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Brittany scoffs. “Remember when the pipes rusted and Creepy Chris put those signs up saying that the ice couldn’t be consumed instead of getting the machines fixed? What the hell is the point of ice that you can’t put in your damn drinks?”
“Everything about Creepy Chris is useless.” Maria picks up the bucket and skirts past me to the door. “There isn’t enough money in the world to let him anywhere near me.”
I gingerly sit on the edge of the bed, taking the drink that Rhonda holds out to me. “Do you guys live here?”
“I rent a room for a couple of days at a time, just for work.” Tiffany takes a sip of her drink and grimaces slightly. “It’s not like I want any of these guys going home with me. And I’m getting too old to be doing business in cars.”
“Never let a john take you anywhere, too many girls get messed up that way,” Brittany adds, while the others make sounds of agreement. “We’ve got a good thing going here because we follow a few simple rules: No drugs. No pimps. No bringing around boyfriends. And don’t forget to set aside ten percent to pay off the cops.”
I nearly joke on my drink. “You pay the police?”
Brittany seems unbothered by my horrified expression. “If there is a more crooked force than Drumville’s finest, I have yet to see it. Luckily, most of them are happy with a cut of business and not anything else.”
It shouldn’t surprise me to discover that the cops in town are dirty, but knowing these women have to pay them bribes on already risky work just makes it worse. “That’s disgusting.”
“That’s life. Things could be worse.” Tiffany raises her cup in a mock salute before draining it. “You’ve got a fresh face, take advantage of that while it lasts. You barely look old enough to drive, much less be on your own out here.”
“You might be surprised,” I respond drily. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve lived about a thousand years.”
Rhonda reaches for another bag of chips. “I’m sensing problems with a man.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Am I that easy to read?”
Tiffany gives a rueful laugh and shakes her head. “You’re a young, pretty girl staying in a seedy motel by herself. Man problems are pretty much the only reason something like that happens.”
Chantel speaks for the first time since I came in the room. She looks like the youngest person in the room after me, her brunette hair done up in pigtails tied with pink ribbon. But her voice comes out huskier than I expect, like she’s been smoking a pack of cigarettes every day since kindergarten. “Keep that innocence for as long as you can. It’s easy to lose it around here.”
I blurt out a response without even thinking about it. “I’m not that innocent.”
“And now Britney Spears lyrics are stuck in my head,” Rhonda replies drolly. “You don’t have to prove anything to us, but running away from home because your parents don’t like your boyfriend doesn’t mean you’ve seen it all.”
“My parents actually kicked me out when I was sixteen.” I take a moment to enjoy the surprise on her face before continuing. “I went to juvie for the first time when I was eleven, so I guess you can’t exactly blame them for washing their hands of me. My record is far from spotless.”
Rhonda’s expression is still dubious. “Did you steal lipstick from a department store, or something?”
“I’ve shoplifted before because who hasn’t. Chain stores make that shit too easy. But my first charge was for assault.”
A hush falls over the room, all of them reacting with shocked silence.
Finally, Tiffany lets out a low whistle. “Guess we have a little badass in our midst.”
I shake my head, suddenly annoyed at myself for bringing it up. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. “No, not really.”
Rhonda just studies me, a genuinely curious expression on her face. “What happened?”
I don’t exactly make it a habit to share family secrets with strangers, but I find myself inexplicably willing to tell them the truth. It isn’t as if I’m going to meet any of them again after this. And who else would have a better understanding of the darkness that hides in the human soul.
“My uncle lived with us for a few years when my sister and I were kids. My parents spent a lot of evenings out in those days, going to charity events or into the city for shows, so he was alone with us a lot at night. Gary is younger than my father and he was that cool uncle that lets you eat candy before bed and stay up too late watching scary movies. He really liked the scary movies. The house creaked a lot and when I’d tell my parents that I heard footsteps outside the door at night, they always blamed it on my imagination because Gary let us watch too many horror movies. Looking back, I wonder if he did that on purpose.”
My hands shake as I remember things I spent a lot of time trying to forget. Guilt eats at me like acid boiling in my stomach as I recall all the warning signs that I ignored.
“My sister wanted to share a bedroom, but I insisted on having my own. Even as a kid, I always wanted to have my own space. When I think about it now, I wonder if she was trying to tell me something, but I was too young and stupid to figure it out. She was always the quiet one, the one who never complained. Our parents loved that. But it’s probably why he picked her.”
“Jesus,” Rhonda murmurs, voice barely loud enough for me to hear.
I make myself keep talking, even as I feel my mind going back to that moment as if I’m standing in the doorway all over again. “I’d heard her crying at night before, but I knew she was afraid of the dark. I’m not sure what made me get out of bed and go to her room this time. When I opened the door, Uncle Gary was on top of her in the bed and…and he was holding her down.”
Tiffany’s voice is soft. “You don’t have to…”
