Wild Dirty Secret(97)

“Oh God,” I whispered. “What did they do to you?”

Hurt him, beat him, tortured him. My mind didn’t want to accept it. Find another answer, one that wouldn’t leave Luke bleeding.

Blood leaked from the corner of his eye, dried into a crusted tear. His face, his head was a mass of blue and black and purple, swollen and misshapen and beautiful because I could still hear the rasping breath from his bloodied lips. I could still see the beat of a green vein at an undisturbed patch of skin at the hollow of his neck. I touched my fingertip to that spot. He was warm and smooth there, where life and hope still beat.

I heard the steady clop-clop of Henri’s shoes as he came near. I shut my eyes, willing myself to remain still, remain focused, but how could I focus in the face of my worst fears? Luke hurt and Henri with nothing to lose—I didn’t know which one was more terrifying. Where did I go when both dreams and waking held nightmares?

He touched a hand to the back of my neck, the soft pressure almost reassuring. “If you had only listened,” he said with what sounded like regret. “I had such hopes for you. After I’m gone, the two of you could have ruled.”

The force of my denial shook my body. I knew he could feel it, so I didn’t bother to hide the disgust in my voice. “Never. He never would have done what you do.”

After a pause, he laughed. “I didn’t mean Luke.” Before I could ask who he meant, he continued in a low taunt. “Though his hands are not as clean as you think.”

“Lies,” I spat.

“Come now. We may not always agree, but have you ever known me to lie outright?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” He chuckled. “But in this case, I wouldn’t. The truth is far too glorious on its own. Didn’t you ever wonder why Luke cared so much about the plight of the working girl?”

I had wondered, but it was only because Luke was so good—someone like Henri couldn’t possibly understand motives so pure. Someone like me.

“Didn’t ever wonder how he knew so much about the life? I know you did. It was part of what drew you to him.”

I hated that he knew that. I had sacrificed almost everything for the shields I wore. Only a handful of people could see through them. Luke was one of them, Henri another. They were opposite sides of the coin…weren’t they?

“I don’t believe anything you say,” I whispered, though it sounded like a weak defense even to my ears. I was so starved for anything about Luke, for something true and deep. His shields were as fortified as my own, but one thing could always pierce them. Our pasts, our history. The turning point at which we first realized we needed a shield at all, when the world had attacked.

“He was like you. A prostitute. Only worse, I think. You have to spread your legs. It is the way of a woman, for all of time, yes? A man can bear much more physical pain than a woman, but far less humiliation. To suck another man’s dick for twenty dollars in an alley. To bend over. He ceases to be a man.”

No, it couldn’t be. He would have told me. He might have kept it from me, but I would have been able to tell. It explained so much. I could always feel that shame leaking from their heavily powdered pores, wafting on each nervous breath.

Though an unwelcomed power, I could always detect when another had undergone the same denial, the same internal negotiations: it doesn’t mean anything, they can’t touch you on the inside, they can’t even see you. It was a repellant. I had enough sick deals in my own head without shouldering someone else’s. But Luke… No.

He was too straitlaced. He fought prostitution because it went against his lofty morals, and that was the way I damn well liked it. We were opposites that way, light and dark, the sky and the earth, touching along the horizon but never to mix. Attached for eternity but always separate. If we were the same after all… No no no.

“I don’t believe you,” I said with conviction now. I wouldn’t, couldn’t.

“I hope you didn’t suck his dick,” he said. “No telling where it’s been.”

I whirled, catching him on the cheek with my nails. The odds were stacked so high against us, too high, but I wouldn’t make it easy. Let him try to touch Luke again with me nearby. I swung, slamming my fist in the side of his neck. He wouldn’t even have been the one to kill us. One of his men, as he delegated everything except for this.

He pinned me, and I panted against the wall.

“Bitch,” he spat into my face. “I should kill you for that.”

“So do it,” I panted. “Why don’t you fucking do it already?”