The Escape

by Alice Ward

  It was such a jarring experience, my hands still trembled. I tried to find my thoughts and feelings on the matter, but my mind was a rambling blank space filled with only images of Roman’s face as he stepped up to defend me. Fragmented thoughts stabbed at me then disappeared, chased away by Roman’s touch on my arm.

  Rape… he’d said rape.

  I was almost raped.

  Tears welled in my eyes, but I forced them back. I was not going to cry. I’d cried too much these past two years.

  I found myself pacing the floor, unable to sleep.

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and I froze.

  Would the staff come looking for me? I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had to keep reminding myself of that.

  I’d signed a contract, and in it, I was only obligated to perform as the Butterfly. I’d had to commit to rehearsals for new numbers, stay fit and healthy enough to perform, and not leave campus during the work week. Meals, medical care, costumes, and a cell phone were provided for me. For my service, I was paid twelve hundred dollars a month and given a place to live. If I received tips, they were mine to keep tax-free.

  It wasn’t nearly enough to live on, and the management knew it, but for me, it was a place to stay where no one would ever know me. A sanctuary. They had no legal right to come for me. I’d refused a man’s advances, one I wasn’t contracted to accept. If they were going to try to force me to submit to Jack’s demands, it would be criminal.

  As I stood and listened, I realized it was Janis, a Jewel who lived across the hall. It was almost four in the morning, too early for her to be coming home from work. Most Jewels didn’t finish until between six and eight in the morning.

  I liked Janis, and at the moment, talking to someone who wouldn’t mess with my head was imperative, or I’d never sleep.

  Slipping my mask back on, I opened the door when I heard her keys in the lock.

  “Hey,” I said as I peeked my head out.

  “Hey you,” she yelped, somewhat startled. “Can’t sleep?”

  I was still wearing my cape, which she noticed with an odd look.

  “Nope, what about you? Why are you home so early?” I hoped there wasn’t something wrong.

  She looked at me distantly, her face a little sad. “No one made a bid for me tonight.” Her eyes dropped to the floor.

  “I’m sorry. Do you want to come in and have a glass of wine or a Coke or something? I could really use the company.” I immediately regretted the words as I didn’t want to talk about what just happened. Or Roman. I wanted to hold the feelings he’d stirred in me that I hadn’t felt in so long to myself.

  “Sure, why not.” Her voice was higher than usual, and I could tell not being chosen tonight somehow hurt her to her core.

  It was a strange life we led. Here it was, nearly morning, and she and I were just winding down. At least, it was odd for me. I often got home around midnight, with shifts beginning at ten. The show started at eleven and since I was the opening act, I was usually able to be in bed by the time the Jewels were leading some man to theirs. I did need to be up for rehearsal in the morning, while Janis would be free to sleep in — unless it was Monday, a meeting day.

  Janis entered my apartment, and I hung up her cape, then checked the mirror to make sure my mask was properly in place. I wore it around everyone. I always did. It was weird for people at first, but most everyone was used to it by now. I’d heard the stories and knew people thought I was grossly disfigured. To me, I was, but I’d seen worse scars than mine.

  “What’ll it be?” I asked in a chipper tone, trying to lighten her mood.

  “Do you have wine?” Her voice was small and distant as she glanced around the living room looking lost.

  “Of course. A glass of wine sounds great after the night I’ve had.” Dammit. I’d jumped right in.

  “Yeah, why are you home so late?” She looked at me with interest.

  I went into the kitchen and poured us both a glass of Merlot, then came out with a bag of chips and the wine.

  “Oh my god, chips.” Her eyes widened like a junk food junkie.

  “I know.” I smiled devilishly.

  “How’d you get them? In our meetings they are always going over what we can’t eat… ever.” She rolled her eyes, which then fixated on the contraband.

  “I can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you. Are you sure you want to chance it?’ I shook the bag enticingly before dumping its contents in a bowl and placing it on the coffee table. “The chip police might come get you.”

