me inside.
“Oi! Where are you going!” Rupert P. yelled, but his voice was drowned out when I shut the door.
“I am not going to jail,” I said.
“No one is going to jail,” Erin said.
“I watch Orange Is the New Black,” Isabel said. “If I go down, you’re all coming with me.”
“Rupert P. would never press charges,” Apple said. “I know him better than anyone, and he’s got a huge heart. He would never put us through that. And anyway, I’m sure we can work something out with him. If it comes down to it, I’ll volunteer to perform sexual favors.”
“In exchange for us not going to jail?” Isabel said.
“Yes, also that.”
“Get a grip, girl,” Erin said.
“Fine, I could try talking to him first. We should get rid of the blindfold. If I could just look him in those stunning amber eyes—”
“The blindfold stays,” Erin said.
“Preach,” Isabel said. “Once the blindfold is off, he makes us; once he makes us, we’re jailbait.”
“No one is going to jail!” Erin snapped. She didn’t exactly lose her cool, but it was the first time all day that she’d been close to it, and she seemed to realize it too. She ran a hand through her hair and shook it. It seemed to at once calm her down and revitalize the volume in it. Neat trick.
“Do you guys not realize that we have all the power right now?” Erin said. “Because he realizes it, and it’s got him going schizo. So long as Ginger’s terrified, we’ve got the upper hand.”
“Shit, Erin, I’m not in the business of terrifying gingers,” I said, unsure but still determined to talk some much-needed sense. “You think we’ll get anything out of him? He won’t even give us room numbers. And I’m not going to sit back and watch while Apple gives him a rubdown. We need to let him go.”
I watched Erin carefully, trying to gauge what was going on in her mind, trying to find her tell. I hated that she could so easily read my mind sometimes but her mind was still largely a mystery to me. She was our unspoken leader, always had been, and for one reason or another we always listened. I didn’t know if I expected her to call me out for being such a * about this and not sticking it out, or if she’d agree with me. And then I saw something in her: a twitch in her lips, a furrow in her brow. Still imperceptible to the other girls, but not to me. I’d known her the longest. I knew her most intimately. I knew she was thinking this through. She was coming around. The old Erin was back and was about to get on my side on this.
“Well …” she said.
But then someone’s ringtone cut her off. On instinct we all checked our phones, but the noise wasn’t coming from inside the bathroom. We opened the door and followed the sound. It led us straight to the one place none of us (except Apple) wanted to go. Rupert P.’s lap.
That was the moment something changed in Erin. There was a renewed vigor, and it was like nothing was ever said in the bathroom. That one little moment where I saw her resolve blink, that moment was totally gone now. Her eyes were wide open.
“Get his phone!” she said.
Of course, this was Apple’s job, and she took to the task no questions asked. She squeezed her fingers into one of the pockets in his jeans, ignoring his yelps of protest. Then she went to the other pocket. After a moment she went back to the first. “Oops. It was in the first pocket all along.”
She handed the phone to Erin, who took it from her and smiled down at the caller ID.
“It’s Griffin,” she said. “Should we answer it?”
“Don’t you dare,” Rupert P. said.