Violet Grenade(34)

I help them load what little remains until the screen door slams against the house. Mr. Hodge walks onto the front porch, his steps loud against the concrete. "What's going on out here? Why the hell is one of our girls loading your crap, Angie?"

Both Angie and Cain grow serious, but it's Angie who responds. "It was my fault, Frank. Been feeling under the weather lately. I asked if she'd help."

I start to rebut Angie's claim, but Cain catches my eye and shakes his head.

Mr. Hodge sticks out his chest. "If you can't take care of your own business, I'd be happy to find another supplier."

"Not necessary." Angie pulls herself into the tractor seat and then starts the engine. "I'll be good as new next time you see me."

Mr. Hodge huffs and then turns his attention on me. "Domino, meet me in Madam Karina's room."

He marches inside, and I glance back at Angie.

"Go on," she says. "Don't you keep that man waiting." I rush toward the house, but Angie's voice stops me. "Hey, wait."

I turn around.

She squints in the morning blaze a long time before flicking her eyes toward Madam Karina's mother's empty flowerbed. It's like Angie has suddenly decided against speaking her mind. Finally, the woman says, "Keep your head up in there."

I salute her, and when I do, the corner of Cain's eyes crinkle like he's going to smile again.

Angie shakes her head. Even from here, I can hear her mumble a sharp, "Smart-ass."

I jog up the stairs, into the house, and toward the room where Mr. Hodge is waiting. As Cain and Angie grow farther away, my heart beats faster. I don't know what Mr. Hodge wants with me, but that man makes me more nervous than a snowman in hell.





Chapter Twenty

Phone Call

I stare down at the pink Carnation on my blouse. It's been there since Mr. Hodge gave it to me, free of charge if you can imagine that. I poke at it as Poppet gets ready for another night of work. It's been four days since I arrived at Madam Karina's home, and I've missed Dizzy every minute. 

I'm getting closer to accumulating the money I need to free him. The first evening I worked, Saturday, I earned one coin. But on Monday and Tuesday, I earned two each night. Eighth place, which Madam Karina assures me is incredible. But it isn't enough. Not when I've barely paid back the cost of my sheets and pillow, and have another nine dollars to repay before I start earning.

I've vowed to not buy another single thing from this place. Instead, I borrow clothing and toiletries from Poppet, and in return I do as many of her chores as I can when Mercy's back is turned.

It's been six days since I've seen Dizzy. And every day the girls grow increasingly abusive as I slowly climb the placement ranks and nab their clients' attention. What's more, I'm not sure I'll make real money unless I move up to a new flower category. And that would take time, more time than I want to spend, with Dizzy in jail.

So it seems I have a decision to make.

Stay at Madam Karina's House for Burgeoning Entertainers and work my way up the ranks quickly.

Count my losses. Find a train. And get myself back to Detroit, stat.



The more I think about it, the more attractive option number two looks. Problem is, I don't want to leave Poppet. And maybe I'm a bit interested in what Cain's deal is. And yes, I like Madam Karina's attention. I like the way she talks to me in that gentle voice. I like the way she lights a candle in her room that smells like oatmeal cookies and asks me how I'm doing.

But even with my sketchpad, I'm not earning enough. And so my decision is clear. Besides, it's not like I tried that hard to get a job. What if I went to five places a day and asked for an application? What about ten?

And then there's Wilson and his insistence that things will only get worse if I stay here. And that he knows, and I know, what awaits us in those guesthouses.

Repeating the past, he whispers. Manipulation and violence. Is that what you want? Because if so, I'm down. It's just I thought you wanted to forget about-

I stand up, suffocating Wilson, determined to take action after a week of being pushed around inside this enormous farmhouse that grows smaller by the day. Poppet asks me where I'm going, but I don't respond. Right now, I need to talk to Greg. See if maybe he would hire me even though his shop is struggling.

I shuffle down the stairs to the basement where market is held. The same room I've seen girls pay to use the telephone. Until now, I didn't want to dig myself deeper into a financial hole. But now that I hold the possibility of leaving in my head, I can't think of anything besides hearing Greg's voice. Even if he can't hire me, he may know a good place to start.

When I reach the bottom step, I spot movement behind the cage. I edge closer and narrow my eyes. There's someone sleeping back there. I move closer still and make out a twin-sized mattress on the floor. It's no secret who it is: expansive shoulders, shaved head, tan skin. I cough into a closed fist until he startles and turns his head over on the pillow.