8. Amal
AMAL
Once Jet’s gone, I set my hand over the ghost of his on my heart. It’s still beating too fast from the contact.
I turn back to the bedroom.
I like it here.
I’m sorry to have to leave it.
I have to remember, though, that last night was a reprieve.
A single night Jet bought me and from the look on Cassian’s face, it’ll cost him.
I cross the room and make the bed, brushing a hand over his pillow.
Picking up his discarded towel, I walk into the bathroom to wash my face and rinse my mouth.
Finger combing my curls as best as I can, I wipe away smudged eyeliner going for smokey eye since I have no makeup remover.
I think I may have looked like a racoon earlier.
Then, before leaving the bathroom, I pick up the still open bottle of aftershave and rub some on my neck, the insides of my wrists.
In the bedroom, I pull on the dress from the baptism. Since he left the dresser drawer open, I peer in and see how neat he is, how his socks are rolled up and stacked in neat rows, briefs folded tidily next to the socks.
The watch he discarded sits beside several others in their little velvety boxes.
I pick up the one he was wearing last night.
A Rolex. They’re all Rolexes. There’s a small fortune in Jet’s underwear drawer.
But Jethro Blackstone has money to burn.
It’s obvious if I just take a look around. I mean, who builds a house like this?
If I had just the value of one of those watches, hell, half what one is worth, I’d have options.
I put the watch back in its place and I’m about to close the drawer when I notice something peeking out from the back corner. Reaching in, I peer under the briefs to find yet another watch, an older one with a cracked clock face.
I pick it up. It’s an old Rolex, like really old. The gold is yellower than I can see Jet wearing. He prefers silver. The cracked crystal spiders on one side but I can read what is written on the face. Rolex Oyster Perpetual Datejust. It has diamonds where the numbers of the clock would be.
It doesn’t seem to be working and if it’s been neglected so long in the back of the drawer, I get why.
It should wind itself when worn just with the movement of one’s wrist, so I find the mechanism on the side and manually wind it.
There’s some resistance but then it turns.
Nothing happens though. When I give it a shake and hold it to my ear, I hear a fragile tick but when I look at it again, it’s still not working.
I turn the weighty watch over on my hand and see an inscription. Three letters.
I V I
Vaguely familiar Roman numerals? Were they part of Jet’s tattoo? I try to recall it but there was so much to see that I can’t remember.
Beneath the numerals is an etched design but dirt covers it. I scrape at it with my fingernail and realize something just as it comes off.
It’s not dirt.
It’s blood.
Dried blood.
I recall the scars on Jet’s body and my stomach sinks.
Just then a knock comes on the door, startling me. I jump back from the dresser and instinctively stuff the watch into my pocket when Jet opens the door.
He takes a moment. I must look guilty.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod quickly. “Mind if I borrow your book?” I ask only so that I can look away from him as I make my way to the bed and pick up the book I was reading last night.
“Sure.” He holds the door wider and gestures for me to go ahead of him and I’m not sure why I do it. Why I take the watch. But I do. I just walk out of there with his watch in my pocket.
There’s a part of my brain that is screaming for me to put it back but there’s another part that is forming a plan.
Today, Daniel and I fly back to Florida and tomorrow I’m back at school, back to my life of being watched, essentially a prisoner even if it is for my own protection.
I have no money. Cassian controls that. He pays for my school and housing and food and pretty much everything and gives me a small allowance which is embarrassing to think about, but he won’t allow me to work.
Says it’s for my own safety and I know he’s right to an extent.
But also, this is how he keeps control of me. Makes sure I stay put.
If I just had some money, I could get away just for a little while.
Just long enough to give Daniel a chance.
Because maybe I can save him. Get him out of this life.
Give him a chance. Maybe it’s dumb but I have to try.
I have to find a way. This watch will get me enough money to do it.
Jet won’t even miss it he has so many others. And he’d basically thrown this one out.
“Amal,” Cassian says when I walk into the living room to find him holding a cup of coffee. A soldier is standing near the elevator. “Your brother’s outside. You ready to go?”
I nod, turn to Jet. “Um, thank you,” I say, feeling so many things, guilt right at the top of that list while simultaneously trying to read what’s in his eyes.
Wanting to memorize those eyes and the way they look at me when we’re alone.
When no one is around. When he’s relaxed and himself. Truly himself.
“Remember what I told you,” he says.
I can feel Cassian’s eyes on us and nod.
Cotton makes her way over to me against Jet’s order to stay put and I crouch down to give her a little love.
“Thanks for the book. I’ll get it back to you,” I tell Jet before walking away from them both to slip on my shoes. I notice Cassian has my coat draped over his arm and when I walk to the door, he sets it over my shoulders.
I hug it to myself as the elevator doors slide open and when they do, Cassian gestures for me to go with the soldier. “He’ll take you home.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I’ll follow shortly.”
I glance at Jet who gives me a nod. I know he’s not scared of Cassian. I know he can walk away if he chooses and that gives him power. But I also know he doesn’t want to walk away.
“Okay. See you,” I say to Jet which feels so weird after the night we had.
“See you,” he answers.
The soldier climbs into the elevator after me and just before the doors slide fully closed, I hear Cassian.
“What in the actual fuck, Jet?”