Chapter Fifty-Six Huckleberry
My hands sweat as I wait for Jack to arrive. I’ve already reserved the room, showered, and pulled on a pair of snug jeans. Even my hot pink wig is in place.
The Punk Girl with spiky black hair, Amy, is watching me with interest.
“Tonight the night, Cinderella?” she asks.
I rub my damp hands on my jeans and stare at the ceiling.
“Yeah, it is.” She laughs and elbows the girl next to her. The other girl makes a crude gesture with her mouth and hand, and the two crow harder.
Marie comes in and sees that two of her girls are heckling me. She smiles and says, as if I asked for her help, “They’re not going to treat you any differently than they were treated.”
“I don’t expect to be treated differently.”
Marie cocks her head. “How’d you move up so quickly anyway? You got a magic vagina?”
Amy slaps her knee and bends at the waist, howling. Then she shoots upright. “Nah, that’s not it. Look at that face she’s hiding. Men want to wreck her. She’s got that scared, skinny, victimized thing going on. Makes them want to rescue and ravage her at once.”
I curl into myself, imagining what they’re saying is true. Is that all it comes down to? Men like Jack want to steal that fragile innocence away? If so, I wish I could spoil the surprise. Whisper that I’ve helped end a half dozen men’s lives as I bring him to completion. Maybe I will.
Wilson taps his fingers inside my brain, waiting. I won’t let him come out and play. Not tonight. Every time he raises his voice, I push him back down. Last night I wanted him close, but I’ve decided that this is my battle, and I need to do it alone.
I rub at the six written on the back of my hand. It would be harder to move up here than in the main house. Glad that’s not a concern anymore. I’m still rubbing circles over my hand when Jack arrives. He’s wearing a charcoal gray suit that has him sweating like a pig on the spit. He’s carrying limp red roses in his hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. I almost feel a twinge of sympathy over the look of excitement on his face.
Until I remember that he basically wants to buy me off someone. And that he doesn’t find that problematic. And that he is a thirty-one-year-old man bringing flowers and sinful expectations to a seventeen-year-old girl in a desperate situation.
The sweat on my palms breaks out across my entire body as he moves toward me. He takes my hand and, without asking if I’m ready, directs us toward our tiny room across the kitchen. A laundry room. A place where things are cleaned and reused.
Jack puts the roses and champagne in the hall, already forgotten. “I brought your money,” he says, withdrawing an envelope from his pocket. “Had to sell my father’s guitar to get it.” I peek inside and see tight green bills. My heart picks up when I realize this is really happening. Jack doesn’t seem to have the same hesitation, because he tucks the money away and leads me toward the bed.
“Tell me you can’t wait until I take you away from here,” he says against my neck.
“I can’t wait,” I whisper.
He runs his hand under the back of my shirt. “Tell me you’ve wanted me from the first day you saw me.”
“You know I have.”
“Say it.”
“I’ve wanted you.”
I am a puppet playing Simon Says.
Kiss me like you mean it.
Ha, ha! You didn’t say “Simon says.”
His lips move up my neck and toward my mouth. Two thousand dollars. That’s my price. No, my price is freedom. My price is enough money to get my friends to safety. To find help for girls being kept in cells. To give two stiff middle fingers to Madam Karina.
Jack’s mouth is warm against mine, but I can’t bring myself to close my eyes. He forgot to close the door. I can see his face in the kitchen light, clenched like he’s constipated, as he gropes my chest.
Maybe I could steal the money from him and run without going through with this, I think in desperation. Hit him over the head with that bottle he brought and use the few seconds I have to grab Poppet and Cain and run, baby, run.
Even as I think this, I know it’s stupid. I’d never have enough time. I have to do this.
I concentrate on the end game as my pulse races and dizziness overwhelms my senses. He smells like aftershave and tastes of Angie’s peppermints. I focus on this and not the fact that his hand is sliding between my knees.
“Tell me you like this,” he says.
“I like this.”
He pauses. “Tell me you love me.”
A chill races down my back. I won’t say it. I won’t. I’m not sure why this is the line I won’t cross, but it’s like a fault line that can’t be disturbed. Should I attempt it, earthquakes would rumble the house. Aftershocks would bring down the roof.
