Under the Stars

by Tia Louise

  I turn away from them, going to the corner of the building, then I lean against the brick wall. I’m having a hard time catching my breath, and I recognize this panic. It’s happening too fast, I’m not prepared. Maybe I do need Mark here. Maybe I need him to hold my hand and tell me to breathe.

  Molly grabs our guide’s arm, pushing him toward the entrance to the club. “Josh, can you give us a second?”

  “Sure thing.” He trots to the door, and she storms to where I’m breaking down.

  “What are we doing here?” I whisper half to myself, half to her.

  “What are you doing?” she snaps. “I’m here to confront the asshole who turned me over to his fucking gang of rapists.”

  My insides cringe, and I can’t stop shaking. She’s right. She has every reason to be the sword of vengeance. My situation isn’t as simple.

  Gavin gave me a place to live. He knew my mother. He paid so I could stay on at the Catholic boarding school after she died. He tried to protect me from the monster.

  The night he sent Roland in to save me drifts through my mind…

  “Have you forgotten what he is?” I meet the cold blue eyes of the girl I thought I rescued.

  Maybe I’m the monster… maybe we’re all monsters.

  “Josh said he’s helping girls now. Maybe he’s changed?”

  “A snake can change its skin, but it’s still a snake,” she hisses. “Now get it together.”

  She’s right. Maybe I only want him to have changed so we can walk away before this goes too far. If only…

  I think about everything I said to Roland, why we’re here and what I want. I want answers. We might all be monsters, but we don’t all give little girls away like they’re meaningless commodities.

  Nodding, I push off the wall and do my best to calm my racing nerves. “It’s different for me.”

  “No, it’s not.” She’s walking ahead of me. “He gave you to Guy the same as he did me.”

  Not exactly the same… I went after him. I rolled those dice and lost.

  Joshua is leaning against the glass window when we reappear, and he perks up when he sees us. “Right this way, ladies!”

  Molly skips up to him and takes his arm, and I follow them through the narrow entrance. Her ability to play the part of the innocent amazes me. Once we’re inside, I see what the place lacks in width is made up for in height.

  A balcony overlooks the main floor, and along the back wall a staircase leads down to what I assume is a basement bar. A steady stream of patrons goes up and down the stairs carrying fluorescent red, blue, and yellow-colored drinks.

  The inside of the bar is as brightly painted as the exterior, and rainbow Christmas lights are twined around all the banisters and skinny columns. The music blasting is early-1980s art rock.

  We stand in a small circle on the black and white tiled floor. “They didn’t card us,” Molly shouts in the middle of our group.

  “I’m friends with Jake,” Joshua shouts back.

  “Friends?” Molly looks from the stocky guy at the door to the skinny kid leading us around.

  “Okay, he’s my uncle.”

  “Where’s Gavin?” I ask, but Joshua frowns at me. “I mean…” Shit.

  “Brisbee,” Molly shouts.

  Joshua shakes his head. “Jake said he hasn’t been in tonight. Probably doing something with Kevin. He might not come in after all.”

  “No…” The whisper is out before I can stop it, and Molly cuts her eyes to me.

  “I’m getting a drink,” I say, not really wanting one.

  We’re only supposed to be here two days. Losing tonight is a setback, and I don’t want to extend this errand any longer than we have to. Molly is determined to confront Gavin. I have my own questions, but otherwise, this isn’t the same as the other men. He never touched her. He never touched me. It’s possible he’s trying to make up for the sins of his past…

  Molly appears at my arm. “You’re doing it again.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I lean against the bar. Joshua is talking to a group sitting at one of the high tables.

  “What do you want to do?” I ask. “Call it a night?”

  “Nobody said we have to do this at night. Joshua can get us his address. We can go to his home tomorrow.”

  “Ambush him? Do you think that’s smart?”

  I lift the fluorescent blue drink in front of me and take a sip. It tastes like Malibu rum and pineapple juice. Too sweet.

