I had performed the act a hundred different ways
with a hundred different men, but I couldn’t say the words.
“You don’t have to say. I know. I trust you.”
* * * *
Present day
The worst part of the whole thing was that he had. He’d
trusted me, and I’d fucking lied. I hadn’t meant it as a lie, but I should have
known it was impossible for someone with my past to live a normal life. But
there I went, wishing on another star, and this time there wasn’t even Luke’s
worried face above me, just a pissed-off, anxious teenager at nine o’clock in
the morning. After opening up to her, I hadn’t had any energy left—nor any
desire to hear her pity. So I’d hit the sack. It looked like my reprieve was
over.
Ella wanted to talk about the past. She wanted a plan for
the future. But I only ever lived in the present. It kept me from
hyperventilating and was cheaper than therapy.
“So what, are we just going to wait around until they find
us?” she asked.
Still frustrated from my dream, from my failures, I rolled
over. “Give me a few minutes.”
“You’ve been sleeping all morning. It’s afternoon now. Did
you know that?”
Sighing, I tried to rub the old hurt and bitterness from my
eyes. Now wasn’t the time to mess with me, but she didn’t know that or she
didn’t care. Wasn’t she supposed to be pissed at me for blowing Philip? Or
maybe she was glad about it now, because she didn’t sound angry. I couldn’t
keep up.
I glared at her as the pounding in my head grew louder. “I
should have left you there at that fucking hotel.”
“I did tell you to
leave me alone, if you recall. You’re the one who didn’t listen.”
“And I’m not listening now either. Notice a pattern?”
“I’m just trying to help.”
I rolled my eyes. “Go fuck Philip if you want to make
yourself useful.”
She looked stricken right before she ran from the room.
I flopped back on the bed, beating my head against the wall.
Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. It had just hurt so much to see Luke’s
brilliant eyes in my dream, then Ella’s with the same hopeful shine. I was
failing them both.
At least I was awake now. Self-loathing would do that to a
person.
Though it wasn’t all bad. I needed to make a visit, and
illicit anticipation rushed through me at the thought. I had broken my promise
to Luke, but I would still take whatever pleasure I could get from him, wring
every second of his company.
I thought about going to the club alone. Being Henri’s girl had
always afforded me a certain amount of protection. But now, this time, my
identity would be a secret. A lone girl in a place like that… Well, look at
what happened to Ella. Instead, my disguise would be commonplace, and
strung-out, drugged-up girls being dragged around by a grungy boyfriend,
dealer, and occasional pimp were a dime a dozen in Chicago’s underground scene.
Luke should come with
you.
Jade’s words kept repeating in my head, a slippery
invitation to my darkest desires, excuses to cling to when I slid down, down.
Besides, I reasoned, this way I could see Luke and not break down at the
thought that he’d never wanted me. What had he been thinking when I’d pushed
myself on him? Before, I would have said repressed desire. Now I thought maybe
disgust. The whore who couldn’t even be in the same room with a man without
humping him. And my actions with Philip last night proved it.
I didn’t waste much time on regret. Why poke the base of a
house of cards? And yet my situation with Ella irked me. I hadn’t really done
anything wrong. Why was she even mad? That I’d slept with a man on her behalf?
Or that I’d slept with the man who’d rejected her? Goddamn teenagers. I
couldn’t get her hurt expression from when she’d found us out of my mind.
Downstairs, I found Ella sulking into a coffee mug that
smelled like chocolate.
“So, did you have a good night?” I asked.
She said nothing, glaring at her drink like she could
with a hundred different men, but I couldn’t say the words.
“You don’t have to say. I know. I trust you.”
* * * *
Present day
The worst part of the whole thing was that he had. He’d
trusted me, and I’d fucking lied. I hadn’t meant it as a lie, but I should have
known it was impossible for someone with my past to live a normal life. But
there I went, wishing on another star, and this time there wasn’t even Luke’s
worried face above me, just a pissed-off, anxious teenager at nine o’clock in
the morning. After opening up to her, I hadn’t had any energy left—nor any
desire to hear her pity. So I’d hit the sack. It looked like my reprieve was
over.
Ella wanted to talk about the past. She wanted a plan for
the future. But I only ever lived in the present. It kept me from
hyperventilating and was cheaper than therapy.
“So what, are we just going to wait around until they find
us?” she asked.
Still frustrated from my dream, from my failures, I rolled
over. “Give me a few minutes.”
“You’ve been sleeping all morning. It’s afternoon now. Did
you know that?”
Sighing, I tried to rub the old hurt and bitterness from my
eyes. Now wasn’t the time to mess with me, but she didn’t know that or she
didn’t care. Wasn’t she supposed to be pissed at me for blowing Philip? Or
maybe she was glad about it now, because she didn’t sound angry. I couldn’t
keep up.
I glared at her as the pounding in my head grew louder. “I
should have left you there at that fucking hotel.”
“I did tell you to
leave me alone, if you recall. You’re the one who didn’t listen.”
“And I’m not listening now either. Notice a pattern?”
“I’m just trying to help.”
I rolled my eyes. “Go fuck Philip if you want to make
yourself useful.”
She looked stricken right before she ran from the room.
I flopped back on the bed, beating my head against the wall.
Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. It had just hurt so much to see Luke’s
brilliant eyes in my dream, then Ella’s with the same hopeful shine. I was
failing them both.
At least I was awake now. Self-loathing would do that to a
person.
Though it wasn’t all bad. I needed to make a visit, and
illicit anticipation rushed through me at the thought. I had broken my promise
to Luke, but I would still take whatever pleasure I could get from him, wring
every second of his company.
I thought about going to the club alone. Being Henri’s girl had
always afforded me a certain amount of protection. But now, this time, my
identity would be a secret. A lone girl in a place like that… Well, look at
what happened to Ella. Instead, my disguise would be commonplace, and
strung-out, drugged-up girls being dragged around by a grungy boyfriend,
dealer, and occasional pimp were a dime a dozen in Chicago’s underground scene.
Luke should come with
you.
Jade’s words kept repeating in my head, a slippery
invitation to my darkest desires, excuses to cling to when I slid down, down.
Besides, I reasoned, this way I could see Luke and not break down at the
thought that he’d never wanted me. What had he been thinking when I’d pushed
myself on him? Before, I would have said repressed desire. Now I thought maybe
disgust. The whore who couldn’t even be in the same room with a man without
humping him. And my actions with Philip last night proved it.
I didn’t waste much time on regret. Why poke the base of a
house of cards? And yet my situation with Ella irked me. I hadn’t really done
anything wrong. Why was she even mad? That I’d slept with a man on her behalf?
Or that I’d slept with the man who’d rejected her? Goddamn teenagers. I
couldn’t get her hurt expression from when she’d found us out of my mind.
Downstairs, I found Ella sulking into a coffee mug that
smelled like chocolate.
“So, did you have a good night?” I asked.
She said nothing, glaring at her drink like she could
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