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Violet Grenade(18)

By:Victoria Scott




       
         
       
        

Someone knocks on the door, and she calls for them to enter. Cain steps inside holding freshly ironed sheets and a plush pillow. The scent of breakfast clings to his body-turkey bacon and butter melting on the griddle. His gaze stays locked on the linens.

"Would you like new bedding, Domino?" Ms. Karina asks.

There's a part of me that wants to say no. I don't want to take anything from this woman who says she likes me and whose laugh shoots through my bloodstream and whose stories about flowers I don't understand. But if Dizzy were here he'd say to never turn down an offer like this. If it's free, it's free. Don't be too proud, Domino.

But pride was never my problem, and I think Dizzy knew that. My problem is I can't handle being crushed when people aren't what they pretend to be. More than that, Wilson can't handle it.

"Cain, come over here," Ms. Karina says.

He does as she asks.

And then he's just there, head bowed, arms full of the sheets I won't take. I'm a jerk for allowing him to stand there like a statue. Every inch of his body is rigid with the desire to flee the room. So I stand up and close the distance between us.

The sheets are white like Dizzy's shoelaces. White with the purity of a second chance.

I take them.

As they are transferred from the boy's arms to mine, his head raises. Our eyes meet for the second time today. He appears guilty, and angry. Behind that dark gaze brews fire and brimstone. It's like he's asking me to read a silent thought, but I'm focused on the hard muscles along his clenched jaw.

Cain releases the smallest of sighs as he turns and exits the room. Ms. Karina asks me to sit back down. I do, awkwardly, with the sheets spilling over my arms. I shuffle my new temporary belongings, and my finger finds an unexpected hole in the chair's ornate armrest. It's large enough to dig my nail into.

The woman stares at the sheets, a smile playing on her lips.

She seems absolutely delighted that I took them.





Chapter Ten

Assignments

Ms. Karina answers very few of my questions, and instead shuffles me back down the stairs when Mr. Hodge says she has a phone call.

"Anything you want to ask me, you can ask them," she says outside my new room. Then she turns and clicks down the hallway.

Candy inspects my sheets and purses her lips. Poppet, however, offers to help put them on. "After this we'll go see Mercy."

I pull the sheet across the blue and white pinstriped mattress and glance around. Poppet and Candy's room is a blinding shade of white with posters of actors and musicians strewn across the walls. Above Poppet's bed is Taylor Swift in a sequined dress, one hand clutching a microphone, the other waving toward the crowd. And over Candy's bed is Channing Tatum, a heart drawn over his chest with Michelle written in the center. Many of the posters curl at the corners, in desperate need of fresh tape. 

The only other furniture besides our beds is a small vanity and a single dresser. Poppet notices me eyeing the dresser and says. "You'll get the bottom drawer. Cain already put your things in."

I leave the bed and open the drawer. When I see my wigs, makeup, jewelry, and most importantly, Dizzy's shirt, I smile with relief. I'd almost forgotten about my belongings. But now they wink up at me, reminding me why I'm here.

Candy leaves the room and, when Poppet's back is turned, I slip the sixty-four dollars and change from my pocket-minus the fifty cents it took to call Ms. Karina-into the back of the dresser. Once I'm satisfied that it's hidden, I close my drawer and turn to Poppet. "Can I ask you a question?"

She glows. "Shoot."

"How do we get paid? I mean, what kinds of jobs are available? And when do we get the money?"

The girl pulls her blond hair into a half pony and then removes her nightshirt. Pink nipples the size of silver dollars stand at attention. I blush until she shrugs on a white tank and black Victoria's Secret sweat shorts. "Don't worry, I'll walk you through that tonight. Or maybe Madam Karina will." She claps her hands with excitement. "You're going to love it here, Domino. It's so much fun. Well, the days aren't that fun, but the nights make up for it. Right now, though, we have to get our assignments or we'll be docked. Oh, and you can't wear that. Borrow something of mine until you can get things of your own."

This girl's all right, Wilson decides. I approve.

Poppet finally pauses in talking, opens the middle dresser drawer, and pulls out a plain black V-neck.

"Why do you keep calling Ms. Karina Madam?" I ask as she hands me a shirt. "And do we get paid for these assignments?"