Twisted, p.7
Twisted, page 7
“You're not supposed to be in here.”
“What are those?” Mel asked. She didn't care what he thought. She wanted an explanation. “You told me the name Patsy wasn't familiar to you, but you have three pill bottles prescribed to that name? What is going on?”
Blaine placed his hand on the desk and closed his eyes. Mel only continued to stare at him, her chest heaving.
“Blaine?” She demanded. “Why do you have a bunch of pills that don't belong to you? You lied to me.”
Blaine turned a stern gaze on Mel. When he spoke, his voice came out low, dangerous. “Get out of here.”
Mel stood her ground. “Tell me why you have those.”
“It's none of your goddamn business, Melanie,” Blaine spat at her. He straightened, his hulking form towering over her. Mel instinctively stepped back, away from his rage. Still, she couldn’t let it go.
“Tell me.”
“Get out,” he growled again. When she didn’t move he spoke more forcefully. “Get out!”
He stormed toward her; his hand poised to hit.
“Please, I’m sorry,” she begged, cowering away from him. “I didn’t mean it.”
The sickening slap sounded worse than the pain that rang through her skull. She’d gotten used to the agony.
Mel leapt back, the flash disorienting and confusing her. Blaine still stood by the desk, his eyes wild and angry. She turned on her heel and scampered out of the office. She didn't stop moving until she was in their shared bathroom with the door locked behind her.
She drew several steady breaths as she sat against the door. What had she seen? Who had she seen? She reached up and touched her cheek where the man struck her in her memories. It wasn't tender to touch but a phantom pain that seemed to reside in her mind. She'd felt him hit her and Blaine hadn't even moved.
Mel closed her eyes and pressed her forehead into her hands. Was she losing her mind?
“Melanie?” Blaine's voice came from behind the door and he gently knocked on it. All anger he'd had only moments before seemed to vanish. “Melanie, let me in.”
Mel considered ignoring him, unsure who she was opening the door for. The sadness in his tone made her reconsider, and she clicked the lock then moved aside so he could push the door open.
Blaine found her on the floor, her arms wrapped around her legs, and he immediately bent down and took her into his arms. She stiffened at his touch but didn’t push away.
“I am so sorry.” Blaine buried his face in her hair. “I didn’t mean to yell.”
Mel stayed quiet in his hold as her breathing calmed. She didn’t know what came over her, or where the fear came from. She’d never been scared of Blaine before. What had happened this time?
He loosened his hold and pulled away to see her face. “Are you okay?”
Mel nodded. She wanted to ask about the pills, to ask what happened and why he'd gotten so angry. She wanted to know why he had them. But she didn't want to see his anger again. She'd never had him direct his anger so pointedly at her. It wasn't something she wanted to relive.
Blaine cocked his head to the side, his thick eyebrows furrowed. “Melanie?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Relief washed over his face as he stood and pulled her to her feet.
“What were you looking for?”
“The account information for Sanders,” Mel said. “We're going to take Candy shopping.”
Blaine led her from the bathroom. He went to the dresser where he'd discarded his wallet, pulled out a card and handed it to her.
Mel took the card and looked away from Blaine. “Do you think it's a good idea?”
“Shopping?” Blaine asked.
“No, having Candy join us.” Mel chewed on her lower lip. She didn’t know anything about the girl and still wasn’t sure about the drugs she’d found the first day they met. Blaine had acted strange about them even then. It seemed risky, though, with Amara gone … Mel was having a hard time seeing past the potential of having another girl on board.
“You can trust Jackie's judgment.”
“I hope so.”
Blaine grabbed his book and settled on the bed. “Call if you need anything.”
Mel didn't answer him as she left the room and headed back downstairs to where Jackie and Candy waited. As she approached the sitting room, she overheard them talking in hushed tones.
“You really think it will be worth it?” Candy asked Jackie.
Mel hesitated and peeked around the corner, gauging her friend's reaction.
