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"So you don't want to picture him with me."
"It's silly."
"No it's not. It's natural. And it's been a while, sister. More than half a year at this point.”
"That's okay. You can, keep going. It's not like he's mine or anything."
"You sure?”
I nod, not entirely sure I want to hear, but certain I don’t want to miss out on details.
“Well…anyway. Hunter came to see me for a while, and after some time I learned his ways. I talked to the other girls and you know, we compared stories. And here's something I figured out: He likes us all to shut our eyes. We have to."
I'm confused. "Is that uncommon?" I think about that song—the one about closing your eyes during a kiss. "I would think leaving them open would be unromantic."
"You don’t get much romance here at Love Incorporated. When he wants our eyes shut, it's because that's the only way he can cum."
I feel like I've been hit in the heart. I nod.
"I think he's using that instead of tying us up or holding us down. He likes to have control. A lot of them do. But he doesn't like us to look at him—ever. And when we sleep he never does." She shrugs. “I'm not saying this is big news around here. I'm just giving you some background.”
I digest this. He's always kept his eyes open with me. "Maybe it's a privacy thing..." They are prostitutes, after all. He doesn't know them.
"No. He doesn't feel safe. It's kind of frenzied, how he acts. Trust me girl. I've been with a lot of men.”
"So that's your story.”
“That's not all of it. But now that I've seen the look on your face, I want to hear about you and him. If you don't mind going into it."
And, strangely, I don't. I haven't been totally open all the time with Suri, and even if I had, she's had so much of her own stuff going on; she hasn't been as interested in my details as she normally would be. Loveless knows Hunter, too, and I can tell she's affected by him. That she cares about him. Even if it's just escort-to-client.
So I spill. The whole dirty affair, from house party to the sauna in the bathroom at the fight.
When I'm done, her eyes are wide. "You and him have got a thing. A real thing. If he's letting you look at him, that's something, honey. And let me tell you something else. Something private that I want you to keep just to yourself."
"What is it?"
"That night. The night it happened with him and Sarabelle. I walked into the room that night because I noticed that the cameras had gone down and I was checking on everybody. Sarabelle wasn't there and he was out of it. Lying on the bed. He had gotten sick. And he was crying. He was holding onto his face, like he'd been bitch-slapped, and he was saying, "Please don't look at me. Please don't look at me like that."
I frown, confused. "What do you think that means?"
“I don't know.” She shakes her head. “I told the cops Sarabelle was gone when I found him, and he was sleeping. It didn't look like he had hurt anybody. He didn't seem in any shape to. I didn’t mention what he said. I guess it kind of struck me as his business. And I don't see Hunter West as any kidnapper. But I've wondered about it since then. And I've thought about it. How he looked. It bothered me. I was just thinking maybe you could figure it out. Someone who knows him in his real life should know. Someone should care."
Chapter Twenty-Four
~ELIZABETH~
I try to tell myself that I'm not obsessed, but it's a lie. Suri calls Friday morning before I go down for breakfast, and I spill all—starting with the rendezvous at Hunter's house party and going all the way through the tryst in the women's sauna at the Joseph Club two nights ago.
I'm eagerly awaiting her response when I hear violent sobbing on the other end of the line.
"Oh my God." My stomach does a back-flip. "Is it something with Cross?"
"New York," she wails. "He's staying in New York—" She sobs some more. "We're not getting married anymore!"
I sit down on my bed, clutching my stomach and feeling shell-shocked. "Suri, oh my God, what happened?"
"And Cross has his eyes open!"