  I knew these women often lost sight of anything that wasn’t related to the fantasy and mystique Jewel represented.

  “I suppose a few won’t hurt,” she whispered as she took a chip and her glass of wine and curled up with them in her lap. Janis nibbled on her chip like the grease would go straight to her hips and give her away. “So, what happened?” Her eyes were lively, ready for late night gossip.

  “Jack Marshall made another offer, which I refused.” I stopped there, figuring the fewer details I shared about what happened outside, the better, especially because I hadn’t had the chance to work my way through the problem of Jack. But Janis was the one and only person I could call friend at the moment, other than Brandy, who I was losing faith in. I trusted Janis, to a degree. “Then this incredibly hot guy paid an insane amount of money to have a conversation with me.”

  Janis’ eyes bulged, and her mouth dropped open. “All you did was talk?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. Taking a sip of wine, the tart flavor filled my senses to blot out the way my blood sang at the thought of Roman.

  “Wow, sounds like you enjoyed yourself. That’s never happened to me.” Her expression turned worried. “I sure wish someone had picked me tonight, my Neiman Marcus credit card bill is due. Then there’s Johnny’s school tuition too.”

  I could tell her stress was mounting, so I changed directions. “How’s Johnny doing?” I asked as I tossed her a throw and tucked another around my legs.

  “He’s good. He got kindergarten student of the month last week. The school sent me pictures.” She eyed the bowl of chips and gripped her wine glass tightly. “His dad usually pays for boarding school, but Frank told me this was gonna be his last year paying for school. I’ll have to come up with the money myself or find another arrangement.”

  “Doesn’t he pay child support?” I seemed to be talented at bringing things up that were stressful to her.

  “We had an agreement. But him and his wife have apparently reconciled. They’re expecting a baby, and she’s put pressure on him to cut ties with us and reduce what he pays to the legal max.” Janis took a swig of wine. “He’s going to continue paying some expenses, but unless I hire a lawyer, I’ll have to take what I can get.”

  “Oh, Janis…”

  “That’s what I get for falling in love with a married man.” She paused, and her eyes went a bit dreamy and far away. “You know, even after all I’ve been through with him I still can’t help but want to be with him.” She shrugged. “Guess I’m not lucky at love.”

  “I know what you mean.” The way the words came out of my mouth gave away too much and made me wish I could confide in her, tell her to do whatever it took to be with the man she loved. Because one day it might be too late.

  Janis pierced me with her crystal blue eyes. “Even if you won’t talk about it, your sadness gives it away.”

  I looked down so she wouldn’t see the tears pricking my eyes. “Sometimes things are too painful to talk about.”

  She laid her hand on top of mine and squeezed, then sat back and let out a long breath. “Tell me more about this man who wanted to talk. Was he old and crusty, couldn’t get it up? Some of their fetishes are pretty weird. Did he expose himself or ask you if he could suck on your nose?”

  “What?! No!”

  She grinned. “It’s an actual fetish, nose sucking. There’s all kinds, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I once had a client who got turned on by wood. Not
just any wood now, it had to be a fine cherry wood finish.”

  I was stunned to silence for a moment then laughed. “I guess a good sand job would make all the difference. Splinters, you know?”

  Janis hooted. “Yep. When the hostess mistakenly provided a walnut table, he couldn’t get it up.”

  I fell over on the couch laughing, and we made jokes about barking up the wrong tree and knot holes until tears poured down our faces.

  When we finally calmed down, Janis asked, “Is there anyone you’re interested in?”

  The lightheartedness that I hadn’t felt in so long vanished and I swallowed, shaking my head. “That part of my life is over.”

  “Oh, Mona, you could have any man who comes here. Just don’t get too attached.”

  I shook my head again. Despite their line of work, a lot of Jewels had boyfriends or clients they saw on the side who provided them company and a chance for a deeper relationship. Kind of like a glorified Sugar Daddy. Unfortunately, none of them were very healthy relationships.

