Chapter Fifty-Two
The Fear Beneath His Heel
Night falls before I find the courage to leave the main house. I’m eager to escape Madam Karina’s clutches, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to make the sacrifices it’ll take. Poppet is quiet as I fasten the same bra I’ve worn and washed over the last several weeks. The same one that came with me from Detroit.
Poppet walks over to me silently with something clutched in her hand. As I watch her in the vanity mirror, she unfolds the blouse—black with a plunging neckline. I stand silently, and she slips it over my head. Together, we inspect my slight figure. I have a small chest, and hips that would insult a real woman, but this sinful number still screams seductive.
My scalp tingles with anxiety as Poppet hands me her makeup bag. I withdraw what I need and lay it out on the counter, draw in a breath before I begin working. It takes me a full half hour to complete my masterpiece. When I’m done, I cross the room to the middle dresser drawer. An old, familiar chemical-laden scent touches my nose, and when I close my hand over my treasure, a shiver works its way down my torso.
Hello, old friend.
I withdraw the hot pink wig and clutch it to my stomach. It’s the last one I bought from Greg’s shop, and the memories of being there in that store, with the fragile safety it brought me, are almost too much to bear.
I wonder how Greg is now. His shop is gone. But he’s sharing a place with his boyfriend. Maybe he traded one dream for another. Sometimes, I let myself believe there’s room in his life for me. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from living in this warped house, it’s that I must depend on myself first and foremost. It’s okay to let others help. But it’s time for me to stand on my own two feet, however unstable that may feel.
With careful fingers, I slide the wig onto my head. When I flip back the tresses, Poppet’s gaze lands on me with a weight I want. She needs me. Not the other way around, though I do want her in my life. But this time, I am the one who must do for another. I am not a girl awaiting Dizzy’s arrival home.
Tonight I am someone else’s hope.
It feels good.
“I won’t let you down,” I tell Poppet. “Give me three days, and we’ll be out of here. Maybe sooner.”
“Cain, too, right?” she says, wringing her hands.
“Cain, too.”
“I could do this, you know,” Poppet says in a rush. “I could earn the money the same way you’re thinking.”
“No,” I snap. Then, realizing how harshly that came out, I let my face fall. “No, it needs to be me. I have a customer I can ask.”
“Jack,” Poppet says.
I nod. “And I’ll be in the guesthouses where more money is spent. And more…activities are allowed. The Tulips would never let you get away with doing anything more than first base stuff.” I gaze out the window to where the west guesthouse lays waiting. Only a shack, really.
Poppet throws herself into my arms. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” I pull back so she can see my face. “Don’t take any crap from the Tulips, understand? If it gets too bad, you find me. Promise.”
She hugs me again. “I promise.”
I let go of her before I lose the nerve, and stride out of the room and toward the staircase. I leave my other wigs behind. I only need the one now. My freshest, hottest baby. Something to remind me I am Domino Ray, and I can handle anything.
What is it you’re planning to do, Domino? Wilson asks as I descend the stairs.
I almost laugh. Look who’s avoiding the truth now.
Wilson pretends to be hurt, presses himself into the corner of my mind and pouts. I push open the back kitchen door and glide through it, spotting the black demon car and Eric’s gold sedan in the drive. I pray the officer Cain beat up hasn’t ratted us out, but if he has, there’s nothing I can do about it now.
Behind me, I can hear the sounds of house girls readying themselves for a night of customers and bronze coins.
I am not one of them anymore.
I am this.
I tear the tulip from my chest and throw it to the ground. The sky presses down on me as I walk, and I press back. Tilting up my chin, I set my gaze on the west house, on the shutters and miniature porch. The house can’t consist of more than three bedrooms and one bathroom. I doubt there’s a full kitchen, or a dining room, or any more privacy than what’s afforded in the main house.
But as a Lily, I’d be awarded safety from Mr. Hodge’s constant pressure to earn more, perform better, make the customers happier. And Madam Karina wouldn’t be able to keep quite as close an eye on me, either. And there’s more money to earn, and a place that must feel secure.
And, of course, status.
