I feel the heft of the glass in my hand, see all the twinkling lights and smell the intoxication of the room. I hate these people. I hate this situation. I hate Dave and I hate myself. I'm ready. I down my drink, hold out my glass and slam it to the floor.
The glass shatters on impact and causes the room to stop and look. I shake the shards off the bottom of my pants and Dave nods.
“That's what I'm talkin' 'bout.”
We turn and the same guy from the stairs is moving toward us, looking between me and the glass. He wants answers or he'll bust my head. I know the look. I step to the right, to clear space and watch his body. If I time it, he'll be plating his right foot at the moment we connect. One, two, three . . . I jam my knee into his crotch and press him away from me with one hand on his neck and the other his ribs. He topples and groans. I expect someone else to take his place, but no one comes after me. Dave and I hit the stairs and my body pumps with adrenaline.
“Nice work,” Dave mumbles out of the side of his mouth, and we ascend the stairs. I don't look back. What's the point?
The second floor is a series of hallways, and Dave directs me to the right. At the end of the hall stands another guy outside a door. The strap around his chest means one thing, and my heart flutters. Maybe this is why no one came after me; Dave is leading me to him. The guy reaches up, balls his fist, and knocks on the door to his right. He then touches his ear. “Go on in.”
I hold my breath as I walk past and we enter an enormous office, filled with leather couches, a stone fireplace, and a huge
wooden desk. Behind it sits one grizzled-looking motherfucker.
“Welcome, boys. Have a seat.” Johnny B's voice is charred, like he's either smoked for a lifetime or someone tried to take out his throat. I look for the scar as I sit. He watchers us both, his eyes dancing beneath his short-cropped hair and ice-blue eyes. They settle on me. “So you're the new muscle?”
I open my mouth to answer, but cannot think of what to say, so just shrug.
Johnny B laughs, and it sounds like wood being sanded. “Nice choice, Dave. He looks like fucking Pinocchio but took out Heinrich without missing a beat.”
How the fuck does he know that? But then I see the set of monitors behind him.
“I know what I'm doin'.” Dave's voice is oiled and confident. It's somehow settling.
“You certainly do.” Johnny smiles. “As does the rest of your organization. Word is that you're hitting record numbers this year.”
“A lot of new people have found us and our charitable work. Times are hard, so we're glad to be there for them.” Dave swirls the contents of his glass.
The vodka has already shot to my head. So maybe it's that, or maybe it's the tension in the room, but whichever it is, I have no fucking clue what they're talking about.
“We have one last push as the new year approaches.” Dave no longer sounds like the douche he always is. He's all business, but controlled, calm. I wonder which one is the real him? Maybe neither.
“And that's all lined up?” Johnny B sits forward.
“All that's left is for me to pick up the care packages.”
“Charity work is so rewarding.”
My head swims again, but based on the way their faces are pulled tight, like at any moment they might slip and say the wrong thing, I understand that this must be code. “It's what keeps us going. Do you need any help with the gift baskets?”
“We've got that covered. Come, see.” Johnny B stands and crosses to the windows behind his desk. As he does, Dave stands and shoots me a look and juts his chin toward the bag. I stand and position myself so I can see the door, the bag, and through the window. I'm wobbly on my feet, though. Johnny B waves over his shoulder and Dave joins him.
“The Mustang, right?” Johnny B points out the window and in the distance Dave's car is visible.
“Yeah.” Dave's voice wavers. I bet he doesn't know what the fuck's going on. Shit. I look around for another door out of here.
Johnny B turns to Dave. “Something wrong?”
“No. I just don't understand.”
“Watch.” As he speaks two men emerge from the shadow, each carrying a box twice the size of what I held, and move to the back of Dave's car.
“It's locked.” Again, Dave's voice is hollow.
Johnny B chuckles.
One of the men sets down his box, fishes in his pocket, and pulls something out. He puts it against the lock, twists, and the trunk pops open. The two then deposit their boxes into the trunk and walk away.