  “How would you suggest we do it?”

  “You’re actually asking for my input?” That’s a first. She doesn’t answer, only glares at me impatiently. “I think we should call and arrange a meeting at a public place. Some place he can’t do anything.”

  “Where we can’t do anything.”

  “What do you want to do, Molly?”

  Her features are stony, and I know she’s pulling away, going wherever she goes in her mind that allows her to do what she does.

  “I want to do what I always do. Make him pay for what he did to me.”

  I shake my head. “It made sense to make the others pay, but Gavin never touched you.”

  “What do you want from him?”

  My fingers are on the frosty glass, and I trace them up and down the sides. “I want to ask him why. I want him to tell me there’s more to the story I don’t know. I want him to give me a good reason for what he did.”

  Blue eyes flash. “You’re saying there’s a good reason for what he did?”

  “No.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

  “Then how will you ever get what you want?”

  “Maybe I won’t,” I say with a shrug. “See if Joshua knows how to reach him. I’ll make the call.”

  I wait at the bar, watching as she goes to where he stands. If I didn’t know her, she’d seem like any other Seattle kid, pretty, edgy, a touch of darkness. Joshua is clearly smitten. He takes out a pen and writes what she tells him on a napkin.

  I take another sip of the blue beverage, and wince again at the intense sweetness. My eyes are heavy from jet lag, and the drink is making me feel buzzed. I can’t remember the last time I had a cocktail—it was before Jillian was born.

  Molly kisses her new friend on the cheek and walks back to where I’m standing.

  “He gave me his number.” She looks at the bar, her expression blank.

  “Just like that?” I’m a little uncomfortable being acquainted with someone so ready to hand out other people’s personal information. “I’m glad you didn’t tell him our real names.”

  “Oh, I meant Joshua gave me his number—his own number. He’s going to ask if it’s okay for us to call. He’ll let me know one way or the other.”

  “Tomorrow,” I say under my breath. “We’ll either be back here or somewhere else.”

  “And if we’re back here, I’ll be ready.”

  Leaning my head on my hand, the noise, the loud music, the crowd, and the flashing lights are starting to wear me down. “I’m ready to go back to the hotel.”

  Her full pink lips twist into a frown. “It’s barely midnight.”

  “Midnight here is two a.m. in New Orleans, and I just got over Nice.”

  She shrugs. “I’ve never been a night owl. We can call it quits.”

  Outside, the clouds have moved away, and the dark sky is littered with stars. Our hotel is ten blocks away, so we walk. Molly is beside me, but we don’t touch. I remember a time when she hung on my arm constantly.

  “What will you do after this?” I’m not sure what to call what we’ve been doing. “Where will you go?”

  “Maybe I’ll stay here.”

  My eyebrows rise. “Because of Joshua?”

  “No.” Her tone is impatient. “I like the vibe here. It’s mysterious but not sinister.”

  “Even with Gavin?”

  Her eyes flicker to mine. “He might not be staying for long.”

  We walk several blocks in silence, only the noises of our shoes on the paveme
nt and the passing cars surround us.

  “I guess you’ll go to Juneau,” she finally says.

  “I don’t know. I might’ve damaged that bridge beyond repair.”

  “Doubtful. You have his child.”

  Jillian. An ache moves through my stomach, and I don’t feel like arguing anymore. The hotel rises before us, and I follow Molly through the revolving door. A stone table holds an enormous dispenser of iced cucumber water, and she stops to pour a glass.

  She’s taking a sip when her phone lights up, and we both jump. “It’s Joshua,” she hisses, slamming the glass on the counter.

  Turning the face so I can see it, his text reads, Brisbee said he’ll see you. Be at Café Solstice tomorrow noon.

  Again, I feel sick and anxious. Molly is excited. We go to the elevator, and she paces the small box as I watch the numbers count up to five. The door bings, and we get out, going quickly down the short maze to our rooms.

  I stand at my door, waiting as she opens hers across the hall. “Want to meet for breakfast?”

