Chapter Fifty-Three
West House
I knock on the Lilies’ door several times before letting myself in. A girl with spiky black hair laughs when I step inside.
“I wondered when you’d decide to open that door,” she says. “Did you think we had a butler or something?”
Another Lily rounds the corner and enters the cramped living room. “You’re the new girl, right? Course you are. A few rules before Madam Karina comes to mark our hands. First, you don’t have a room. You’ll have to sleep out here. You can fight Bridget for the couch.” She motions to the girl with black hair. “But most likely you’ll end up on the floor. Second, if you need to use one of the bedrooms while a customer is here, tell me in advance.”
“How far in advance?” I ask.
“As far as you can.”
“I’m going to need a bedroom tonight,” I say.
Both girls gawk at me. The one with the punk hair grins and says, “Gotta admire her confidence.”
The girl who’s laying out the rules crosses her arms. I take in her features—high forehead, cheeks that hint at rosacea, and an underbite that’s almost endearing. Her wrists are thin and her ankles thick, and the lazy way she speaks tells me she’s been a Lily for a while. And that most likely, she is Point Girl here.
“My name is Marie,” she says. And then, as if these two facts go together, “Keep the customers happy however you’d like, but if you were a virgin when you walked in that door, you’ll be one when you walk out.”
“No pokey, pokey,” Punk Girl adds, giggling.
Marie rolls her eyes and acts as if she’s annoyed. As for me, I’m reeling from their forthrightness. I expected more behind-closed-doors shenanigans. Like, maybe if I wanted to do more than kiss Jack, I’d have to keep my mouth shut and keep up appearances.
Marie rears back and screams over her shoulder for the other girls to get their butts moving. Then she points at me. “Not sure why you’re showing up late, but tomorrow you’ll have double duty. We have to keep our place clean and the Violets’, so don’t plan on occupying that room too long.”
With that, she turns and leaves the room. I’m stuck taking in my surroundings as Punk Girl studies me. The living area has a floral couch, wood paneling, worn carpet with vacuum lines, and a fireplace that looks as if it hasn’t been used in years. Sporadic gold lamps, books, and stock paintings give the place a middle-class homey feel. The home is grossly outdated, but clean.
“You have a regular who you think will follow you here?” Punk Girl asks.
“Yeah,” I answer, thankful for the conversation.
She clucks her tongue. “You’ll have to start seeing the doctor.”
I’m about to ask a question, but before I can voice it, the front door swings open. Madam Karina steps inside, and Punk Girl yells for Marie. Seconds later, Marie emerges with three other girls in tow. With me, we make six Lilies.
We line up and Madam Karina marks our hands with her black magic marker. When she gets to me, she smiles, excitement rolling off her. I flinch when she wraps me in a hug and says, “You’re almost there, Domino. But this is where you will be tested. Are you ready?”
My throat clenches, but I manage a nod.
“Good,” she says, before letting herself out.
Marie claps her hands twice, and the girls spring into action. The lights dim, and music plays softly, and the room holds its breath. Less than five minutes later, customers stream in. One by one, three girls take customers by the hand and disappear into the back. Marie chats with a girl her age who looks like she could buy the town of Pox. They’re thigh to thigh on the couch, the girl’s hand on Marie’s inner thigh.
Try as I might to play it cool, I’m still surprised when they kiss, the gesture more emotional than physical. Marie must sense me watching, because she breaks the kiss and glares at me. “You have ten minutes before your room goes to someone else. And don’t forget you’ll owe Madam Karina a fee for using it.”
Did she mention that? I don’t remember. My eyes fall on the coin box attached to the wall and wonder what happens if I rent the room and my customer still awards his coin to someone else. It doesn’t matter, I decide. That balance sheet is dead to me. Pleasure washes through me when I realize that, already, Madam Karina is losing her hold on me.
It’s another fifteen minutes before Jack arrives, his face both hopeful and wary. He wears a brown corduroy blazer, though it’s hot out, and beneath that, a white shirt. His face is clean-shaven and his blond hair slicked back. He looks older in this light, older than the early-to-mid-twenties I’d pegged him at.
I swallow my fear, my hesitation, my pride. Remember why I’m doing this.
Cain.
Poppet.
The girls in those cells.
And secretly, a place of my own. If he gives me enough, maybe it will cover first month’s rent somewhere.
I don’t owe him anything. But I will do this for me.
I adjust my hot pink wig and strut toward Jack. I’ve never felt like a real woman. Never fancied myself a seductress. But with this music playing, inside this house of sin, I allow myself to become someone else. A vixen who always gets what she wants.
And what I want, I tell myself, is Jack.
He sees me coming, and anger flitters across his face. After all, the last time I saw him my knee greeted his groin. But he’s here, and I know it’s me he’s looking for. So I play this hand like a World Series poker champion, the winning card stiff in my palm.
“Jack,” I breathe, curling myself around him.
He grabs me by the arms and pushes me back, not ready to forgive me. “I don’t know what you think. But I didn’t come for you.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I pout. “Because I came for you.”
He eyes me warily, shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Want to go in the back?”
His eyes travel to the narrow hall that leads away from the living area. “The guy at the front, Mr. Hodge, said a girl would have to reserve a room or something. You wouldn’t have done that.”
“But I did,” I say, brushing my fingertips over his chest. Over the same place I touched Cain minutes earlier. “I had to think of a way to make you forgive me. Because even though I was nervous before, I can’t stop thinking about the night you kissed me.”
“And?” he says, taking the bait.
“And I want more.”
He grins, but glances away, his gaze landing on the two interlocked girls on the couch. “Maybe I want to explore my options.”
Marie takes that exact moment to glare at me. She’s communicating, again, that I’m running out of time on my room and to give her privacy. Desperate, I snake my arm around Jack’s and bring my lips to his neck. My stomach rolls when my mouth brushes the rough skin there. “Tell you what, I’m going to our room. If you follow me, I’ll make it worth your while.” And then, remembering how he pressed me for details of my life, I lose the act and try to reflect real sadness. “Jack, please. I just want to get to know you better without everyone watching.”
I turn and go before my face betrays me. Not knowing my way around, I grope the walls along the hallway and find two closed doors. They must be the rooms already taken, I decide. Farther to the left is a small kitchen with a green linoleum floor and yellow cabinets. And across from that is what appears to be a laundry room. Only when I move closer, I see that there’s a twin bed shoved inside. Nothing else occupies the space. No pictures, no lamps, no masquerading. There is only the bed.
Fighting the sickness rising in my throat, I move toward the bed. There’s hardly enough space on the mattress for two people to lie side by side. But I guess that’s not the point. The Point Girl, Marie, said if I came here a virgin, I’d leave here one. Well, I suppose I am a virgin. But I’m not so innocent, and I know there are plenty of other things a man and woman can do that skirt the line.
I’m still surveying the area when someone raps twice on the doorway. I spin around and find Jack blocking the light from the kitchen.
He moves toward me like a beast of prey, eyes locked on my body.