He strokes my hair gently and I wish I knew what he was thinking. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod and he carries on stroking. “This…I want you to know that it wasn’t a game plan or anything. I didn’t insist on bringing you up here because I wanted to…” He trails off and I smile.
“I know you didn’t.”
“Do you?”
I nod and he goes quiet again. I put my hand over his, linking our fingers.
“I asked around about you,” he says.
“Oh yeah?”
“When Starkie assigned you as my tutor. I knew who you were, but I wanted to find out what you were about.”
“And what did you find out?”
“Not very much. None of my friends knew anyone that had dated you, and I couldn’t figure it out. Pretty girl like you and no line of dudes at your door.”
I snort as though I’m disagreeing and he huffs behind me. “Prettiest girl that I’ve seen in a long time,” he says and I actually blush, grateful that he can’t see my face. My mouth feels dry, my mind skittering over where he might be going with all these questions and observations. Just as I’m starting to panic, my cellphone rings. I’m contemplating not answering it but then Dominic rolls away from me. I turn, thinking he’s going to pass me my purse, but then I see his hand disappear inside it and my heart stops.
The phone continues to ring, but Dominic doesn’t seem to be searching for it anymore. His eyes are in the bag; his hand draws out a huge heap of loose bills that I stuffed inside. He looks up at me, confusion in his eyes. The money quite obviously isn’t tips. Even my most generous and desperate customers only tip tens and twenties.
Eventually, my voicemail must kick in. I grab the t-shirt that I sleep in and tug it over my head. I don’t want to be naked when Dominic finally finds his voice again.
He stares at the money, then rests it on the bed next to him.
“Don’t,” I say, suddenly remembering what else is stuffed into that bag, but it’s too late. I can see from the way his hand is shaped that he’s taken hold of the vibrator.
He holds it up, looking momentarily shocked. His eyes find mine and they look dead. All the sweet affection and heated passion have slipped from them, to be replaced with the expression I expected when he saw me at the club.
Disgust.
Anger.
I turn away and cover my face with my hands. My cheeks are burning. My throat too, as I try to swallow down my emotions.
I expect him to ask questions. I expect accusations. I expect him to shout at me.
Slut.
Whore.
Worthless.
What happens is so much worse.
I hear him gathering his clothes, but I don’t turn.
He doesn’t say a word when he leaves.
The click of the door is the only sound to let me know he’s gone.
And then I’m back where I started.
Alone.
16
Hannah
Dreams and nightmares; we have to feed them to keep them alive.
That was his message to me, stuffed deep inside the envelope on a scrap of paper so small, I missed it at first.
The words lacerate me because I know from experience just how true they are. My nightmares follow me daily. Every mistake I’ve made in my life hangs like a dead weight around my neck. I sit and look at those words, tears spilling from my eyes.
Dominic left.
He left and he said nothing.
And do you know what? I don’t blame him. I’m not even angry with him, just with myself. I’m fucking furious with myself because this is all my fault. I had a rule for a reason. I made a promise to myself because I know what I’m like. I have bad judgment. I can’t be trusted. I’m weak and I let this shit happen to me, knowing how much it’s going to wreck me when it all goes wrong.
Why did I let myself hope that things with Dominic might be different?
I don’t even know. I brush my tears away with the back of my hand and begin to sort out the loose bills that he left on my bed. Inside my chest, my heart feels like a piece of meat that has been smashed with a tenderizer. It feels thin and fragile, ruined and raw.
The money piles up in my hand, each bill seeming like another stamp of shame on my life. When it’s all neatly stacked, I find the other $2,000 and bundle it all together. I really need to get to the bank so that I can make the transfers. I slip it underneath my mattress again for safe keeping until tomorrow.
I take a shower even though it’s late. I need to wash away what happened, physically and emotionally. I need to try to eradicate the feelings that have me weeping. When I’m clean, I lie down and try to sleep. The pillow smells of Dominic’s cologne, and fresh tears spring to my eyes. I strip the pillowcase and toss it on the floor, resting my head on the bare pillow. I cover my face with my hands and bawl.
I don’t know how long I cry for. Locked in my distress, I have no concept of time.
Eventually, it’s quiet and I’m almost drifting off to sleep when there’s a knock at the door. I think it must be Dominic, coming back to say all the things I was expecting or maybe coming back to apologize for leaving. What the fuck does he think he has to say to me that is going to make a damn difference to how I feel right now? For a second I remember our tutoring arrangement. Maybe that’s why he’s being so persistent. He got home and realized that he’ll be off the team if he doesn’t get his grades up, and without me, he stands less of a chance.
Selfish bastard.
I’m fuming by the time I reach the door. It’s the middle of the night and all Dominic can think about is his own life and his own problems.
I yank the door open, ready to yell in his face.
Except it isn’t him standing in my doorway.
17
Dominic
I didn’t waste any time putting my shirt on. I didn’t even pull on my shoes before I left Hannah’s room. My insides were molten, my mind raging.
What the fuck?
My fist was curled around my possessions because I knew that if it was loose…I’d be breaking bones.
There was so much money in her purse. And that thing.