“And now you have the care packages.” Johnny B grins, but Dave continues to stare ahead, out the window. Johnny B looks at me, and I do my best to keep my face expressionless. “Something up, Dave? Do you need to see the packages to ensure the order?”
Dave returns from wherever he was and smiles. “No,
that's not necessary. You know our motto.”
Johnny B smiles a full-toothed grin, now, slaps Dave's back, and returns to his desk. “I do. But as you know, I only believe in half of it.”
Dave returns to his seat and I take my own. My head's still drifting, but I'm getting used to it. Dave picks up the bag and lays it on the desk. “You don't have to agree, so long as we're both happy.” He unzips the bag to reveal stacks of cash.
Johnny B runs a hand through and mutters as he touches each stack. He tilts his head. “Isn't there a bit more than we agreed?”
Dave smiles. “And?”
Johnny stares for a long moment. “
And
, why is that?”
My skin feels pinpricked. If this goes wrong, I'm grabbing the poker by the fireplace. Dave can fend for himself.
“Consider it an early Christmas gift,” Dave says.
Johnny B gets up, walks around his desk, and Dave stands. I watch his body. He's ready for an attack, but Johnny's loose. He reaches out and pulls Dave into him. They embrace, but when they release, Johnny B keeps a hand around Dave's neck. “Remember, I've got a little something for you, too.” Dave lowers his head and Johnny continues. “I remember what you liked the last time. You'll have to give me your impression, brand-new as she is.”
Dave's smile widens and the devilish shine I'm so familiar with returns to his eyes. “Will do.”
Johnny B looks at me. “Don't worry, Pinocchio, I won't leave you out.” He looks me over, head to toe. “Maybe you'd like two. Could tell them some lies.”
Dave and Johnny B explode with laughter and I shake my head. I fully understand him but don't want to. He can keep his gifts.
“Come.” Johnny waves us along and Dave follows, no longer checking if I'm performing my duties. We walk down the hall and turn into the other at the top of the stairs. A couple of the men from the party are on their way up, each with a girl on his arm. Another is on his way down, smiling. Johnny B stops to meet the men.
“Gentlemen, so glad you could make it.” He looks at the girls, and his eyes go hard. “I trust that you've got what you've come for.”
The men laugh and one answers, “Almost.”
Johnny B smiles and pats their backs. “You will.” The couples move on and each goes into a separate room down the hall. I look behind me, and the thug from the door has taken position behind us. I never saw him move. Some muscle I am.
“Dave, you will find your present through the last door on the right. I promise not to watch.”
Dave shrugs. “Don't matter to me.” He sounds more like himself, and the change makes my skin crawl.
“Enjoy.”
Dave heads for the door like a dog after a rabbit. He doesn't pause before going in, doesn't even knock. The door clicks shut and Johnny B turns to me. My head drifts even worse than before. Char was in one of these rooms.
“I don't know your taste, but considering who you're with, I think I have an idea.” He smiles and I want to punch him so hard that he chokes on my fist. But I pin back my shoulders to look the part. “Let's have you take the room next to Dave. Hopefully you'll have as good a time as he will.” Johnny B extends his hand but does not touch me, which I'm grateful for, because I don't know if I could have controlled myself. I nod and walk to the door, place my hand on the handle,
and hear a rustling from within. I can also hear Dave's muffled voice. I swallow and understand just how far down I've gone. The doorknob spins and I enter the room.
A lamp in the far corner is the only light in the room, but the girl on the bed is visible. She stands and wobbles on high heels to me.
“I'm Violet.” She extends her hand and I take it. Her skin is cold and I feel a tremor just under the surface. My throat knots, but she asks, “Would you like to sit down?”
I would. I'd like to sit and get my head together. Or sit and fall asleep and wake up and have never been here. My head's a mess with the million thoughts swimming through and I might spew that drink. I fall onto the bed without answering.
Through the wall I hear Dave. “Yeah! There we go!”