  “I’ll probably sleep in,” she says.

  I have no idea if I’ll sleep at all. “I’ll call you when it’s time to go.”

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby at eleven-thirty.”

  She goes into her room, and the door slams shut. I slide the card and enter mine. A large bed fills most of the space. No sheet, only a thick, white comforter is on top of a covered mattress. My mind swirls as I stand in the doorway trying to plan what could happen tomorrow. I have no idea what to expect from this meeting.

  I’m startled when Molly’s door across the hall slams again, and I dash to mine, only to see her disappearing through the stairwell exit at the end of the hall. She’s practically sprinting, and by the time I get there, she’s gone. I hurry back to my room and go to the window, straining my head to try and see the street below.

  I don’t see anything.

  I don’t know where she went or why.

  Grabbing my phone, I text with trembling fingers. What are you doing?

  Two seconds pass…

  Five…

  No reply.

  I feel sick. Did she hear from Joshua? Is she going to confront Gavin alone? I’m nervous and anxious and worried, which is ridiculous at this late date. She’s demonstrated over and over her ability to survive, to exact her justice and get away with it.

  Still…

  Gavin is a different matter altogether. He’s as much of a survivor as she is, and while her previous victims were clueless and easily duped, Gavin is smart. He knows us, and he’ll know why we’re coming. He’ll know what he has to lose.

  Coming here, waking these demons has never been my plan.

  Since I had Jillian, I’ve realized the choices that had to be made for our lives to turn out as they did, and I want to distance us from these nightmares. I thought getting out of there would set me free, but instead, I’m chained by this never-ending quest.

  It might be freeing her, but Molly’s relentless pursuit hasn’t given me satisfaction. It has left me hollow and alone. I walk through the silent room to the window and look out into the night wondering what she’s doing right now and why she feels like she needs me here.

  Maybe Roland is right, and I’ve done enough. I’ve sacrificed more than I ever imagined for her. I have my own daughter now, my own family. Perhaps it’s time to cut Molly loose and let her follow her dark path without me.

  I prepare for bed with concrete in my stomach.

  Before I shut off the light, I text her one more time. Tell me what’s happening.

  The only response is silence.

  5

  Know your worth then add tax.

  Lara

  “Where did you go last night?” I’m angry when we meet in the lobby.

  After not sleeping all night, I finally heard her door slam at four a.m. Instead of charging across the hall, I fell into a deep sleep as if my body had been waiting hours for that noise.

  “I had to run some errands before today.” Her voice is steady, not the least bit tired.

  She’s wearing a pair of dark, chunky glasses, and when she blinks up at me, I gasp involuntarily. “What did you do to your eyes?”

  They’ve gone from clear blue to an uncanny dark brown. “Contacts. Would you recognize me if you hadn’t seen me in seven years?”

  “Probably not.”

  “I’m not sure how much he ever looked at me anyway,” she adds under her breath.

  Her long hair is still silver and styled in supermodel curls, but she’s dressed in a knee-length form-fitted navy dress, and heels.

  “You look very elegant.” I feel under-dressed in my jeans and short-sleeved shirt with the same khaki trench from last night.

  “I scouted the café where we’re meeting. There’s a balcony above the main floor. I want you to hang back, go up there and wait if you can.”

  My brow furrows. “What will you do?”

  Her chin lifts, and I’m impressed by how professional she is. “I thought about what you said, and I decided I’m going to give him a test. I’ll let you know if he passes.”

  “Will you at least tell me what the test will look like?”

  “If it goes as I expect, it’ll look like nothing more than a business lunch.” A small leather clutch hangs from her slim shoulder by a thin strap. It’s brown to match her shoes. “If it doesn’t, I’ll be out of there in less than ten minutes, and we’ll be finished here.”

  I stop walking and catch her arm. “Finished?”

  Solemn eyes meet mine. “If he answers correctly, I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.”