I don’t even want to think about it. I just had to get out of there.
All the way home I feel like a fool, thinking that she was just waitressing in that stupid club. When Harrison said that Connor had gone off with a waitress I’d only worried that Hannah might be doing the same thing for a second before I discounted the idea.
She’s a smart girl.
Bright. Sassy and sweet.
She’s got a great future ahead of her. Why the fuck would she sell herself so short?
I want to go back to that club, find the fucking sleazy manager and make him pay. I want to tear that place up so that no one can go there and ruin any more lives.
I want to punch the wall because of my own fucking disappointment. Maybe I’m an idiot for hoping that what I did with Hannah was going to lead to something bigger.
I just don’t get it. I know she said she needs the money, but that was thousands of dollars. What does she need that kind of money for that she would sell sex to make it?
When I walked her up to her dorm I wanted to tell her to quit that job. I wanted to tell her that it’s not safe and that no money is worth the kind of risk she was taking. I wanted to tell her that she was selling herself cheap and that she’d get a reputation that she might not be able to shake.
Most of all I wanted to tell her that I didn’t like it. The idea of all those men looking at her in so little had my blood boiling with jealousy.
I wanted to rage with all the possessiveness and protectiveness that I felt, but I didn’t.
Now I think I should have.
If I had, we never would have gone this far. I would never have felt the rush that came with being inside her, with knowing her that way. The proprietorial feelings that I had at the club came rushing back, and for a while she was mine, just the way I wanted.
Now I realize that all that was a mirage. A fucking pretense.
Now I realize that Hannah Star is anyone’s for the right price.
And you know the worst of it? I’m not even angry with her. She didn’t lie to me. She didn’t try to cover it up. She just turned away and hid her face.
She looked ashamed and that realization is like a shard of glass to my heart.
It doesn’t take long for me to get back to my dorm but once I’m there I don’t know what to do with myself. I can’t sleep. The images of the money, of her face when she realized that I’d seen it, are fucking haunting me.
I put the TV on, but nothing works. I have a beer but even that doesn’t take the edge off my fury. In the end, I throw on my running gear and head out into the night.
The air is damp but I welcome the fresh feel of it against my skin. I don’t wait to warm up, just set off into a pounding sprint that has my lungs screaming within minutes. The campus is never totally quiet and I see people making their way home from nights out. I do a full loop of campus, taking me past the library where I met Hannah that first day, past the canteen, the humanities building, the gym. I’m not really concentrating on my route, just using the exertion to clear my mind, so, when I end up at Hannah’s dorm again, I’m surprised. I keep going, not wanting her to see me out here running after what happened. That’s when I see the car.
Black as the night.
License plate D4RK.
I slow to a jog, eyes fixed to the back window, trying to see if there’s anyone inside. Just as I get closer the car starts to pull away. I speed up, trying to catch sight of the driver but he’s too fast. I slow to a stop, watching it leave.
What the fuck was that car doing back here again? Hannah was pretty terrified of the owner, but I don’t know. Does the money have something to do with it? I look up to the window of her dorm, hoping to see her so that I’d know she was okay, but the curtains are drawn and it seems as though the lights are off inside.
I stand, panting, lungs burning and sweat trickling down my back, and I have no idea what to do.
Should I go back up there? I have a pretty good idea of the reception I would get if I did. Should I call the police? And tell them what? That I suspect that a car that just left the lot belongs to someone who might be a threat? I have no proof. They’d laugh me off the line. I don’t have a choice. I have to call Hannah.
I pull my cellphone out of my shorts and dial her number. It’s the only thing I can think to do. I hear her answer, then silence. “Hannah,” I say, about to tell her that the car was here again. She doesn’t give me the chance.
“Dominic. Don’t call me again.”
The call clicks off and I’m left staring at the black screen. At least she’s okay.
But her voice. It was flat. Empty.
My finger hovers over the screen. I want to call her again and tell her the car was here. I need her to know, but I’m pretty certain she won’t pick up. Instead, I send her a message. When I press send, I don’t feel any relief. I should be up there, keeping her safe.
I was so angry when I left, but now? Now I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.
18
Dominic
I’ve got a bad feeling.
All day it follows me. I try calling Hannah’s phone, but she doesn’t pick up. I leave messages, but she doesn’t return my calls. I go to class, but I can’t concentrate. In the cold light of day, I don’t give a fuck about anything she’s done or hasn’t done. I just want to know she’s okay.
It’s late by the time I’m done with practice. I fumbled my way through it, much to Coach’s disgust. Where the ball usually feels like a part of me, it felt like a foreign object today. In the locker room, Harrison’s quiet. I know he wants to ask me what the fuck has got me moody and distracted, but he’s worried I’m going to blow up at him. When I’m dressed and ready to go I take a chance.
“You know Hannah Star, don’t you?”
“Course,” he says, eyebrows quirking with interest. “She’s friends with Jenna so we hang out sometimes.”
“Would you do me a favor?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“Can you call her for me? I just want to find out if she’s okay, but she’s not answering my calls.”
“I can ask Jenna,” he suggests. “She’d be more likely to pick up a call from a number she has saved as a contact.”
