Part 23 (2/2)

”Jack-”

”Jack told us to take care of you,” I heard Carmichael say. ”Jack said we could.”

9.

EVERYTHING WAS STILL. My head felt thick and sore and so did my body, but the room had stopped moving. Carmichael was gone; Joe was sitting on the bed next to me, smoking a cigarette. He was naked. I realized that I was naked, too.

The air smelled bad.

Joe looked down at me and said something about being s.e.xy and seventeen.

”Bathroom,” I said. Croaked.

He pointed down the hallway with his cigarette.

I tried to stand up. My legs were wobbly. Somehow, I made it. I washed my hands and my face and then I looked in the mirror.

There was makeup smeared under my eyes. My hair was a tangled mess and my eyes were red. There was stubble burn on my cheeks and my chin and my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and the hair between my legs was sticky and hard. My scalp was sore, as if my hair had been pulled hard.

My skin smelled of Joe's cologne.

I splashed some water on my face and then took a towel from the rack on the wall and wrapped it around myself. Things were still dim around the edges, and on my way back to the bedroom I made a wrong turn and found myself staring at a human-sized cage made from chicken wire and splintering wood. It was filled with excited, darting things, all bright little eyes and pointed little ears and snaky little backs.

Paralyzed with horror, I couldn't breathe.

”You like my ferrets?” Joe emerged from the bedroom, wearing only a pair of tight blue briefs.

”No.” The cage reeked of urine-soaked wood and rodent dirt. It was the source of the bad smell in the air. The ma.s.s of ferrets inside it writhed malevolently.

Joe opened the cage and pulled one of them out. It moved sinuously up his arm and curled around his neck. ”You want to hold her?”

”No,” I said. I couldn't stop shuddering. The ferret's black eyes glittered at me from his shoulder.

”You want to know their names?” Joe pointed at each of the ferrets in turn and said, in a singsong voice, ”l.u.s.t, Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Anger, Greed, Pride; and this little darling here is Ingrid.” He reached up behind his head and stroked the ferret's long body. Grinning, he said, ”Here, hold her,” and put the ferret on my shoulder. Its tiny claws dug into my bare skin as it sniffed at my ear and I felt its fur bristle as it investigated the back of my neck.

Then it was in my hair. My mouth opened and I heard myself scream.

The noise was loud and shrill and broke through my daze. I beat at the hissing ma.s.s of fur with my hands, still screaming, and then there was a sudden sharp pain on the side of my hand. Joe was shouting, ”Don't hurt her! Don't hurt her!” and he grabbed me and pushed me fiercely against the wall. He pinned me there with a forearm across my breastbone while he gently pulled strands of my hair away from the ferret. When she was free he lifted her back to his shoulder. She hissed at me again and he held me by the arm and slapped me, twice, hard.

”You stupid b.i.t.c.h. You f.u.c.king hurt her,” he said and let his arm fall.

My legs gave out and I slid down, crumpling in a heap at the base of the wall. Joe stalked into the bedroom, the ferret twined around his neck, and came back a moment later carrying my clothes.

He threw them at my face. ”Here. Get dressed and get the f.u.c.k out of here.”

The ferret blinked at me from his shoulder.

I found my underwear in the pile and pulled them on. There were long smears of blood down the length of my thighs.

”It bit me,” I said. ”My hand is bleeding.” I held it up.

”Get out of here,” Joe said again and shook his head in disgust. ”f.u.c.king pathetic.”

Outside, it was early morning. There was a thick fog clinging to the empty streets and the air was cool and damp in my lungs. I'd wrapped my bleeding hand in one of my Gypsy scarves and was clutching it to my chest. My tights had disappeared and my boots were rubbing painfully against my legs.

Every muscle in my body was tired or sore. My stomach hurt and my head was fuzzy.

Jack said it's okay. Jack said we could.

No. Obviously that hadn't been true. I had been calling for my brother; that's why they'd said that. Because Jack would never.

The doorman in Lily's building was asleep in a chair in the lobby. I rode the elevator up and let myself in. The apartment was dark. I tripped over Lily's suitcases. So she hadn't left yet.

I went to the bathroom and turned the bathtub faucet on, peeling the Gypsy costume off as I went and kicking it into the corner. There was rubbing alcohol in the cabinet; holding my hand over the sink, I poured some directly into the ferret bite. It burned. I hissed and swore.

”You're back,” Jack said from the doorway.

”I'm back.” I kept my head down. My face was starting to bruise where Joe had hit me. If I turned that side of my face away from Jack, he'd see it in the mirror. If I turned it away from the mirror, it would be facing him.

”We tried to find you before we left.” He moved into the bathroom and closed the door. ”Maris said you went off with Carmichael. Lily was thrilled.”

”I want to take a bath,” I said. ”Can you leave me alone, please?”

Jack didn't leave. ”Did you go off with him?”

”I want to take a bath,” I said again.

Jack moved forward quickly and grabbed my shoulder, turning me around to face him. His hair was wild and there were deep bags under his eyes. He stared at me.

”What happened to your face?” His voice was emotionless.

I didn't trust myself to speak. The bathroom was filling with steam that made my eyes water. ”Same thing that happened to the rest of me,” I managed to say. ”I got hit by a truck.”

We stared at each other for a long moment, and a memory drifted into my mind.

Does your brother do this?

”Some truck,” he said finally and let me go. ”Do you want me to stay?”

I told him to go back to bed and sat in the bathtub for a long time, ignoring the sting of the hot water on my hand. Finally I climbed out, dried myself on one of Lily's thick white towels, and went to bed. The sheets felt clean and smooth on my skin, and the pillowcase was cool under my head. I didn't sleep.

A few hours later, I heard voices in the living room. Lily was leaving. Not long afterward the door opened and Jack slid into bed with me. I buried my face in the pillow. He didn't try to touch me.

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