Page 95 of Joey

I know this is wrong. I know this isn’t real. I know that I’m just falling back into the pattern I was taught when I was sixteen. When I was told by a complete stranger that I was his now. That I was his daughter, and we were a team, and we would travel places, and live places, and do things in these places. And I would love it.

And I did. I loved it. I loved him. And I miss him so fucking much it feels like I’m cracked in half. And that’s fine, I guess. Because when I think too hard about my life it makes sense.

We had this secret between us. Miklos and I. And that secret was our bond and even though I told Joey Boston this morning that secret bonds are the best and that’s what I wanted from him… they’re not.

Real bonds are the best. And real bonds can’t be bought, or stolen, or lied about.

I don’t know how to do real bonds. That first night I was kidnapped and Miklos was explaining his offer—which, looking back, makes no sense at all. Because what did he want from me? What? What could I have possibly have given him?

Doesn’t matter I guess. When he told me to keep the secret I knew I would. I knew I’d never tell. I knew I’d be loyal till the end.

I know I’m sick. I’ve always known. And I didn’t care then and I don’t care now.

I know these three men who hired me to lie and be their fake lover just so Joey could get his daughter back are feeding into that sickness inside me.

And Wald knows this too. That’s why he brought me down here.

It wasn’t to kiss me. Or take off my bra. Or squeeze my breasts or whatever comes next.

He wanted me alone so he could twist up my head and make me admit that I will do anything—that I will be anything they want.

As long as they are loyal to me, I will be loyal to them.

“Now lie back and open your legs,” Wald says. “Because I want more too.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - JOEY

I watch Wald take Brooke downstairs. Then I sit on the other set of stairs that lead up and hold my head in my hands. “It’s not gonna work,” I say. “It’s never going to work.”

“It’ll work,” Huck says, taking a seat next to me. The two of us barely fit on these steps, we’re so wide.

“No,” I say, rubbing my face. “They’re gonna see right through me.”

“So? What will they see?”

I look up. Find his face in the darkness. Wonder why everything always happens in the darkness. “They’re gonna see me,” I say. “That’s what they’ll see.”

“And?”

“It’s… kinda ugly.”

“Dude.” He laughs.

“I’m not talking about that and you know it. I’m not talking about how I look on the outside. Or on paper. I’m taking about who I am.”

“You don’t even know who you are,” Huck says.

A huff of a laugh escapes past my lips. “True. But I have a pretty good idea.”

I lean back against the staircase and Huck props his elbows on his knees and rests his chin on his fists.

Because he knows.

This man right here knows me better than anyone. Better than my brothers. Better than myself.

He runs his fingers through his hair so it’s sticking up and making shadows on the wall from some unknown light source. Probably from outside.

But I like the way he looks right now.