I nod, sitting on the bench while Harrison pulls out his cellphone and calls his girlfriend. I listen while he explains, and hear Jenna’s worried voice on the line.
“Why do you think she might not be okay?” he asks. “You’ve got Jenna worried.”
“Look, it might be nothing,” I tell him. “She was pissed at me when I last saw her, so she might just be ignoring me.” Harrison frowns like he wants to know what the fuck I’ve done to annoy his girlfriend’s BFF, but I continue before he gets the chance. “But she was a little spooked about something. Enough that I’m worried, okay.”
Harrison relays what I’ve told him and then hangs up.
“She’s gonna try Hannah’s number and call me back.”
I nod and we sit on the bench in silence. Most of the players have cleared out, but Connor is still toweling himself dry in the corner.
“You disappeared last night, Big D. Didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”
“Didn’t think you’d miss me,” I reply. “Especially seeing as you had other things on your mind.”
Connor grins. “I’ve always got other things on my mind.”
I take a deep breath and feel Harrison tense next to me. Connor’s grin is setting off my already frazzled nerves. “Easy, D,” Harrison mutters.
I bite my tongue, knowing that I’m so on edge that any kind of confrontation is going to end in blood and bruises. I’m already skating on thin ice with Coach after my performance at practice. I don’t want to risk a suspension.
Harrison’s phone rings and I turn, watching his face as he answers, Connor’s bullshit forgotten in a flash.
“Jenna,” Harrison says softly. I’m hit with a stabbing pang of jealousy at the obvious intimacy that they share. “Yeah. What? You can’t be serious…” Harrison glances my way and I shrug, wanting him to hurry the fuck up so he can relay to me what his girl is telling him. “Okay. I’ll tell him. See you later.”
Harrison hangs up and turns, looking grave.
My heart hits the floor, as all the terrible things that could have happened to Hannah since last night flash through my mind. I knew she was feeling scared, and I left her without saying a word. If anything has happened to her, I swear I’m gonna kill whoever did it. I’m going to do what I couldn’t do for Lana. I’m going to rid myself of the guilt with vengeance.
“She’s okay,” he says, still looking like someone ran over his dog. I’m momentarily stunned.
“She’s okay?” Harrison nods. “So why the miserable face?”
“She’s gone home.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s gone home. Jenna says she’s going to drop out, get a job near her mom and forget about college.”
“Why?” I say, feeling utterly incensed. What is she thinking, wasting all her intelligence? If she drops out now, that’s it. She’s never going to reach her full potential. Then I realize that I might have something very big to do with this decision. Is she scared that I’m going to tell my friends about what I saw in her bag? Does she not realize that I would never do that?
I guess not. For all the connection I feel with her and the physical closeness we shared, we haven’t spent enough time with each other to be able to predict how we’d react. I feel sick that she might be making such a huge life-changing decision based on my actions. Sick that in my confusion and anger, I might have made her scared enough to run away. I never wanted to be that man. The one who couldn’t control himself around women. I know what men like that can do; the fear they can instill; the lives they can ruin.
&
nbsp; I’m a big guy. A big guy with a temper. Sometimes that rage bubbles inside me and it feels like a volcano ready to spew lava. That’s why I walk away. It’s why I don’t stay around to have the difficult conversations. It’s why I couldn’t even get the words out to ask Hannah why she had thousands of dollars and a huge vibrator in her purse. I was so stunned, and all the worst possible explanations filled my head, but now, in the cold light of day, when I’ve been worried about a million terrible things that might have happened to her, I just want to laugh about it.
Hannah’s okay. She’s not lying in a ditch. She hasn’t been abducted, but she’s about to make the biggest mistake of her life, and I feel responsible.
I turn to Harrison. “Does Jenna know where Hannah’s home is?”
He shakes his head. “But Andie does.”
Andie. I have no idea who that is, but I’m about to find out.
19
Hannah
I’m sitting on my momma’s porch swing, looking out over her yard, which is barren and neglected. With no man around the house, there is only so much she can keep up with, and with Jenny around, there’s even less free time.
Jenny’s sitting next to me, playing with a doll, brushing its hair and fussing over pulling on a new outfit. Dolly Daisy is apparently going to a ball. I’ve only been home two days, but I’m already missing college. There’s an element of claustrophobia that comes with living in a small town. Only a few places to go. Only a few faces to see. Limits all around. I can almost see the rest of my life laying out before me. Same job for a lifetime. Growing old in this house that is already crumbling and dilapidated. The weight of that image sits on my chest like a boulder.
I hear the car before I see it; engine revving and the crackling of the stony ground beneath the tires. I turn my head to the direction of the road and see an old truck heading our way. It’s not until it’s almost at the house that I realize it’s almost identical to Dominic’s truck. I stare, watching as the vehicle is brought to a standstill and the driver’s door opens. I know it’s him as soon as I see his dark hair and the looming shape of him emerge. He stands, looks around, seeing so many things I never wanted him to see. It’s not that I’m ashamed of where I come from, it’s just that so much of the ruin around here is because of my mistakes.
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