At first, Jackie didn't answer, only looked away, but not before Mel caught a flash of remorse cross her face. Jackie rarely opened up about her past, and Mel only learned about the girl through glimpses. It wasn’t the first time Mel suspected Jackie wished her life had taken a different turn. It was a question Mel didn’t want to know the answer to. She needed Jackie more than anyone. Sometimes more than Blaine.
Finally, Jackie spoke. “Totally. You'll love the job and the money. Trust me.”
Unwilling to give Candy a chance to respond, Mel entered the room. “Got the card.”
“Great.” Jackie looked at her with a smile, though her tightly-pursed lips gave way to the strain. It wasn't genuine. They stood and followed Mel into the front hallway.
“We're not getting anything too flashy,” Mel said as she slipped on her shoes. “Candy's innocence will sell enough.”
Jackie frowned.
“What's wrong?” Mel asked. Jackie had been in a mood since she arrived at the house. Mel didn't care for the games. Sometimes she wished Jackie would say what she was thinking.
Jackie shook her head. “She's a person, you know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sometimes you talk about us like we're nothing but props in your lifestyle,” Jackie said. “I get it that in a way we are. It doesn't need to be reminded. Maybe if you were a bit more sympathetic, Amara would still be around.”
Mel’s expression tightened. “Jackie, you know it's not like that at all. I work hard to keep you all safe and employed.”
“I know,” Jackie said. “You can just be really abrasive sometimes. Someone needed to say something. I'm not the only one who thinks it.”
“You choose to be here,” Mel said. The girls were a means to an end in a way. She didn’t treat them like they were worthless. She cared for them. Made sure they made good money. Made sure they were STI tested. Made sure they were comfortable with the clients they serviced. It wasn't like Mel just threw them to the wolves to fend for themselves. So she was a little rough around the edges, so what? She had to be in her choice of work. Someone had to keep things in line.
“I know.” Jackie turned back to Candy and smiled. “You ready?”
Candy nodded.
“Good. I'll drive.” Mel grabbed the keys from the hook near the door and led the other girls to the car. “We'll head to Sanders. They'll have more than enough that’ll suit you.”
Candy fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist as she climbed into the back seat. She didn't stop fidgeting even when they were waiting outside the store.
Jackie glanced back at her from the front seat. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Candy looked at Jackie before averting her gaze outside once more.
“You sure?” Jackie cast a sideways look at Mel.
“Yeah.” Candy didn't look at her this time.
“You can tell us, you know,” Jackie said. “We won't judge.”
Candy looked at Mel then bit down on her lip and her gaze fell to her hands in her lap. She obviously didn't trust Mel not to judge her. After a moment, she looked up at Jackie.
“I guess I'm just not sure what to expect.”
Mel frowned and exchanged a glance with Jackie. “You're not a virgin ...”
Candy gave a stiff laugh. “God, no.”
“Oh, good,” Jackie laughed. “That might have posed a problem. Then what's bothering you?”
“I'm a little scared,” Candy said, avoiding Mel's gaze in the rearview mirror.
“I understand. I was too,” Jackie said. “Mel looks out for us and I promise you, the money is worth it.”
“I could use good money,” Candy mumbled the words as she looked down at her hands.
“We all can,” Mel agreed.
Jackie waved to the store they were parked in front of. “Makes coming to places like this much more fun. No window shopping for us.” She winked and got out of the car.
“Don't worry about it,” Mel said. “It's always scary at first. You'll do great.”
It wasn't the first time she'd given this speech to a new girl, and it wouldn't be the last. Most of the women she came across in her line of work were frightened and vulnerable. It came with the territory. The majority of them opened up as soon as they realized they were good at it and the men who hired them were desperate for their attention. Also, the girls were the ones with all the power. Women who once felt used, abused, or tossed aside, found new confidence in the control of their bodies and the money they made off it. What happened with Amara was rare and really a fault of Mel’s for not vetting the job better. It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.
