Instead, I saw one of the last things I expected: Rochelle coming down the stairs with three full shopping bags in each hand. The sound of female voices echoed down the stairs.
“I’ll be right up!” Rochelle shouted over her shoulder. She bustled past me and threw the bags onto the card table.
“Who is that?” I asked, my eyes lingering on the stairwell.
“Friends,” she said casually.
“You have friends?” I blurted.
She raised her eyebrows. “Of course I have friends,” she snapped.
I pressed my lips together and nodded. Rochelle rubbed the red marks the heavy shopping bags had left on her arms and hurried back up the stairs. The basement door clicked shut. I waited for the locks to slide into place. When they didn’t, I got up and crept up the stairs. I put my hand on the doorknob and twisted.
It was locked, but the deadbolts weren’t. Had Rochelle forgotten, or did she not want her ‘friends’ seeing her lock the door? I shook my head and went back down the stairs. I moved to the card table and investigated the shopping bags. I picked up a white bag with black handles, recognizing the logo right away. Two expensive sweaters were neatly folded on top of a pair of jeans that cost as much as the two sweaters combined. I peered inside a brown bag next, which was full of t-shirts and tank tops. A small, black bag had pretty multicolored gemstone necklaces wrapped in white and gold tissue paper, and the other three bags housed shoes.
I opened a pink shoebox and held up a neon green stiletto. I was about to drop it back into the box when I noticed it was a size five. None of us, not even petite Phoebe, wore shoes that small. I turned and looked at the stairs. Was this stuff bought for the girls Rochelle called her friends?
“Why?” I asked aloud. I set the shoes down and went back to my cot. I wrapped my arms around myself and wished Phoebe was here. I pulled the quilt around my shoulders and lay down. I drifted into a light sleep. I dreamed that Jackson took me around the farmhouse to the shed, saying he had a surprise for me. When he opened the shed doors, I was looking at my house.
“Addie,” he said in the dream. I turned to look at him. “Addie,” he repeated.#p#分页标题#e#
I startled awake and heard my name again, that time for real.
“Sorry,” Jackson said and looked down. “Did I wake you?”
“Yeah,” I said, seeing no sense in lying.
“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled. “I hope you weren’t having a good dream.”
“Of course not,” I said, lying that time. I knew Jackson would feel bad if I told him the truth. I sat up and ran my hands over my messy hair, pushing it out of my face. “Who are those girls upstairs?”
Jackson frowned. “Zane’s newest recruits.”
“Recruits?” I asked.
Jackson nodded and sat on the cot next to mine. “Every once in a while he goes out, usually to the mall, and sweet talks a few girls into working for him.”
I shook my head. “Why would anyone fall for that?”
Jackson looked down. “Zane has a way with people. He’s good at getting inside your head, making you feel special. He’s so manipulative it’s almost … almost animalistic. In the end, you want to do things for him.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t care how sweet someone is to me. I would never agree to have sex for money that I can’t even keep!”
“It doesn’t work like that, Addie,” he explained. “Zane picks out girls who already have issues, family, self esteem … that kind of thing. He builds them up and makes sure they depend on him. Then he’ll start asking for favors, but they’re small at first. He makes these girls think that he loves them … ” Jackson trailed off, shaking his head. “And a lot of them are young. They believe what he tells them. And they keep the money at first. He buys them stuff.” He sighed, looking at the card table. “Plus, if you haven’t noticed, Zane exceeds the definition of ‘attractive.' You girls eat that shit up.”
I gently kicked his foot. “Don’t group me with ‘those girls,'” I told him with a small smile.
“Sorry,” he said, his eyes smiling back at me. “But you know what I mean.”
“I do,” I said and shook my head. I thought of Arianna and how impressionable she was. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew she could easily be lured to a party with alcohol, and even drugs. I hoped she was smart enough to see the red flag in Zane’s ‘favors.' I knew many females, not just young teenagers, were willing to turn a blind eye for a guy that showed them even minimal affection.