Thirty Nights with a Dirty Boy: Part 3: A Heroes and Heartbreakers Serial (8 page)

“My baby,” she said, her voice choked and hushed.

“Hardly.” I looked around. Seeing no better option, I took the chair across from hers. Tom took the one between us.

Two guards remained in the room, but they appeared to be bored. My mother was in a medium-security facility. I doubted she was considered much of a risk. Or at least I would have doubted it, before I’d seen her. But something told me she’d learned how to adapt inside these walls. I guess you had to, when you wanted to survive in prison.

She lowered her head, and by the way her shoulders rose and fell, I guess I was supposed to think she was struggling to control herself.

She wasn’t.

I don’t even know how I was so certain. I just was. She was trying to play me.

“Why don’t you just tell me what you want?” I said, settling back in my chair. “I’m already bored, just looking at you.”

“You must be so angry with me. You must hate me so much.”

Those words hit me, and I almost agreed with her, but then I stopped to consider them. Surprising myself, I said quietly, “No. I don’t hate you. You just … don’t matter to me.”

She shot me a look.

Something told me that I’d surprised her, too.

Leaning forward, I braced my elbows on the table and stared at her. “I let fear control my entire life,
Mother.
I didn’t let people touch me. I didn’t let people get to know me. I lived trapped inside a prison of my own making—one that allowed me not much more freedom than you have here. And what did I do to deserve it?”

I laughed mockingly. “I wasn’t the one who prostituted a young child on video for the sick pleasures of others.”

“We
never
—”

“You never
sold
me for the actual act. But you sold the fantasy. On video.” Curling my lip at her, I leaned in. “I don’t
remember,
and I thank God for that.”

I could see the next argument forming in her eyes, and I smiled, surprised at the hardness that I found buried inside me. I think it had been there for a long time. I’d just never let myself look, never let myself find it. Now, though, I all but bathed in it and let it show in my eyes. Her lids flickered.

“I’ve seen one of the videos …
Mother.
” I threw the word at her.

She flinched.

“You dressed me up like some stupid doll, and while I was strung out on those drugs you put in my food, you stripped me naked, posed me. You and that snake who spawned me—”

She surged upright. “Don’t you
dare
speak about him like that!”

“Oh, you’re right.”

One of the guards moved closer, making sure my mother saw him. I looked over at him, shaking my head. I don’t think it mattered much. I hoped she could hold it together, though. I didn’t realize until now how much I needed to say these things to her.

“You see, a snake isn’t a bad thing. I don’t think there are
words
for creatures like you and him.”

“Bitch.” She rasped it out. “He’s dead because of you.”

“He’s dead because even scum in prison don’t tolerate monsters like him. That’s not my fault.” I looked around the visiting room where we were and clicked my tongue. “You were smarter, managed to get protection or something, and you survived. That’s not my fault, either. You put yourself on this path. However it started, when you two decided to use me as a
thing,
forgetting that I was a child? You were headed this way ever since.”

Her face was red, shoulders heaving.

I leaned back in the seat once more. There was a weight gone from me. I hadn’t realized how long I’d carried that weight. Slowly, I breathed out, then in. Despite the ever-present ache that had lived in my heart since Sean had told me to get out of his apartment, I felt …
good.
I felt free.

I was going to be okay.

Maybe I wouldn’t be happy. Not for a while yet, at least. I’d try to find a way to make myself happy sooner or later, but I was
free.

“What are you smiling about?” Evelyn glared at me with hatred in her eyes.

“Because I’m done with you. For so long, you and he were the monsters in my closet. Not anymore.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” She smoothed her hands back over her short cap of hair, then shook herself slightly, almost like a dog shaking the water from its fur. “I tried to do this the nice way, but you clearly had to go and be a brat about it. You always were a brat, kid. Even then. So, we’ll do it the hard way.”

Ignoring the guards, she leaned forward. “I need money. My account here is almost gone. Nora is gone, so that cold bitch can’t add anything to the kitty. Either you … help me out … or I’ll have to figure it out on my own. I got another six months before I’m up for parole. I’ll probably get out this time, but I need money to set myself up when I’m out.”

