When she sees the look on my face, she waves away the implication. “It’s not like she kills you. Jesus, stop going so dark with it.”
“So what does she do then?” I ask, growing frustrated. Cain is still staring at Angie like he can’t believe she was ever one of Madam Karina’s girls, but I’m not sure it’s that big of a surprise. She carries herself like she’s ancient, but she could have worked in that house as few as ten years ago.
I could see it, Wilson says, nodding. She’s got spice, ya know?
Angie’s eyes travel to a large window and, slowly, her pupils begin to dilate. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. That’s Eric’s car. You have got to get out of here. Now!”
Chapter Forty-Three
Veiled Threats
In the distance, a sedan rumbles down the road toward us. It’s loud and persistent and a sad shade of gold that brings shame upon its kind. I can’t make out who’s driving, but Angie is hysterical, shoving us toward the door and yelling to move faster.
The kettle screams from the kitchen, and Cain turns like he’s going to take care of it.
“What are you thinking?” Angie roars. “Get out. Go!”
I grab Cain’s arm, and we stumble down the trailer steps. Her dogs shoot out the door and nearly take us down. Barking like mad, the two canines race down the dirt road toward Eric’s car. The driver taps the brakes when the dogs get within a few feet of the vehicle.
It’s all the time we need.
Cain lunges into the car, and I dive in after him.
“Why is it so bad that we’re here?” I yell as Cain throws the car into reverse.
“Because they’ll figure out what we’re doing. Asking questions.”
Cain backs up just enough and then slams on the accelerator. We zip past Angie’s trailer, but not before I spot her running.
“Stop,” I tell Cain.
He hits the brakes, and a second later Angie’s face appears on my side of the car. I roll down the window, glancing in the rearview to see Eric cruising closer.
Angie touches my cheek, and I’m surprised by her gentleness. “Do what the madam says, just the way she says it, and you’ll be okay.”
When I don’t respond, anger tightens her features.
“Promise me!” she demands.
Startled by her outburst, I say, “I promise, Angie.”
She looks at Cain and waves him away.
That’s all the permission he needs. Cain lays on the gas, and we zoom away, leaving that blasted gold sedan in the distance.
It isn’t until we’re several miles down the road before I ask the question that’s haunted me since we sped away. “He wouldn’t hurt her, would he?”
Cain shakes his head. “No way.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’d kill him if he did.”
Just like that. Not a drop of fear or hesitation in his voice. No lowered head or quiet words.
Because I’d kill him if he did.
Cain may keep to himself and let things lay when he shouldn’t. But I can tell he’s gaining confidence and with it, the courage to fight when something is wrong. Maybe the change is me. Maybe he just needed someone in his corner again.
Am I in his corner?
I study him as he propels us toward Madam Karina’s home. Those powerful arms that made me feel safe when lightning tore the sky. That seldom smile that warms my insides. The thing he says to me over and over: I wouldn’t be afraid of you, no matter what you did.
You’re falling for him, Wilson whispers.
I fall for no one, I respond.
Wilson chuckles softly. You fall for everyone, my rose.
Wilson’s right, but this feels different. Poppet feels like a friend I can trust. And Angie, though she puts on a tough front, feels like a woman who truly cares.
And Cain.
Cain feels like a weather-worn boulder that will stand the test of time. Through rain and snow and flood and fire, he’ll remain rooted in place. The earth will move around him. And I will lie next to him through it all and hold on.
He wants me to hold on.
We are opposites, and we are the same.
Me, the girl who needs someone to cling to, and he, the boy who’s desperate for someone to protect.
What could the two of us overcome together?
A grenade.
And a volcano.
Cain reaches over and grabs my knee, squeezes. I see the way his jaw works, like he’s unsure if touching me is okay. But here’s what I do—
I take his hand.
When we get back to the house, Madam Karina pushes open the door and crosses her arms. “Go inside, Cain,” she says when we step out of the car. “I’d like to talk to Domino for a moment.”
Cain pauses on the front porch and looks back at me, ensuring I’m okay. I give him the slightest nod before he heads inside, bag slung over his shoulder.
“Did you enjoy yourself today?” The evening sun shines down on Madam Karina like stage lights illuminating a rising star.
The way she says it, it’s like she wants me to find out her secrets. To dig them from her dress pockets and roll them between my fingers. I meet her gaze. “It was wonderful. Thank you.”
“I trust this satiated your wanderlust.”
I cock my head, ready to play her game. “I don’t have wanderlust, Madam Karina. I only wanted to learn more about the town we call home.”
“And why is that?”
“Because one day I’ll run this establishment beside you. And knowing your customers is the first step to improvement.”
“You think my business needs improvement?”
I move closer, but stay at the bottom of the stairs. “I think between the two of us, we could make that sister of yours itch with envy.”
Madam Karina doesn’t laugh the way I expected she might. She just stares at me, and I stare at her—two wild beasts wondering whether they could take the other, and also questioning whether they have to be enemies. After all, it can get lonely in these sweltering desert plains.
As I study the madam, I think of Angie.
Do what the madam says, and you’ll be okay.