Candy followed them up the sidewalk to the brightly-lit fashion store nestled between a fancy spa and an upscale jewelry boutique. Candy looked at it and started fidgeting with her bracelet.
Jackie caught her hand. “Relax, we go to places like this all the time.”
The door chimed as Jackie pushed it open and three sets of eyes fell on them; saleswomen. One of them gasped and a short, fit brunette bounced to their side.
“Oh my gosh, Brielle Jeffries,” the brunette saleswoman said to Jackie. She looked no older than twenty and blinked her large hazel eyes at them. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Mel rolled her eyes. This wasn't the first time Jackie was mistaken for the well-known heiress.
Jackie simply smiled and shook her head. “I'm sorry …” Jackie trailed off and glanced at the woman's name tag, “… Debbie, you seem to have me confused. I'm not Brielle Jeffries.”
Debbie glanced between Jackie and the other girls for several seconds before her eyebrows folded together and she lowered her gaze.
“I'm so sorry,” Debbie said. “I heard Brielle and her family had returned to town, and you look so similar. Forgive my confusion.”
“Of course,” Jackie said. “You aren't the first.”
Another woman approached from behind them. Mel knew her as soon as she smiled.
“Hello, Ms. Parker,” the woman said, gently pushing Debbie behind her.
“Hi, Angela.”
Angela's gaze went to Jackie. “Forgive Debbie. It's only her first week.”
“It's no problem.”
Mel shrugged. “It's happened too many times to count.” She stepped aside and pulled Candy forward toward the saleswoman. “This is Ms. Long, and we are looking for a few outfits suitable for a fancy party. We're hoping to impress. There will be some very eligible bachelors there.”
“On Mr. Roche's account?” Angela asked.
“Yes.” Mel passed Angela the card Blaine gave her.
Angela smiled and took Candy's arm. “Very good. Come this way, Ms. Long. I'm certain we have something perfect.”
Mel moved to follow them further into the store but Jackie grabbed her arm and held her back.
“Did you know the Jeffries were back in town?” Jackie asked in a hushed tone. The Jeffries were well known as owners of a North American industry-leading homebuilding company, Jeffco Homes. None of them had lived in the area for years.
A few months ago, when Jackie had been drinking, she divulged a past relationship with the heiress, Brielle. She didn't give many details, and when Mel asked about it the next day, Jackie was tight-lipped and embarrassed. They'd never spoken about it since.
“Whole family is back,” Mel said. “As of last week. Don't you read the news? Or the tabloids at least.”
Jackie frowned. “It's strange, isn't it?”
“Why?” Mel asked. “Are you expecting a phone call?”
“No,” Jackie said quickly. “I'm just surprised, is all. I didn't think they'd come back.”
“I don't try to understand the complexities of families like the Jeffries. Besides, they're a wealthy bunch. Maybe we can get a few clients out of it.”
“Ms. Parker?” Angela called from a rack near the back of the store.
Mel glanced at Jackie, wondering if she would speak again. Jackie looked deep in thought. Whatever was going through her mind, she wasn't about to divulge.
Mel turned and went to join Candy.
Chapter 11
Brielle Jeffries
A cold wind whistled through a crack in the stone wall. The only light in the room was a dim candle that flickered every time Brielle shivered. She worried it would go out. When it did, she'd scream and he'd return.
She watched the dancing flame, casting obscure shadows throughout the small square room. She pictured demons, monsters, ghosts—all means of terrible creatures could live in the darkness. None were as scary as him.
Brielle pulled the covers over her head, willing herself to be silent, to not make a sound. Even if the candle went out, she'd be quiet.
Another breeze whistled through the crack and the candle dimmed. Brielle withdrew her head from beneath the covers and watched the shadows shrink, then grow, scaling up the wall. Her breathing hitched when one looked like it moved toward her, fingers stretching as if to grasp. Her heart thudded. She'd been scared every night since he put her down here.