I have practically talked myself into thinking this won’t be so bad. Until I leave, the days will be improved. And the nights…the nights I will turn to Wilson for comfort as I earn a fistful of cash that Poppet, Cain, and I need to start again. It’s true I’ve never slept with anyone. And when this is all over, I won’t count this as my first time. If I ever have a true first time, it will be with someone I feel safe with. Someone I trust. He will go slow and tell me he loves me and I will love him back.
I will love him back.
“Domino.”
His voice is as sharp as it is deep. He moves toward me with caution, as if I’m an animal he’s afraid will flee.
Cain opens his hands. “Don’t do this.”
Three words, and already my confidence falters.
“We can leave without the money,” he says.
“We won’t get far enough.”
“I’ll steal it.”
“It’d be harder than you think.”
Cain shakes his head. “There’s another way. You know there is.”
“Nothing will get us out of here faster than this,” I say.
Cain’s words come slower, softer. “Don’t go in there. Don’t become one of her girls.”
I touch a hand to my wig. “I am not hers.”
“If you go in there, you will be. Regardless of what else happens, of whether we escape her, she will always know she made you do this.”
“And I will know I did whatever it took to save my friends.”
Cain takes two powerful strides toward me. “I am not your friend, Domino.”
When I see the hungry, desperate look in his eyes, my knees grow weak. Not this. Anything but this. I have to be strong right now, but I can’t be if he keeps looking at me that way. When his hand rises to my cheek, my breath comes out in a shudder.
“I want to be the one who saves you,” he says, his face so close to mine.
I close my eyes against the feel of his fingers brushing over my face, my neck, my collarbone. “Once we leave here, you can save me. But let me do this one thing first.”
“I can’t stand by and let this happen.”
When I open my eyes, my gaze falls on his mouth. On full, pink lips. His hands wrap around my face and my every fear, my every nightmare, crumbles beneath his heel. There is only Cain now. Only this mountain of a boy who refuses to budge. A boy who is more like a man than any I’ve met.
“I’m falling for you,” he whispers. “If something happens to you, it’ll destroy me.”
His lips crash into mine.
My body reacts instantly. My arms twine around his neck, and he tugs me against him. And there, in the space between the main house and the smaller one where I’ll earn our escape, Cain kisses me. I kiss him back, too. Because that question he asked me in the car. About whether I saw the two of us being different—and better—together, has haunted me. I know the answer.
Yes.
From the moment I saw his two-layered eyes outside that alley. From the moment I recognized his pain as a worthy contender against my own, I wanted him. He knows my darkest secret, and yet he holds me in his arms, his lips moving against mine tenderly.
His fingers clutch my back, rising until they reach beneath my pink wig and slide into my own hair. Chills rush over my skin, wave after wave, as the stars plummet to the earth. I feel small in his arms, breakable. It’s a welcomed difference to the explosiveness I’ve felt with others. As if I were a moment away from taking their lives.
Cain moves his lips from mine and trails a line of warm, delicious kisses down my throat. Then he lifts his mouth to my ear and says, “Stay with me.”
But now, more than ever, after I’ve admitted to myself how I feel about this boy, I know I must go.
“Give me three days,” I say, my head against his chest. “And then I will stay with you. As long as you want me.”
“Forever,” he answers suddenly. “It’s too soon to say that, I know. But right now, I can’t imagine a time when I won’t want you.”
I push away from him, knowing if I don’t go now, I won’t be able to. “When you put it that way, then three days is nothing.” I force a smile and lay a hand on his chest, grip his shirt in my hand. Then I let go and turn toward the Lilies’ house.
He says my name three more times as I walk away, each more urgent than the last. But I don’t look back.
Do you prefer him over me? Wilson asks quietly.
Don’t start, Wilson. Don’t ruin this moment for me.
Wilson licks his lips, thinking. I like him, you know. I just don’t want to be replaced. He can’t carry your pain the way I can.
Maybe he could.
Wilson flinches like I’ve wounded him deeply. He crawls away, cowering.
I don’t hear from him again that night.
It bothers me more than I care to admit. For all my talk of being frightened of Wilson’s presence and what it means, it scares me far worse to imagine him gone.