“I’m not giving you jack.”

“Yeah.” She tapped her nails on the surface of the table, smirking at me. “You are. Otherwise, I’m going to start reaching out to some contacts I’ve made. I’ve put out feelers, sweetheart. Plenty of people would
love
to hear about the past of the mysterious
Ella Cruise.
”

She dropped my name down and waited.

I just laughed. “Do you think I’m surprised you know my name? And is this where you make the threat to come clean with some tell-all book, proclaiming how sorry you are?” Gesturing to the ever present security cameras, I said, “I wonder how easily people will believe you after I bribe somebody to get me a copy of that video.”

Her face went white.

“But here’s the deal … the first thing I’m doing when I leave here is contacting a news anchor I’m on good terms with. I’m done hiding in the closet. I’ll set up a time, and within twenty-four hours, my face … and your name … will be all over the news.”

Her hands closed around the edge of the table. “Wait.”

“No.” Shaking my head, I stood up. “I’m done … Mother. You picked a very, very bad time to try this.”

“You fucking
bitch!
You do this and I’ll be dead within a week. I don’t have the money to…” She stopped and sucked in a breath.

I looked over at Tom.

He lifted a shoulder. “She should probably talk to the warden, see about getting transferred into solitary for the time being.”

“Then I’d suggest you do it, Evelyn.” I gave the guards a polite nod. One of them had an odd look on his face, like he was trying not to smile.

We left.

By the time we got to the door, I was shaking so hard, I couldn’t even open it. Tom took care of it, and I almost stumbled outside into the cool, clean air. Sucking in a breath, I focused on the car ahead.

Paul was beside it, waiting.

There was a worried look on his face.

I focused on him.

And I smiled.

Chapter 8

“Yes, Stacia … yes, that should work. Ten a.m. at my home.”

I disconnected and looked up, found Paul watching me in the rearview mirror. The light ahead was red. Tom looked far calmer than Paul did.

“Are you sure about this, Miss Ella?” Paul said.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I think I need to.”

“Why now?” Tom asked, drawing my attention to him.

I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I’m not sure. Perhaps because she made the threat.” I smoothed at an imaginary wrinkle in the neat skirt of the pale gray suit I’d worn. Pale gray. Tomorrow’s outfit was pale blue. Last week had been a mix of pale rose, peach, pink, silver, and green. Most of my wardrobe was a mix of pastels or simple taupe or black. Everything designed to blend in or fade away.

“I need to go shopping,” I decided. “I want all new clothing.”

Tom arched a brow.

I plucked at the skirt of my suit. “I’m tired of dressing like I should be part of the wallpaper. Does that sound stupid?”

“No, Ella. It does not.”

I nodded haltingly and went back to staring out the window. “She’ll talk. Sooner or later. I’d rather be the one in control. And … I’m tired. I’m tired of worrying that somebody will find out and I’ll be blindsided. I’m tired of being
ashamed.
”

He reached out then and covered my hand. “You understand this—I know that. But I have to tell you. You did
nothing
wrong. It was something terrible that happened
to
you. You were a child, and you did nothing to deserve it or invite it. You have no reason to feel ashamed.”

“Yes, I know..” Despite the knot in my throat, I managed to smile. I even managed to keep my voice steady as I responded. “I do know. Still, it helps to hear it. Sometimes, what’s up here…,” I tapped my head, then lowered my hand to my heart, “and what’s in here don’t always get the same messages. The reminders help.”

“I’ll remind you weekly, should you feel it’s necessary.”

I laughed. “Sure. Put it on the calendar.” Leaning my head on the padded headrest, I drew in a series of calming breaths. “I can stop freaking out if I do this. It will be in my hands. I make the decisions. I’m in control.”

“The media will go nuts.”

I lifted a shoulder. “I won’t be here for long.”

“Have you decided where you want to go?”

“Scotland.” It was stupid. It was downright foolish, really. But I wanted to go. I had a longing to spend some time in a little cottage somewhere in the Highlands. To lose myself and do nothing but read and be lazy. I thought maybe I’d earned it.

I’d take some time and try to heal.