“Don’t ever leave me,” I try, hoping that’ll suffice.
He bites the tender flesh above my collarbone. “Tell me you love me.”
I shake my head, and tears spring to my eyes. He’s crazy. We’ve spent mere hours together, and he thinks I could love him that quickly? He thinks I could love him at all? Jack’s hands slide down my arms until he finds my wrists. He pulls them up and over my head.
“You want to tease me?” he says playfully. “Well, I know just what to do with that.”
Dread rumbles in my blood as he releases my wrist and strides toward the door, peeling off his suit jacket and shirt as he moves.
“Jack,” I say in a whimper.
I hate the sound of my voice. The pleading tone that silently begs him to give me the money, no strings attached. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, isn’t that what they say? My body begins to shake, and I cry openly.
“Shhh,” he says, closing the door. “Don’t be sad. I’m not leaving.”
When I see him move toward me—completely ignorant of my distress—is the moment I snap. I can’t do this. Not for any amount of money. Not for any amount of freedom. Because this isn’t freedom. Cain is right, if I do this, I’ll become one of Madam Karina’s girls. No matter how far away I get.
I’ve already let Jack kiss me. But I won’t let this go any further.
I stand up. “I can’t do this.”
“You’re scared I won’t come back,” he says soothingly. “But I will. You don’t have to worry.”
“No, Jack. I don’t want to be with you. I thought I could, but…”
“You thought you could?” The confusion that crosses Jack’s face swiftly morphs into sadness. He shakes his head once. Twice. Three times. A thousand times, trying to figure out my sudden change of heart. “You thought you could because I was going to pay you?”
I don’t respond.
“Do you want to leave with me?”
“Jack…”
He sighs, shrugs. “No. You don’t want to leave with me. You want to leave with you.”
I expect him to exit the room. Or to yell. Or to report me to Mr. Hodge. But instead, he takes a single step in my direction. “And what if I said no? What if I told you that you don’t know what you want? Young girls seldom do.”
This isn’t going to end well. I look at his stance, at the way he’s blocking the door.
“Come here, Domino, and give me what you promised.”
I back up, my knees hitting the edge of the mattress.
Wilson?!
Here! I’m here!
Jack reaches out, slowly at first. As if he expects I’ll come to him easily. Realize my mistake in rejecting him. When I dodge his hand, the sadness on his face changes, slowly, slowly. The anger twisting his face is so unnerving my head spins.
And then—
Jack grabs my wig and rips my head toward him. His other hand covers my mouth.
Terror seizes every muscle in my body. I was prepared to give myself to Jack. But not like this. Never like this. He lifts me up and throws me onto the bed. My back hits the mattress, and I cry out against the springs.
Did I ask for this?
Have I made Jack into this monster?
No! Wilson answers inside my mind. No, no, no, no, no!
Jack reaches down and tears my shirt with the hand that held my hair. The other remains over my mouth. I cry out against his clenched fingers.
Say the words, Wilson pleads, leaping around inside my head. Say them, Domino!
I won’t be able to stop you, though.
Wilson pulls his hair out. We don’t have a choice!
Jack tells me not to scream. Uncovers my mouth and reaches for my waist. But I do scream, and when I do, he delivers a blow to my cheek so hard the world spins. Fear shadows his face, like he’s surprised at his own assault. He reaches for me gently as if he can make it better. That’s when I scream a second time.
Jack tackles me, both hands pushing down on my mouth so hard I think he’ll break my jaw.
Where are the other Lilies?
Why isn’t anyone coming?
Domino, Wilson says. His voice is so reasonable. So reassuring. Let him take over. That’s all I have to do. But I have to be level-headed enough to get us out of here, too. And if Wilson takes over, there’s no telling what will happen.
So I make a decision.
I bite down on Jack’s fingers.
He hollers and tears his hand away from my mouth.
“Wilson!” I yell over Jack’s complaints. “Help me!”
Wilson steps firmly into my mind, cracks his neck, sets his gaze on Jack. So you want to play rough, tough guy? Well then, I’m your huckleberry.