Lola has a ring on each finger and arms like cattails shooting up from swamp water. She's painfully thin with a high forehead and wide mouth. She uses that mouth to smile at me. "You know why Cain is here, right?"
She pauses so long I feel the need to shrug.
Lola flops down in the chair next to me, rubs her hands over her exposed thighs. "He killed someone. He's a killer." She glances back at the house. "A Bonnie and Clyde kinda thing. But without the Bonnie."
I don't believe her for a second. This morning someone implied that Cain was a serial killer, too. I didn't believe them, either. I know a thing or two about dangerous people, and Cain isn't one of them.
I stand up. "I've got to go."
"Hey, new girl. Don't come back here again." Lola laughs, then grows serious. "Don't come anywhere near my place. You stay with the trash where you belong."
Wilson slams himself against the inside of my skull, stretches toward her breakable body with all his might. Before he can get his way, I follow Cain's path and make my way back toward the main house. Behind me, Lola laughs again. She sounds almost crazy. But it doesn't dampen my interest in her.
I can't help wondering what it is Lola and the other Violets do with their customers in that guesthouse, away from prying eyes.
You know, Wilson says.
But I don't know, not for sure. How could I? They're there and I'm here and that's that. No reason to question things.
Don't be stupid, Domino.
When I push open the door, I stumble across Madam Karina backed against a wall, Mr. Hodge kissing her neck. The madam sees me and lightly pushes him away, blushes, though she doesn't seem embarrassed.
I rush past the two and back into the entertainment room before the madam or Mr. Hodge can ask why I was outside.
Chapter Fourteen
We Are Sisters in the Dark
I spend the rest of the night making up for lost time. I do my best to regain Katy's attention, and when that doesn't work, I try my hand with different customers. Shockingly enough, none of them want a picture drawn on a napkin. I need real paint and an easel to have a shot at scoring those bronze coins.
With my conversation with Cain, and then Lola, heavy in my head, the evening ends. It's one o'clock in the morning, and Madam Karina comes in to thank everyone for the spectacular night and to show the guests to the door. As coins clink into the money box, I stand still. The other girls do, too, as if we can somehow make out whether a coin fell into our own numbered slot.
Mercy yawns and waves her arm over her head. "We'll clean up Monday. Fifteen minutes until lights out."
The girls file out of the room, and Poppet finds me near the back. "Thanks for what you did, but you know the girls were just being funny, right?"
"They weren't being funny, Poppet, they were being jerks."
Poppet grabs my elbow, and I stop. "No, they were being funny. I've been here almost a year now, okay? I'm one of them. They may tease me, but they also care. I have friends here, understand?"
Poppet's body is locked with intensity, and her fingers dig into my arm. She needs to believe what she's saying is true, even though I know it's not. "Hey, my bad. It's not like I know what I'm talking about. If you say they're your friends, then they're your friends."
She smiles, but the truth lies in her eyes. "You must be exhausted. If I were Madam, I wouldn't have made you work on the first night."
Poppet and I trail after the other girls and enter the community bathroom. It's a white tiled room with two toilet stalls and two showers. Not nearly enough for ten girls. Four sinks line the wall, but only three have running water. "I would have worked tonight no matter what."
"Oh, yeah? Do you need the money for something specific, or are you a lifer?" Poppet is rubbing the mascara out from under her eyes with toilet paper and water. I don't bother doing the same. I leave my makeup on my pillow where it belongs.
Mercy flips the light switch repeatedly. "Five minutes, hussies."
Poppet uses the restroom, and then we go to our room. Candy is already in bed, but she's awake and watches us crawl into our own beds. Poppet puts on matching shorts and tank pajamas with flying pigs on them, and offers to lend me a pair. But I've done enough taking from her. So I pull on Dizzy's shirt and sleep in that alone.
Mercy's voice rings through the night once more. "Lights off."
Poppet reaches over and turns off the lamp on our vanity. The room grows darker as down the hall, other girls do the same thing. Mercy marches toward our room, and every few seconds I hear a spontaneous popping sound. The girl with blue-black hair stretches into our room, grabs the door handle, and slams it shut.