There was a thump above and she glanced to the roof as another breeze extinguished the candle. She told herself not to scream. She told herself nothing could get her here. Then she heard another thud and couldn't stop the sound. She screamed. She screamed loud. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks until her screams turned into uncontrollable sobbing.
She heard footsteps descending the stairs. Her crying stopped. She held her breath as the door creaked open, and he entered, holding a candle in his hand. It lit up his round, youthful face. He looked like a boy, but Brielle knew he was a grown man. His hair was long, raven black, and his eyes were hazel, almost green.
“Poor little Relly,” he said, placing the candle on the desk and coming to sit on the edge of her bed. “Were you frightened, my love?”
Brielle didn't answer, holding her breath as he reached out and brushed her bangs away from her forehead.
“You must not be scared, dear one,” he said. “I will always keep you safe.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Relly.”
When he moved away to light her candle, she released a quiet breath. Maybe he would go and leave her alone tonight. It wasn’t the case, as he turned back to her with the familiar grin.
“I'm so glad you're here, Relly,” he said, moving to the bed again. He cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her, this time on the mouth.
Brielle tensed, knowing what came next. She closed her eyes, freezing under his contact. Then something in her changed. She reached away from him, seeking for what she’d stashed between the bed and the wall. Her hand grasped it and swung, lodging the broken piece of metal in his arm.
He screamed, falling backwards from her. Brielle didn't hesitate. She jumped to her feet, hopped around him, and bolted up the stairs. She reached outside and found herself in the middle of a yard, the bright, round moon her only light source. Looking in every direction, she sought out the woods and ran toward them.
His screams came from within the bunker as he pursued her.
Brielle ran hard, dodging trees and other obstacles as she bolted through the thickly wooded area. When her lungs started to heave, and her legs started to slow, she sought cover, finding a space between the massive roots of an old oak tree and the soft ground below. Crawling inside, it looked like it may have belonged to an animal. Hopefully, the creature wouldn’t return soon.
She crouched in the darkness of the home, hidden from sight, and fought to keep her breathing shallow and quiet. His footsteps echoed through the forest, snapping branches as he searched for her. Brielle allowed a single breath of relief when he ran past where she hid.
Brielle sat up in bed. Her sheets and clothes were soaked with her cold sweat, and her heart raced as she gasped for a steady breath. She hated when her dreams used memories to haunt her. Shaking it off, she crawled out of bed and headed to the shower.
She'd had the dream before; she'd dealt with it more than once. Like every time, she'd take a hot shower and forget it. She was glad no one was around to see it happen. If her parents knew she was having these dreams again, it would be more evidence for them to prove she was crazy.
Brielle stared out the fifth-story window, watching birds fly by and listening to the soft buzz of the moving traffic below. Seated in an oversized armchair, she had tuned out of the conversation with her shrink. These meetings felt pointless now.
Dr. Miranda Konch cleared her throat and drew Brielle's attention back to her.
Brielle glanced over at the older woman seated across from her. Her greying hair was tied in a tight bun on top of her head and accentuated her sharp, pointed features. Her taupe eyes bore into Brielle's and seemed to search for a reply. Brielle had nothing for her. After nearly fourteen years with this woman, Brielle neither felt closer to her nor comfortable in her presence. It was easier when she was still at the clinic. At least there she met with various shrinks and only saw Miranda once a month at most.
“Do you want to talk about the weekend?” Miranda asked.
Brielle looked back toward the window. “No.”
A page flipped. “Are you sure? It's only your first gala back in your parents' reality. It's okay if you're having a hard time.”
Brielle stifled a laugh. She couldn't be honest with the shrink, knowing her parents heard every last word they spoke in these appointments. Miranda had reported their conversations since Brielle was a little girl. Being an heiress and an only child didn't entitle her to privacy. Money could buy all the conversations in the world.
