Chapter 8
JADE
“Wake the fuck up,” someone yells, the male voice distant, cutting through the fog of sleep draping over me.
I groan, my face still planted on the pillow, burrowing further. This is a stupid dream. I want to go back to bed.
“I said wake up, you lazy bitch!” a man roars, his hand on my arm, fingers roughing into my skin, my heart beating so fast, it climbs up my throat.
As the stranger yanks at my hair, dragging me out of bed, I realize this isn’t a dream at all, but a very real nightmare.
I let out a scream into the shadows, the walls caging my cries, my hands fighting as I fall to the ground, knees slamming into the tiles with scorching pain.
“Be careful,” someone else says from behind us, turning on my bedside lamp. “If she breaks a bone, Faro is gonna kill you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He hauls me up to my feet by my arm, and I discover a brown-haired man, around my age, his eyes small and round, his height towering over me. “See, she’s in one piece. Isn’t that right?” he asks with a sinister chuckle.
“What is this?” I muster out the question, my legs and scalp aching.
“The boss wants to see you. You have two seconds to put on your shoes.”
“I need to get dressed first.” I run my hands up my bare thighs, my pajama shorts riding up my behind. “Could I get some pants at least? I’m only in a tank top.”
He snickers. “Yeah, and no bra.” His eyes zero in on my nipples.
My face heats with shame.
“Let the girl get pants, man. Why you gotta be such a dick?”
“You’re soft,” he tells the other one. “If you don’t treat a whore the way she’s supposed to be treated, she’s gonna go and think she’s in charge.” He considers me cruelly. “Isn’t that right?”
Before I can answer, his hand flies out, curling over my stomach, pressing my back to his front. I feel the bulge there, and grit with disgust.
My brows squeeze as I stare at the other man, his blond hair illuminated by the light flitting from the lamp beside him, his body against the wall as he casually observes.
He has a young boy’s face, maybe no older than twenty. His eyes skitter down to the floor as the guy behind me pinches my nipple, his fingers climbing down, fitting them at the juncture between my thighs.
My insides twist as he presses into me there from above my shorts. The violent need to find a weapon and squeeze the life out of him overwhelms me.
Enzo.
I call to him, even while knowing he can’t hear me. If he did, these men would be dead already.
“Come on,” the blond one says. “Faro said to be quick. Do you wanna piss his ass off? Because I sure as fuck don’t.”
“Fine. Whatever.” He finally drops his hands off of me. “I don’t want her dirty pussy anyway.”
The words cut into my skin, pouring acid over the wounds already there. I fight against the sadness, running to my closet, quickly grabbing sweats, throwing it on in a matter of seconds, before slipping into my sneakers.
“Let’s go,” the dark-haired one says, waiting for me to exit before they follow me out.
As we leave my place, the morning light still flashing past the clouds, I wonder what sort of nightmare I’ll be entering into next and why there’s no mask on my face.
We arrive at a large two-story estate and climb up the three steps, the two black doors greeting us before they open. An elderly woman, her black hair pulled up into a tight bun, donning a maid’s outfit, says hello before politely letting us in.
The place looks bigger inside. The cathedral ceiling has a huge gaudy, crystal chandelier hanging at the foyer, a spiral staircase in the center.
“This way,” the man who touched me snaps, jerking my wrist and shoving me forward. We enter another room, and Faro is the first one I see, a black robe on his round, short body, head full of grays.
I’ve never been inside his home. I never wanted to be. This isn’t good. He wouldn’t have me here unless it meant something bad.
My gut flips.
“Ahh, there she is.” He extends his arms, smiling, but it never reaches his eyes. “Welcome, welcome.” He gets off from the brown leather sofa, making his way to the bar at the corner to my right, my eyes following his every move. “Drink?” he offers, but it’s not sincere.
“No, I’m okay. Thank you.”
The sound of him pouring the honey-colored liquid into the crystal glass, his back to me, crawls up my flesh like roaches.
Something’s coming. I can feel it.
Panic swells inside me, my muscles going rigid.
The two men lock the doors behind them with a loud bang, and when I look back at them, something catches my eyes, and I gasp, my limbs trembling as I hold back a scream.
We’re not alone. There’s someone else here. Someone I hadn’t noticed before.
When our eyes meet, she smiles ruthlessly, running her nails up and down the tops of her breasts, hidden under the white robe she wears.
I need to run, to escape, but I’m frozen in place, trying not to react, even when every inch of my body is bathed with undulated fear.
What did she do!
“Oh, I see you’ve seen Paulina already.” Faro’s voice is a sharp bite and I immediately look back at him, dread swirling inside me.
He sits where I first found him, sipping on his drink, the light of the day splitting through the curtains on his left. “Paulina was telling me some interesting things about you.” He glances at her, but she stares at me instead, a calloused grin growing on her face.
I remain still, like an immobilized statue, praying no one takes a hammer and shatters me into fragments too broken to be put back together.
