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A single tear escapes at his show of comfort. Kratos isn’t someone you would look at and expect that from, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t touch something inside of me. I move to wipe it away. Maybe if I’m quick enough, the others won't notice.
“It’s okay to feel things, Jade.” Spencer says from behind me at the table. That causes me to freeze, my hand halfway to my face before I drop it and let that single tear be.
I pull in a shaky breath before I turn away from Kratos and face the guys at the table again. His hand drops from my shoulder. I expect to see judgment in their eyes or, at the very least, pity, but I find neither. Instead, each of them looks at me with varying emotions, from anger to concern, and I realize sharing with them hasn’t made me weaker. Instead, it only helped them understand me, which might not be as bad as I thought.
“After that, I made it my mission to be what Ashlynn was to me for the other girls. Every single person I’ve killed was a monster, and they deserved to be put down.” My words come out strong and sure. I’m grateful because I feel anything but at the moment.
“That’s what they meant when they said you take care of them?” Zander asks, and I give him a nod as my eyes go to the list where it now sits on the table.
“It didn’t happen overnight, and I failed a few of them, but eventually, I got the hang of it. But I had to be highly sought after to be there for them, so I became the best.” I lift my chin and roll my shoulders, standing tall and confident, as I remind myself who I am. What I’ve worked to be. I’m not a scared little girl anymore. No, now I’m the monster that goes bump in the night.
“Everyone who knows anything about skin trade knows my name. My price tag became the highest in the business; as such, I had reach all over the city. It kept me in the trade because who wants to sell off their most lucrative product when they can lease it and make money over and over? Keeping me in this life meant I was able to help more girls.” This is the easier part of this conversation for me. When I was younger, they thought they could break, use and abuse me. They were wrong.
I gave myself to this life. I use my body as a weapon, and sex is something I know how to wheel and deal with. With the cards I was dealt, I will use whatever leg up I can get.
“You put yourself through all of this on purpose?” Roderick says, and it’s hard to miss the anger in his voice.
“As opposed to what exactly?” My own anger bleeds into my voice to match his. “Leave them to fend for themselves? They are children, little girls like Charlotte!” My voice rises an octave as I yell at him. I know I need to keep my voice down so as not to draw attention, but the thought of Charlotte all alone causes panic to well up inside of me.
He’s on his feet so fast that the chair he was sitting in clatters to the floor behind him. Then, in the blink of an eye, he’s leaning over the small table and into my space. I have to crane my neck up to be able to meet his eyes, but I refuse to back down. I’ve gone toe to toe with men far worse than him and came out on top; this is nothing new to me.
“You were a child, Jade!” Roderick says, and his words are so far from what I expected that they take all the fight out of me. My shoulders sag, and I have to fight against the bone-deep urge to shrink away from him.
So few people have ever cared. The girls care because they need me. But looking into Roderick’s eyes, I can see that he’s angry for me, not with me.
“I haven’t been a child since I became someone else’s property.” I tell him as I lift my chin. Determined to show him that I won’t back down, even though I know he’s right. I have been and will continue to be the strength these girls need, no matter what anyone says about it.
I don’t know what he sees in my eyes, but he lets out a huff before his hand goes to his hair as he straightens to standing. He rakes his fingers through it, clearly looking for a way to vent his frustration.
His hair looks soft, and for a moment, I have to fight the urge to reach out and run my fingers through it.
The thought is so out of the blue that it takes me a moment to realize how ridiculously inappropriate it is. Not only because of the current mood and conversation but because I don’t know him, not really.
I would be lying if I said something about them doesn’t make me feel safe, though, something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But if this life has taught me anything, it’s that misplaced trust is dangerous. It can be the difference between life and death, and while I might not fear death, I won’t go easily. If the afterlife wants me, it can come and pry the life from my hands because I’ve fought every step of the way so far, and I refuse to stop now.
“But how did you end up here?” Spencer’s question breaks me from my thoughts, and I turn my attention to him. His face is damn near impassive, and while I want to know what's going on in his head, I decide it’s best just to let it go. Zander is understanding in all of this, if not almost sweet. While Roderick looks ready to beat someone down, I’m about ninety percent certain it’s not me he's mad at. Kratos is silent beside me still, but he seems more the type to listen than to talk. His comfort earlier still sits at the front of my mind.
What if Spencer thinks less of me now?
Would I care?
I don’t let myself answer that because I don’t want to face what it would mean if I did. So instead, I settle for answering his question. It feels like the lesser of the two evils.
“I don’t know. I can’t remember much prior to this. I remember small things...” I close my eyes and take a breath as I pull my few scattered memories to the front of my mind, things that feel so strange to me that they might not even be real.
“I remember running down long hallways as a child with a man chasing behind me as laughter bounced off the walls. The smell of fresh strawberries and vanilla as I was wrapped in a hug and laid down for bed to look up at stars on the ceiling that would glow in the dark.” My voice breaks, and I clear my throat before I continue.
“Someone kissing a scrape on my knee before telling me ‘be careful little princess,’ the feel of their facial hair scratching at my leg as they did it, and the smell of thick sweet smoke in the air.” I open my eyes again as I let the memories go. They might be my memories, but I’m not that person and holding onto them only makes them feel more painful.
“The problem is all of those could be fake. My subconscious looking for something normal and creating these small pockets of happy times.” I shake my head against that idea; for so long, I held onto those fragments. I told myself those people would come for me. If they loved me as much as they seemed in my mind, of course, they would.
But they never did, and eventually, I had to let them go.
“Even if it is real, I can’t recall any faces, no distinguishable features, no names. Nothing that would do me any good now.”
“Besides, it was so long ago that whoever those people were are probably better off thinking I’m dead. I’m sure by now that’s the conclusion they’ve come to, and seeing how I’m not that girl anymore; it would be cruel to look for them.” I look down at my feet as shame courses through me. I know what I am, and I know I needed to be this person to survive, but I can’t help but mourn the girl I could have been. The life I could have had, if not just for me but them.
“Wanting to know them aside, I think we still need to look into them.” Spencer tells me. My head snaps up so quickly I’m surprised my neck doesn’t crack. He can’t be serious.