I promised Angie I wouldn’t challenge Madam Karina, but I also saw the look on her face. That complete and utter submission that comes from years of fearing someone. I know I can’t stay here, but I’ll follow the madam’s rules and earn the cash I need to leave.
Though if what Angie says is true, she’ll probably try to stop me, or at least rip me off.
If she does, Wilson says, I’ll take the cash and I’ll get us out of here.
Steal the money? I ask Wilson.
Take what is rightfully ours.
“I do hope you make the right decision, Domino,” Madam Karina says, the lines around those hooded eyes softening. “You are an untamable creature, but that’s what endears you to me. Because you remind me so much of myself when I was your age. You are a child in need of a mother, and I am a woman with a hole in her heart. Both of us in desperate need for the feel of a proper home.”
That right there.
That’s what scares me the most.
That scares you? Wilson asks. She couldn’t do scary if I wove marionette strings through her and controlled her myself.
But I know Wilson is lying.
I climb the stairs and start to pass by, but she grabs my arm and jerks me against her. “I don’t like it when girls scheme behind my back. If you ever decide you’d like to leave, you must apply.”
I nod, surprised by her strong grip.
“We must trust each other.” She lets go and steps back, allowing me to pass. I’m almost to the staircase that will take me to the third floor when she turns in the doorway and says, “I would never keep you from leaving. It’s just that I don’t like being run out on.”
I don’t turn around.
Wilson tells me not to.
“I understand,” I whisper.
“I pray that you do,” she says
evenly. “Because I know it’d be extremely difficult for Poppet if you left.”
I whirl around and measure the look on her face. She’s threatening me. Plain and simple. And I do not respond well to threats. Wilson doesn’t, either. I lower my gaze but speak in a clear voice so that she understands I’m serious. “Poppet has nothing to do with the decisions I make. She will live a happy, safe life wherever she chooses.”
“Because you’ll be here to watch after her,” the madam challenges. “Because if you weren’t, I’d hate to think—”
I raise my eyes. “She will be happy because if someone made her unhappy, I’d make them pay.”
Madam Karina laughs. “Goodness! You are a spitfire, Domino. But one thing you are not is a protector. If you want that girl to have a wonderful life, then be her friend. Be present. Understand? That’s all I’m saying.”
I turn and head up the stairs without responding. I’m almost out of earshot when I hear Madam Karina mutter under her breath, “The mouth on that girl. Does she expect me to be frightened of her?”
Not her, Wilson replies quietly. Me.
Chapter Forty-Four
See Me
It’s Saturday night, six days after Cain and I went into town. Jack is back with a bronze coin in his pocket, and it’s going to be mine by the end of the evening. He helped me become a Tulip, he said, and he’ll help me become a Lily next.
Bold words.
But, so far, he’s stood by his promises.
I’m back to drawing in my sketchpad to entertain the customers. I draw their dreams, their lovers, anything they want. My illustrations aren’t always good, but that’s not what they care about. They care about my hair falling over my shoulder, and that I let them push it back behind my ear. They care that when they pat my knee, I don’t kidney-punch them.
And they care that when they speak softly in my ear, I don’t pull away.
All the Tulip girls allow the customers to touch them. Not in especially intimate ways, but it’s a line I stepped over alongside Poppet. Sometimes it feels like Madam Karina challenged me with this, and each time I let a stranger’s fingers brush my skin, I’m showing her I can handle anything she throws my way.
Poppet and I were in third and fourth place last night, which means we’ll have to come in first or second tonight to have a shot at finishing the week at the top of the class. The Tulips aren’t particularly competitive, but they have a way of stealing clients without using words. It’s in the way they look at us, with disgust. The customers see it. Of course they do. That’s what the senior Tulips want. And it doesn’t take long before our clients wonder if they chose wrong.
Tonight, especially, they seem to know the stakes are high. I don’t think any of them want a place among the Lilies. But they don’t want us to have it, either.
When an older woman lays a hand on my arm and strokes my skin, asking sweetly for a glass of tea, I bow my head and stand. Jack watches as I cross the room and approach the gold rollaway cart. Upon it is china embellished with hand-painted tulips, sugar cubes, and thick cream. I’m reaching for the teapot when a Tulip cuts me off. She snatches the pot and pours much slower than necessary, then takes her time with the sugar and cream. Meanwhile, my customer is waiting for me to return.
I grit my teeth and wait for her to finish, but once she does, another Tulip blocks my path and does the same thing. I glance over my shoulder at Poppet, and she rolls her eyes before returning her attention to a young boy who’s twirling her hair around his thumb. When the second Tulip walks away, I push myself against the cart and grab for the pot. But the moment I have it in my hands, a third Tulip snaps up the sugar and creamer and strides away with both.
“Hey,” I say. “I need those, too.”
The girl sits down on a suede couch and holds them in her hands like goose eggs. A man on her right lays his hand on her upper thigh and pays no mind to the things she snatched. I close the distance between us and notice the man isn’t even drinking tea. Neither is the Tulip.
“May I have those?” I say to her, barely controlling my anger. “I’m serving tea to a customer.”
The girl smiles, but doesn’t respond.
