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“At the very least, hook yourself to another Pater, and fast. They say Cynthia still can’t walk.”
I gripped the railing next to her, eyes traveling over the festive grounds.
She peered at me. “Something’s off.”
I turned. “What do you mean?”
“You were so eager to join. Desperate, even. But now that you’re here… Where’s the girl who wanted to get hurt? I would’ve thought you’d jump in with both feet, but I haven’t seen you with anyone. Now you’re acting like me playing rough is a sin. What’s your deal?”
I could lie. But I couldn’t look at Nicole’s face and put it off any longer.
“The truth is,” I said, taking a breath, “I’m more interested in you than them.”
“How flattering.”
I touched her arm. “Why areyouhere? You’re smart. Rebellious. I get the sex angle, and I know a person’s kinks aren’t their values, but—”
She laughed sharply. “Who told you that? Of course your kinks are your values. What the fuck else would they be?”
I stared at her battered face. “Then what does that say about you?”
Her voice was deadpan. “What do you think? That I’m fucking Miss America.”
I blinked.
She continued in that dry voice. “I’m doing exactly what the world taught me. Taking the slap, sayingthank you, more, please. The Paters want to tell me how worthless I am? Good. Everyone else is thinking it; they just don’t have the guts to say it out loud.”
“You mean…all that stuff about transformation through submission, becoming a better person, ascending to the truth—you don’t believe it?”
She snorted. “I believe the Paters are the only ones who are honest about how the world works. But no, I don’t think I’m going to ascend to some higher plane the longer I stay here.”
I shook my head. “Why not leave, then? Have a normal life.”
Her voice rose, and with it came an upstate accent, one I’d only heard hints of before, in sly, telltale words. “What kind of normal life haveyoubeen leading? My body’s been someone else’s since the day I was born. We’re communal property, baby.”
She laughed, and it wasn’t a nice sound. “Life’s going to stomp you no matter what. Wouldn’t you rather get stomped here, in a mansion, surrounded by champagne and hors d’oeuvres? If they’re going to own you one way or the other, why not enjoy it?Lean in, Shay. Look at me, in this Gucci dress. These bruises? They’re Gucci bruises. It’s the VIP option, trust me. All the other options are this, but worse.”
“I hear you on the fatalism, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re in real danger.”
“I’ve got it under control.”
Just like Angelo said:They always think they’re in control. I flung my hand at her face. “Really? Because that looks like the opposite of control.”
Her eyes blazed. “Try growing up in a single-wide with an alcoholic dad and a mom too scared to speak up. In swanky Munson, unemployment capital of New York, gray as shit twenty-four seven. Try living with sixty feet between you and the man who wants to hurt you.That’sthe opposite of control. And you want to know what finally changed it? My parents found religion. Bought in, hook, line, and sinker—church every day. And little naive Nicole, she thought,What a relief, surely things will get better. But it turns out the Bible says my body and soul belong to God, and he’s a greedy bastard, too, always wanting you on your knees. So it was just a passing of ownership. A title change. When I got old enough, ran away and fell in love, I thought,Okay, here it is, something I chose myself. But what owns you worse than love? What makes you more of a captive? I would’ve slit my wrists if that man told me to.”
She shook her head. “It’s the same story, everywhere you turn. Anyone who tells you different is blind or trying to sell you something. At least with the Paters, it’s out in the open. At least here I’m walking in with clear eyes. Loving your pain’s the only control you get.”
“That’s not true.” I faced the grounds and could see the Paters strolling, drinking, laughing, being whatever kind of people they wanted. “They’rein control. They’re free.”
“They’re men, for Christ’s sake. Don’t you understand how this works? What we’re doing isn’t kink, Shay. It’s plain life. It’s what everyone out in the world is doing, except without the layers of pretend. At least the Paters don’t lie.”
“They do,” I said. “Believe me. The Philosopher’s not someone you can trust.”
Nicole nodded, turning away for a moment; then she snapped back, jaw tight. “I just figured it out.” She laughed, so sudden it took me by surprise. “I recognize that evangelical glint in your eyes. You’re trying to save me.”
We stared at each other, Nicole with her gruesome smile, me with my heart pounding, wondering,Dare I?
I’d always known the investigation had an expiration date. I’d known the end would come eventually; that at some point, I would have to drop the pretense andact. Well, the sands were slipping through the hourglass faster and faster. It was time.