“You’re still wanting to go by the brownstone, Miss Ella?” Paul asked from the front seat.

“Yes.” I plucked again at the listlessly colored skirt. “After that, we’re going shopping, Paul.”

“Of course.”

Tom looked up at the word
shopping.
For a moment, I’d forgotten about him. “Buy something in a strong color for tomorrow. Not red. I’d go with a vivid green or blue.”

I met his eyes. “Why not red?”

“People associate red with power. It’s not necessarily a bad statement to make, but in this instance, you want a different statement. Green or blue are strong colors, but they don’t have as much of a visual impact.”

“Okay.” I nodded. It didn’t matter, really, what color I wore, as long as it wasn’t
pastel.

“Would you like me to help you prepare a statement?”

“Yes. I think that might be a wise idea.”

Tom and I spent the next ninety miles going over what I wanted to cover and the details I wanted to avoid. He thought it was wise to segue into how my history and Nora’s care of me led to my desire to help others, and thus, Nora’s Door was born. “People will want to hug you and help you and support you all at the same time. They’ll look at you and see the damaged girl and the strong woman, all at once.”

“I’m not…”

“You don’t like the word
damaged.
” Tom nodded. “I don’t blame you. But that child was a victim. You’re not her anymore. You’re stronger now than you were when we last met just a few months ago. People need to see both sides, Ella. It will give hope to those who’ve been where you were.”

“I don’t want to be a symbol,” I muttered.

“You already are.” He glanced out the window. “We’re at my stop.”

As Paul brought the car to an idle, Tom gave me one last, lingering look. “You still have time to back out, Ella. Nobody will think less of you.”

“
I
would.”

*   *   *

I had Paul stop.

While I ran into the chain clothing store, he called both my realtor and Sheila, letting them know I’d been delayed slightly.

I hadn’t been in a place like this in … well, ever. I occasionally shopped at Saks, but most of my clothing was custom-made. It was actually kind of fun, really, grabbing a pair of jeans and a couple of T-shirts and carrying them into the fitting room.

The jeans fit me far more snugly than what I usually wore.

So did the T-shirts.

I kept them anyway.

When I peeked out, there was a sales associate. “Would I be able to wear these out?”

She looked a little puzzled, then shrugged. “If you let me get you rung up right away, I don’t see why not.”

I nodded and carried my purse with me.

I also left my clothes behind.

If anybody wanted them, they were welcome to them.

After I bought the jeans and both of the T-shirts I’d tried on, I made a quick stop by the shoe department and bought a pair of flip-flops. I’d never worn a pair in my life, and I found myself smiling at the sound they made as I left the store.

Paul did a double take when he saw me, and then he smiled. “Well, Miss Ella. You don’t look much older than my niece, and she’s just barely started college.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” I grinned and impulsively hugged him.

He hugged me back, and I sighed at how easy it was to stand there and let him do it.

I felt
free.

If it wasn’t for that dull, lingering ache …

Sean.

Easing back, I pasted a smile on my face. “Let’s get this stupid realtor thing done with. I really, really want to go shopping …
really
shopping. And I still have to buy my plane ticket, and now I’ll have to unpack and start all over again.”

*   *   *

I stared up at the brownstone.

The
For Sale
sign in front of it flooded me with trepidation.

The certainty I’d felt had faded, and now I wanted to turn and run. The B&B where Sean was now employed wasn’t far. I could run there. Find him. Demand that he …

“That he what?” I whispered to myself.

That he love me back?

That he trust me?

That he see the same things in me that I saw in him?

I couldn’t do that.

Woodenly, I took one step toward the house. Paul came along at my back. He’d already told me he’d be coming inside, and I hadn’t seen the point in arguing. There wasn’t one.

As we walked, I hitched my purse up over my shoulder. Nervous for some reason, I started to babble. “I should have bought a different purse. This one looks silly with blue jeans and a T-shirt.” I looked down at the bright blue shirt, emblazoned with a giant
A,
circled. It hit me then what the
A
was for.
Avengers.
With a weak laugh, I said, “I grabbed an
Avengers
T-shirt.”