  As always, I turned the attention back to her. “Anyone catch your eye lately?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have a crush on one of my regulars. He’s dripping in money, and he said he’s gonna ask me to meet him outside the club one day. Maybe that could turn into something.” Her face lit up with a smile.

  “Well, that sounds promising,” I said, even though I couldn’t imagine dating anyone who partook of what was offered at Jewel. Roman’s face popped into my mind, and I quickly pushed it back out.

  After we chatted a little while longer, we said good night and I tucked myself into bed, trying not to think about the problem of Jack.

  I’d drunk a lot of wine, hoping to fall into a dreamless sleep. I dreamed about Nate most nights. Sometimes, the dreams were wonderful, but they were usually the same dream, a memory really, of when we were at the fair and he won me a stuffed monkey from the basketball toss. The one I still wrapped my arms around every night.

  As the wine took me under, I could already almost hear the carnies calling out, tempting passersby with an easy win. The wind carried the scent of corndogs and cotton candy, and I turned to see Nate frown at the gathering crowd.

  When I heard the click of camera phones, I knew we’d been discovered: Nate Galloway and Adara Wilde — hottest couple of the year.

  Nate handed me the stuffed monkey, and in our failed disguises of baseball caps and sunglasses, we waved to the crowd then made a dash for the arena where we were scheduled to perform.

  The sky went from a dazzling blue to threateningly gray. Our tour manager, Don, was nervous about the coming storm. But since the seats were already filling up and the venue hadn’t called it, we went out on stage as usual.

  Our dynamic performing together was magic, as it always was.

  Then the lights became lightning. The drums thunder. Wind whipped my hair into my face.

  Deep inside the dream, I fought to escape the nightmare. I clawed for the surface, but even as I screamed for Nate to help me, his warm blue eyes sparkled with stage lights and love across the space littered with wires and sound equipment. I took in his features, his strong jaw, perfect nose, because I knew I would never see them again.

  But when the wind should have whipped across the venue, the song stretched on until we sang the last verse. As it ended, Nate approached me, handing me the stuffed monkey he’d won again.

  “I want you to get rid of this monkey.” Nate lifted a lock of hair away from my eyes the way he always did and flashed his incredible smile.

  I gasped, holding the stuffed animal close to my chest. “It’s the last thing you ever gave me, Nate, I’d never—”

  “I know,” he interrupted, “but it’s time to let go, begin your life again.”

  My head spun, and I dropped my microphone and it made an amplified thump that vibrated through my chest. “No, Nate!”

  But he was gone… sucked into the sky. Away from life.

  Away from me.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Roman

  After dropping Duk off at his hotel, my driver took me to the ranch in the hills of Montana that had been in our family for years. Previous generations had used it as a summer house, to escape the heat of the city, but I lived here year round. The sky was tinged with pink at the horizon as I let myself in.

  “Good morning, Mr. Wellington.” Ms. White, my house manager, greeted me at the door with her usual note of formality. It hit me suddenly that while I’d known her all my life, I didn’t know how many years she’d been in my family’s employ, or even how old she was. Her face had a timeless quality, but with the old-fashioned style uniform she wore, I judged her to be in her late sixties.

  She’d worked for my family since she was a young woman, and still adhered to the old-school rules of service. In return for her loyalty, her salary was now as high as my managing directors. The family had always expected a lot from her, but she always far exceeded those expectations, making herself available night and day. When I was a kid, I was convinced she was a vampire because I could never catch her sleeping. Even now, no matter what time I got in, she was always there to greet me at the door. It seemed she had a weird kind of telepathy, sensing when I’d arrive.

  I’d often felt bad for her because with no other members of my family in residence anymore, usually she was alone in this huge house. I wondered if she ever missed my mother and father, or the way it had been with us kids growing up. Probably not, she was pretty stuffy. Besides, I employed a few others, daytime people who cleaned or did odd jobs and took care of the property, but she was the only one who lived on the ranch. I was often away on business or working late in the office and she had no family of her own. Apparently, she’d been married when she was younger, but her husband was killed in a car accident, which was what prompted her to take a job in the first place.