  We resume our walk, but the feelings warring in my chest and stomach range from relief to resentment, satisfaction to lack of fulfillment. I still want answers. I still want to know why… At the same time, if she’s willing to walk, perhaps it’s better to do as Roland says and let sleeping devils lie.

  “This is all because of what I said?”

  She shrugs. “If you’re right, and he walked away from that place and is now doing good, I won’t hold him to not caring what happened to me. I was worthless to him.”

  “You weren’t worthless to me.”

  A sad smile crosses her lips. “In the end it didn’t matter.”

  We’re at the café, and I hesitate on the front steps. She grips my forearm.

  “Go around the corner and use the alley entrance. Stay out of sight. If he sees you, he’ll recognize you immediately, and we’ll lose our advantage.”

  I take a step back, away from the front window. “I’ll wait for you upstairs.”

  She doesn’t acknowledge my words. She enters the café, and I jog around to the alley.

  From the balcony above, I watch as Molly joins Gavin at a dark wood table. He’s still tall and imposing, but he’s lost weight. His hair is shorter and seems redder than before. He has a beard. She sits directly across from him, and they proceed to enjoy a full lunch, complete with a bottle of wine.

  Hidden in the balcony above, I order a latte and drink it slowly, allowing the perfectly brewed beverage to warm my insides as I wait for any signs of hunger. My stomach has been in knots for two days, and their prolonged reunion is not a good sign, based on what Molly said.

  She passes what looks like a business card across the table to him. He takes it and reads a moment. They resume chatting, faces mostly serious, occasionally smiling, and when my waiter returns again, I order a cup of tomato basil soup and a half-sized quinoa three-bean salad. I take two bites and push it away unfinished.

  Finally, after more than an hour, they stand. Molly’s smile is strictly business, and Gavin escorts her to the door. I stay in the balcony area above watching as he pulls out his phone and checks it. Then he nods, and they part, each walking in opposite directions.

  The waiter returns, and I order another small latte. Dread moves through my stomach as I wait until finally Molly appears at the top of the balcony. Her expression is muted, and she walks straig
ht to the table and sits.

  “Well?” My voice is barely above a whisper.

  “Nothing has changed.” A note of bitterness is in her tone.

  “What does that mean?”

  “He takes in runaways, and sells the prettiest ones to the highest bidder. He’s even worse than before. I’ll meet him tonight at Montage to take pictures and set up my first encounter. He calls them experiences.”

  “What does that mean? Runaways…” A painful knot swells in my throat. “How old are they?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then we can’t be sure—“

  “Are you seriously giving him the benefit of the doubt?” Her voice is a razor.

  “No.” Guilt is a lead weight in my stomach.

  I have to know what might have happened if we’d left… Would more underage girls have been hurt? Would it have been my fault? Again?

  “Will you let me talk to him first?” My voice is quiet.

  “What’s left to say?”

  I don’t know… My hands surround the small cup in front of me, and I try to think. “Did he recognize you?”

  “If he did, it would’ve been a much shorter lunch.”

  Nodding, I take a sip of cold coffee, and it turns my stomach. I pull out my wallet and leave a twenty and a ten on the table.

  “I’m going with you tonight.” I have to know the truth.

  * * *

  Mark

  Our flight to Seattle lasts six hours.

  For six hours, the only thing keeping me sane is the warm body of my little daughter against my chest. Roland has bottles and diapers, and if she cries, he picks one of the two options to soothe her.

  “How do you know all this?” I watch as he changes her diaper on the tray table like an expert.

  “It’s not rocket science,” he says. “She’s a small human. She gets hungry, you feed her. She soils her pants, you change them. She cries, you hold her. It’s actually pretty basic human behaviors.”

  “I never had any siblings.”

  He hands my now-happy daughter to me. “Neither did I, but I have a brain.”

  “Nice,” I grumble, but having spent the last eight hours with him, my confidence is growing in my own ability to figure out what’s happening with Jilly and what to do about it.