Fractures in Ink

by Helena Hunting

  About a half-hour after I started my shift, Xander appeared at the bar. He then spent the entire night watching the girls, hyper vigilant. The whole thing was unnerving. At the end of my shift, I headed to the changing room, traded my sluttire for street clothes, and counted my money and receipts, separating out the tips.

  It had been a good night tip-wise. I’d had an extra table, so that meant more money. Taking a deep breath, I slung my bag over my shoulder, collected my receipts, and headed for Xander’s office.

  Grant was stationed outside the door. He gave me a nod and let me into the waiting room. I paced the small space and moved away from the camera that tracked this room. I quickly pulled my phone out of my purse, set it up to record, and shoved it into my bra before I resumed my pacing.

  One of the new girls whose name I hadn’t learned came out of Xander’s office soon after. Her lips were puffy and her eyes red. She shifted her gaze to the floor as she passed, telling me everything I needed to know about what had gone down in there. At least Xander’s needs had already been taken care of. I wondered if he’d turned off the security feed to his office, or let it run so he could go back and watch himself degrade the girls after the fact. The idea made me shudder.

  I knocked and waited until I was given the okay to go in.

  Xander was buttoning his suit jacket when I entered, a tic in his jaw the only marker of emotion. “Close the door, please, Sarah.”

  I did as he asked, and then set my receipts and cash in front of him. I even took a seat in the chair across from his desk to avoid our usual standoff. Xander said nothing as he methodically counted the bills and tallied the figures.

  “You had another good night,” he said when he’d finished, fanning out the bills before he put them into an envelope with the receipts. “I’m going to need you to come in tomorrow.”

  “I didn’t think I was scheduled.” The extra shift and tips would be good, but I was already exhausted and had been looking forward to a day to focus on my internship, then get some rest.

  “You weren’t. We’re short staffed, so you’ll have to pick up the shift.”

  “Is this because of Dee?” I baited him, hoping he wouldn’t see through it.

  His hard eyes locked on me. “What about Dee?”

  I shrugged and tried to contain my heavy swallow. “She’s not here tonight, and this is one of the days she usually works.”

  He watched me for a few long seconds. “She has a couple of days off. And since you know so much, you’ll be picking up the party she was supposed to host tomorrow night.”

  “Party?” A trickle of sweat worked its way down my spine.

  “Yes.” He tented his fingers under his chin. Now it felt like he was baiting me.

  “What kind of party is it?”

  “An expensive one. They’ve asked for you specifically since Dee won’t be available. You can consider this the favor you owe me.”

  My stomach turned. “What will I have to do?”

  His smile was malevolent. “Entertain them, Sarah.”

  “Entertain them how?”

  “Do I need to get you an instruction manual? Would you like a detailed explanation of what’s expected of you?”

  I expelled a deep breath. “I can’t—”

  Xander pushed out of his chair and rounded his desk. He grabbed the arms of my chair and shoved it back to make room for himself. I pressed my knees tight together so he couldn’t edge his way between them. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if he found the phone on me. He leaned in until his face was an inch from mine. His jaw was tight, the rage I’d seen him throw at other people suddenly directed at me.

  “You can and you will, Sarah, because you owe me.”

  “There has to be something else. I’ve paid you back the money. What if I, I—” I scrambled for an alternative. “—paid the interest too? What would that be? A few hundred dollars more? I could give that to you now.”

  “A few hundred?” His laugh was humorless. “What the fuck do you think this is, a goddamn bank? I’ve got plenty of money. That’s why your interest is a favor. That’s what we agreed to, and that’s what you’re going to do. Tomorrow night you will take your clothes off, and you will do whatever those men decide they want you to. Do you understand?”

  “But I didn’t—”

  “This is what you owe me, Sarah. I was there when you needed me. Now it’s your turn.”

  “I, I, I—”

  The words wouldn’t come. Dee had been sitting in this exact same chair, in the exact same position the last time I saw her. But it hadn’t been Xander standing over her. It had been Grant kneeling in front of her, consoling her because something had gone terribly wrong.

  I felt the hardness within me return, along with my voice. “I know what happened last night with Dee.”

  Xander’s smile was razorblade malice. “Oh you do, do you?”

  “I know the video feed was tampered with, and those men tried to hurt her. It’s your job to keep her safe.”

  “Are you trying to blackmail me? If so, it’s a pretty weak attempt. I think you’re forgetting that you have an awful lot to lose. I have an incredible amount of footage to choose from when it comes to you in skimpy clothes, being manhandled by patrons with a smile on your face. In fact, it looks to me like you rather enjoy your job here.” He ran a single finger down the side of my neck. “I guess it doesn’t always pay to be a good actress, does it?”

  I turned my head away from his face and the unwanted contact. The tears I’d been fighting finally broke free, sliding down my cheeks.