“That man who came to the dressing room. Who is he?” Faro interrupts the scary thoughts zapping through my mind.
“He’s no one.” I keep my tone even, unaffected by her glare poking holes into me. If I don’t react, he may buy it. “He’s just a guy who pays for dances. Typical Paulina.” I roll my eyes. “Always finding trouble where there is none.”
“She’s a liar, Faro! That’s what she does. She lies,” Paulina screams. “You had to be there. You had to see how—”
He raises a hand to silence her.
“Who’s the liar, Joelle? Hmm? You or Paulina? You know what happens to the motherfuckers who cross me, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t do that, Faro. Paulina is jealous. She hates me. That’s what this is.” I take a confident step toward him, a smile tugging on my lips. “Some of these men get possessive, that’s all this is.” I let the grin widen, hoping to sway him with its flirtatious edge.
Paulina growls, rising to her feet, running for me before I see her coming. With her palm centered to my chest, she pushes me down onto the floor.
In a flash, I prop myself onto my elbows, a snarl forming over my mouth, my breathing pummeling out of me as we stare each other down. While she’s too busy looking tough, I swipe out a foot, kicking her knee, causing her to fall flat onto her back.
I pounce, punching her gut. I would’ve left a nice mark on her face, but Faro would murder me for that. She doesn’t need her legs to fuck.
“Should we stop it, boss?” one of the men asks from somewhere. I can’t see him.
“If I wanted you to, I would’ve said so. You have a brain in there or somethin’?”
“Sorry, boss.”
“I’m gonna kill you!” Paulina shouts as I clutch her small, delicate neck in my palm.
“Try me, bitch,” I pant. “You don’t know what I’m capable of when I’m shoved into a corner.”
I pretend to be weak when it allows me and my son to survive, but mess with our lives and that person will see a side of me they won’t like.
I could kill her right here, right now if I wanted to. I could choke the life out of her for the betrayal. We’re supposed to stick together against them, but she went and fucked Faro and gave him info on me. For what? To get ahead? To be favored?
What did that ever fucking get me other than more abuse, more rapes. Is that what she fucking wants? Women like her disgust me. This is my life. My son’s life!
Before I have a chance to stop her, she raises her head up and throws it against my forehead. We both groan as we connect hard, and she finds the opportunity to get away, climbing back up.
I fight through the pain, rolling away as she tries to kick me in the face.
Jumping to my feet, I run, shoving her hard with both palms until she flies across the room…right into a large coral vase, cracking it into thick pieces of glass.
Oh no!
I stand there, chest heaving, waiting for her to rise, to fight me.
“Come on, Paulina. Don’t give up now.” Silence envelops the room.
“Paulina?” My stomach dips as I release a stuttered gasp.
Why isn’t she doing anything? “Get up!” I call, tiptoeing, the trudging of my sneakers adding to the inching of fear sliding up my body.
“Paulina?” I murmur, my eyes darting to Faro, a sneer on his face as he sips on his liquor, like he’s watching a theatrical performance.
I continue the path to her, my breathing shallow. And when I finally reach her…
No.
My body shakes with a tremor, my knees bucking as I stumble, almost falling on top of her. But a hand holds me up.
His hand.
“Well, this is a problem.” Faro snickers from beside me as we both stare at Paulina, a thick shard of glass sticking out, punctured through the back of her neck, a pool of blood around it. Her eyes are open but there’s no life there.
I killed her.
“Wha—I,” I stammer, unable to part my gaze from her, my heart rate speeding to an abnormal pace.
“You what, hmm?”
“I—I di-didn’t mean to.” I shake my head, my throat swelling, tears on the verge of storming down my face.
“Well, you fucking did it, you stupid bitch,” he barks out, his glare as evil as the rest of him. “Not only did you cost me money, but now I have to clean this fuckin’ mess.”
“Please, Faro!” I don’t know what I’m begging for. Don’t punish my son. Don’t kill him.
His hand falls to my hair, roughly pulling it with his fist. “I should get the cops to arrest you for murder. Then, you’ll never see your son again. And he…” Faro grins. “He’ll be the new favorite. Like mother like son.”
“No.” The tears quietly rain down. “Please don’t do that. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt my son.”
“Yeah, you bet your ass you will.” He tugs, making my scalp burn. “That man from the dressing room, you make sure you never dance for him again. He’s not allowed anywhere near you. I can easily get rid of him, but…”
He releases me, moving back to the couch, and sits down. “I want you to be the one to do it. I want him to know it came from you and make it believable. Or I swear to God, I will end you and your damn son.”
“It’s done.” I breathe heavy, knowing I have no choice but to get rid of Enzo for my boy. And yet, my heart, it feels like it’s being ripped out. “I—I’ll make sure of it.”
“Oh, you better.” He takes a long sip of his drink. “Now get the fuck out.” He waves a hand dismissively. Then the men drag me away, while I stare one last time at the woman I murdered.
A mother.
A daughter.
A sister.
A whore.
Now a killer.
I’m all of them.