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“What?” he demands. “You’ve seen her?”
I clench my jaw as she is easily conjured in my mind. I’ve spent the last few days drinking non-stop just to get her face out of my head.
“Yeah,” I reply, running a hand down my face. “Something like that.”
* * *
I turnthe card over in my hands as I’ve been doing for the past hour. A glass of untouched whiskey sits in front of me beside my phone. Leaning forward, I down the glass and quickly dial the number on the card. It rings only twice before somebody answers it.
“Hello, Atlas. This is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ivor says.
“A girl was taken from my place on the night of the fight, and I need to know where she is,” I reply without preamble. There’s a short pause.
“A girl, I see.”
The thought of those eyes imploring me to help have haunted me, and now knowing that she’s been helping Jay out, I have to fucking try. She could be dead already.
“Have you reconsidered my offer?” he asks instead of answering me. “Women are, after all, one of the many perks of being a member.”
“I only want that woman,” I tell him firmly, and he chuckles.
“Having the woman you want is part of it, but it comes with a price.”
I resist the urge to sigh. I fucking hate these games, but know I’ll have to play if I’m going to do what Jay asked.
“Name it.”
I can hear him smile. “Why, your initiation, of course.”
12
Kinsey
Weak
I come backto myself slightly when two men take the towels from us and usher us through another door where I have to shield my eyes against the brighter lights. Mirrors are everywhere, as is enough makeup to fill an entire store.
I watch as the girls move to different spots around the room and begin to apply makeup and dry their hair. There’s no discussion, just steady movements.
It could have been the backstage of a show. Mirrors and lights with young and pretty girls masking themselves, putting on faces to hide their own from the world. Even the older furniture, the faded wallpaper, it all fits the image. I could almost trick myself, if not for the big men with guns at their belts watching our every move.
When I don’t move, one of them shoves me forward and nods toward an empty station. Stumbling, I manage to take a seat and dart a glance back at him, but he’s already chatting with the other man, clearly uninterested in what we’re doing.
“Just put on some makeup, not too heavy or light; think first date.”
The voice is so small I almost don’t hear it, a frown crossing my brow before I realize it's the girl next to me. She has long, light brown hair and a sweet face. She doesn’t turn her head, but her deep brown eyes meet mine in the mirror.
She must catch my frown because she nods lightly at me before turning her attention back to the foundation tray in front of her.
I reach my hand up to the table only to find it shaking. My lips tighten and I pull my hand back to my chest, darting one more glance behind me at the man who is still ignoring us. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply.
You can do this. You know how to act, how to pretend. Use it now. Get through this, and figure out how to get out.
When I open my eyes, I feel calmer.
Acceptance.
Or denial.