I cross my arms over my ears. Just like at home. Violet sits next to me. “You feelin' okay?” I roll over and she slides back. “You gonna hurl?”
I laugh. I don't know why, but something about her voice, how normal it sounds in this completely fucked-up situation is hilarious. I let go of my temples. “No, I'm not going to hurl.”
She moves closer to me and opens the little silk robe she's wearing. Underneath, she's naked and her tits are perky and full. Her skin's soft and smooth and there's not a hair to be found on her pussy. I stare and my cock rises. But in the same moment I hear a hard slap through the wall, followed by Dave's voice, “Yeah, that's how you like it, right bitch?”
My face drifts from Violet to the wall and burns.
“Is that what you want?” Her voice is like a child's, and I can't bear to look at her. All I can see is home. Cameron and my mother, and all of the rest of the men who beat her. And Charity the way we found her that night. I drop my head and shake it.
“No, that's not what I want.”
Violet's breath catches and a small, relieved sigh emerges. I feel her warmth next to me and can smell her perfume and know if I wanted to I could just turn and have her. She is a thousand times hotter than any girl who's given me some play, but I don't want her. Not like this. I am ashamed for her, and for who I have become.
I look up and her lips part in anticipation.
“Did you know Charity?”
Her expression stays excited, but now searches my face, maybe wondering if I'm joking. She pushes back from me. “Are you talkin' 'bout the Charity who was here?”
I nod and don't take my eyes off hers. She knows.
Violet turns. “Well, yeah, but only a little. She was Johnny's, not like us. He kept her.”
The vision of Johnny B and Charity lying on a bed together clouds my vision. Was he grooming her to be one of these girls? Or was she a pet for him? My revulsion deepens.
Another slap comes through the wall and Violet and I look toward it. “You know the guy in there?”
I nod and lick my lips, which are dry and cracked. “Unfortunately.”
“So why you wanna know about Charity?”
“It's hard to explain, but I know her and well . . . she's different now.”
Violet sighs. “Of course she is. Who wouldn't be?” She pauses for a moment, and I'm glad the silence isn't filled with anything from the other side of the wall. “You don't sound into this, so why you here, anyway?”
I close my eyes and lean back. I would love nothing more than to unburden myself on this girl, just release all that I'm holding in, but I'm not stupid. She doesn't feel sorry for me;
she's just working an angle. Possibly so she can tell Johnny B a story about why we aren't fucking, since I'm sure he's watching. I don't blame her.
A girl's scream peals, followed by Dave's voice. “Yeah! Let me hear that again!” The girl obliges, and I open my eyes.
Violet inches closer. “It's all right, she's used to it. We all are.” She runs a hand around my ear and along my jaw. Her words tickle, but I'm not soothed. I'm lying here in my sweat-dried gear, smelling like fuck, slightly drunk, and looking deranged. And this girl doesn't give a shit about any of that, just wants to get paid. Fuck that. I stand and she topples behind me.
There's more yelling next door.
I look from the wall to Violet. She's on her side, watching me like I'm playing some game she hasn't quite figured out. “I'm not down with this.”
She sits up. “I can drown him out. I've got music.” She goes to stand, but I move in front of her.
“No, just stay where you are.”
She looks at my crotch. “Oh, so that's what you want.” Her hands move to my zipper, and I swat them away. “No.”
“Here it comes, bitch. Oh yeah.”
I put a hand to Violet's lips to silence her, and we both listen to Dave finish.
“Is that what gets you off?”
I look at her and can't kept help but wonder how many fucked-up scenarios she's fulfilled. I want out of this room. “No, I'm just not feeling all right.”
She sighs. “Fine, but I don't get paid if we don't do nuthin'.”
“I'll lie, tell Johnny B that's what I wanted.”
She pouts but nods.
I take a step toward the door and listen. I'm not walking
out until after Dave has left. No way I can deal with seeing him right after.
“You waitin' till he leaves?”
“Yeah.”
Violet laughs. “Don't want him to think you weren't a stud, huh?”