  The entrance hall, with its expanse of marble and tall ceiling, seemed especially cold and empty tonight, the house silent aside from the ever-ticking grandfather clock. There wasn’t much to keep a manager busy. No cooking or cleaning up, as I never ate at home. If and when my family were in town or I had a gathering of any kind, I hired a team of people to attend them. Which never failed to rumple her feathers.

  But I never had many visitors. Liliana and Pete were my most frequent guests and sometimes my older sister, but my brothers and parents had lives elsewhere, my parents basing out of New York City. It was a huge home to live in alone, big enough to house them all and yet they rarely came.

  It wasn’t that they didn’t like me, I think they found me boring. Who wouldn’t when they spent half their time going on adventures? Compared to safaris in Africa or deep sea diving the Great Barrier Reef, my little palace with its mountain backdrop was a dead bore.

  “Do you need anything?” Ms. White asked, not even a note of sleepiness in her voice.

  “No, I’m rather tired, so I’ll probably sleep in late. You should do the same.” Fatigue was setting in, and I caught myself in a yawn. “Just make sure I’m not interrupted. Unless the house is on fire of course, or a parade of monkeys and the circus traipses through.” I laughed, still feeling giddy, hoping she’d join me, but her face remained stoic and uninspired.

  “Of course,” she responded mechanically.

  Maybe in addition to her holiday bonus this year, I’d get her a ziplining expedition. Something to rattle those old bones.

  “Thank you, Ms. White.” I turned from her and made my way up the sweeping staircase.

  My parents hadn’t wanted me to buy this house from them and had tried to convince me to settle in one of the other properties they owned that was smaller and more manageable. But those were in New York or Seattle. Even the condo I kept in Butte, the closest nearby city, was surrounded by bustling motion. I liked the seclusion this old house provided. I also had fond memories growing up here. I had a huge family and I wanted there to always be a base for all of us, so any of us seven kids — who were now spread out a
ll over the world — had a place to go where we were the happiest. Plus, it made me feel closer to them.

  Upstairs in my private suite — an apartment with a living room, bedroom, study, weight room, and bathroom — the Butterfly haunted me. The mask, her voice, and all the gracious lines that composed her body combined to make the most beautiful woman I could recollect ever seeing. I couldn’t get the vision of her — flying across the theater, sitting across from me — out of my mind. I felt consumed by her.

  I needed a distraction.

  Playing the piano always soothed my soul when I was feeling irritated, so I sat down in front of it. But the only music that would come to mind was the lilting tune she’d sang as she hung suspended in the air.

  I could still almost hear her voice accompanying the song, that raspy, honeyed tone that had aroused every sensation in me.

  She’d possessed me. I laughed and shook my head. She’d tantalized me into spending a middle-class man’s annual wage to merely talk to her. And now I was dreaming of her like I was the only client in an upscale brothel.

  That’s what I was. A client. In a brothel.

  I slammed my hands down on the keys and shot to my feet, ripping my hands through my hair. I had to find a way to change her perception of me. I needed a way into her world.

  After punishing myself with twice my regular regimen of weight lifting, I fell into bed well after the sun had risen.

  When I woke in the morning, or rather, afternoon, I was disappointed that I hadn’t dreamed of her.

  I’d been hoping that I’d have a nocturnal experience to rival what my imagination had so lustfully delivered in Jewel’s private room. It was a little sad that I needed to dream of a woman rather than have her. And it was odd for me, as I usually never had any trouble getting what I wanted.

  Facing the day, I let the warm water of the shower invigorate my muscles. As I stood under the spray, I mused over the evening before, going over the details in an effort to find a way to see her again. I wanted to fulfill my fantasy and make love to her as I’d promised.