I groan. “I know you can hear me.”
The man looks up at me and then pats the couch beside him, but I’d rather break his nose than join their party of two.
“Look, I don’t want any trouble. I just need those.” I reach for the items in the girl’s hands, but she rips them away.
She glances at the man and grins. “Do you hear something? I think I must have left a window open. It’s like the wind is whistling through here.”
“Are you cold?” the man asks, putting his arm around her.
“This isn’t funny. Give them to me.” I reach for the sugar and cream a second time, and again she jerks them out of reach.
“Hey, Breanne,” the Tulip says to another girl. “Do you hear something?”
Breanne shrugs. “I certainly don’t see anything.”
I turn around and note that the older woman I was making tea for has moved on to a different Tulip. My sketchpad lies open on our empty table, a half completed drawing of her pug, Sadie, exposed to the world. Blood simmers beneath my skin, and Wilson readies himself for a fight.
Want me to hit her? he asks. Something tells me she’d see you real quick then.
I can handle this.
Can you? Even your Jack seems unimpressed.
Wilson’s right. Jack is talking to another Tulip with long brown hair that shines, even in the dark. She has full eyebrows and a nose that turns up at the end. I hate her. Even though I’m not sure I care about having Jack’s attention, I hate her for taking it.
My eyes scan the room. Tulips ignoring me. Tulips laughing at me. Tulips scooping up all the bronze coins and letting them slip between their fingers with carelessness. I need those coins. I need them because I can’t stay here any longer, and I can’t start over without more money to my name, either. I’m not strong enough.
I can handle this, if only you’ll let me, Wilson coos.
No, I can fix this myself.
My pulse beats inside my neck as I race toward Poppet’s and my bedroom. White sheets, white curtains, white slip chair—orange spray paint. I grab it from my dresser and hurry back into the Tulips’ drawing room. Once there, I watch on, breathing hard, as the girls and customers and even the moon glowing through the window ignores me.
I’m tired of being a Tulip.
Tired of being invisible.
Tired of unanswered questions and Madam Karina’s veiled threats and strange hands roaming across my body without ever seeing my face.
I raise the can to a virginal white wall. I pop the top and shake what little remains—click, clank, click, clank. Then I start spraying. Almost immediately, I hear the Point Girl for the Tulips yelling. But I keep going. It takes only a matter of seconds. I’m not worried about shadows or dripping paint.
My arm moves quickly, my tongue pressed into my cheek.
Wilson holds his breath.
When I’m done, I turn and face the room. Every last person is eyeballing me. It’s what I wanted, but now it feels unbearable. All those browns and greens and blues trying to burrow inside my mind. The woman whose dog I was drawing stands and smiles. She doesn’t come toward me, but she seems pleased by this sudden outburst.
The Point Girl speaks up. “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing? You’ve got a lot of nerve destroying property that isn’t yours. Wait until I tell the madam what you…”
I run from the room as her voice trails off.
I leave Poppet behind. I leave her behind with the giant block letters I wrote along the wall.
SEE ME
Wilson claps inside my head. I would have taken a more physical approach, but not bad.
It’s Jack who stops my retreat. He’s all smiles and sunshine, and it feels wrong. I need to be alone right now, but his hands slide around my waist like we’re two years into a c
ommitted relationship. But we’re not in a relationship. He’s a customer, and I’m a Tulip. That’s all this is.
He licks his lips and dips his head. “Domino.”
“I need to be alone.”
“I understand,” he says. “But right now, I need to kiss you.”
I stiffen in his arms. It’s not like I didn’t know where this was headed. Wilson never trusted Jack, not for a moment. And if I become a Lily, I’ll have to get over being afraid of a simple kiss. But right now, with fury coursing through my body, I’d be more inclined to disembowel him.
He must sense my hesitation, because he brushes his lips against my ear and says, “I see you, Domino. I saw you the first time I walked into this messed-up place, and I see you now.”
I close my eyes against his words, but my heart still thumps painfully from adrenaline. He’s saying the right things. Does he know it the same way Madam Karina does? “I’ve worked hard to ensure you move up. Because that’s what you wanted. But now…now I’d like to kiss you.”
Without asking for permission, he moves his mouth to mine. I gasp against his lips, but I don’t pull away. Not when the tip of his tongue touches my tongue, and not when his fingers crawl down my sides, inching over my serpent tattoo. He sees me. He sees me.
But as his hands move closer to my chest than my sides, my brain begins to spin. Did he really help me because that’s what I wanted? Or was it because this was what he wanted? After all, he couldn’t be touching me this way if I were still a Carnation. And am I forgetting the way he drugged me when I was a Daisy?
I don’t trust Jack.
I don’t trust him, and I don’t want this.
I can help with that, Wilson says.
No sooner do I think this than my knee jerks upward. I hit him in the junk, and he bends at the waist, groaning in pain.
“What the hell?” he snarls as he fights to catch his breath.
Touch her again, Wilson snarls. Do it. I dare you!
I turn and run down the stairs. Behind me, Jack yells hollow words. He cares about me. He’s sorry. But mostly, what I hear is the last part.
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