  Xander caught one with a fingertip. “Look at you. Where’s the fierceness now?”

  A knock on the door made me jump, and Xander’s jaw clicked with tension. “Not now,” he barked.

  The door opened, and Xander straightened. Grant glanced from me in the chair to Xander, that hard, haunted look returning. I wiped the back of my hand under my eyes to clear away the tears and ducked behind my hair to avoid looking at him.

  “We’ve got an issue to deal with,” he said.

  “Well, then go deal with it.”

  Grant sucked his teeth. “It’s not my issue. Girls have some questions you need to answer if you want things calm around here.”

  Xander exhaled a hard breath, knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists. “I’ll be right out.”

  Grant just stood there, and Xander made no move to leave the office.

  “Close the fucking door! I said I’d be right out. Whatever it is it can wait two goddamn minutes.”

  Grant didn’t bother to acknowledge Xander again; instead he looked at me. “You okay, Sarah?”

  “She’s fine. Now get the fuck out of my office, and get back to your post.”

  Grant ignored the directive. “Sarah?”

  “I’m fine,” I croaked.

  “Two minutes, boss.” Grant tapped his watch and pulled the door closed. It sounded more like a threat than a warning.

  I pushed up out of the chair and tried to get around Xander to avoid being trapped again, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me close.

  “There is only one option that will keep you safe.” His voice was low, and shaking with rage, maybe because of the interruption, or maybe because Grant had very clearly disobeyed him. Xander didn’t appreciate insolence. “Do you want to know what it is?”

  I made a sound—more of a whimper than a confirmation.

  “You want to avoid the party tomorrow night?” He was so close, his grip on my arm far too tight to allow for movement.

  “Yes.” I shifted my gaze to his, locking it there as satisfaction crept into his smile.

  “Then you have to make a trade. That’s how this works, Sarah.”

  “What kind of trade?” I shook now, fear having won out over anger.

  “An hour with a roomful of strangers or an hour with me. It’s your choice, but I will tell you, I’m the better deal. No one in that room is going to care if you scream, or cry, or come,
whereas I’ll guarantee that you do all three.”

  I shuddered as he stroked my cheek again, his gentle touch a macabre counterpart to the new, even more horrifying deal he offered.

  “You don’t have to answer now. You sleep on it, take some time to decide.” He smiled again.

  The hard rap on the door made him let go of my arm. I stumbled away and yanked on the handle, fumbling before I finally managed to make it turn. Grant stepped back as I rushed out of Xander’s office, about to throw up.

  Clutching my bag, I rushed through the dressing room, the girls’ chatter a fuzzy hum, their faces a blur through my tears.

  I waved at Max as I headed for my car. As soon as I was inside, I slammed down all the locks and shoved the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered instead of revving to life. I tried not to panic. My car had just been fixed. It had to start. I took a deep breath and tried again. This time the engine turned over.

  With shaking hands I pulled my phone out of my bra and stopped recording. Then I hit play, praying my shirt hadn’t muffled it to the point of being unintelligible. I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop the sob when I heard Xander’s voice clearly outlining my choices. Then I cranked the stereo and dropped my face into my palms, letting the sob I’d been holding back finally burst free.

  I had no idea how I’d use this, but I knew I had to. Otherwise I’d never escape, never get free. Maybe it was already too late for me, but I could still bring Xander down. This was my fault. I should’ve realized a job like this would put my scholarship at risk.

  Now I was in so deep, I had no idea how I was going to get out. It was one thing to tell Chris about the car and the debt I’d owed Xander, but this favor was something else. I was ashamed to have gotten myself into this situation, and I couldn’t bear to see that shame echoed in Chris. And after seeing what had gone down with Dee and Trixie, I knew if I went through with it, the emotional repercussions would far outlast the physical.

  I must’ve sat there a long time, because a knock on my window startled me. It was Grant. I turned down the music and swiped my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt while he tried to open my door without success. Shoving my phone into my purse, I rolled my window down a few inches.

  He took one look at my tear-streaked face and gritted his teeth. “Jesus. This place is about to implode. You wanna tell me what the hell was going on back there?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, Xander just laid into me about you knowing shit you shouldn’t, so maybe you wanna come clean with someone.”

  I suddenly found the choice of words ironic. There was no coming clean after this. “I owe Xander a favor, and he’s decided to collect.”

  “For what?”

  “Does it even matter?”

  “What kind of favor are you into him for? It’s not drugs, is it?” He glanced down at my arms.

  “He loaned me money to have my car fixed. The favor is the interest.”

  Grant tapped the hood of the car in agitation. “So he wants you on the stage?”

  I shook my head. “He wants me to work a party.”

  “For getting your car fixed?” He shook his head. “This isn’t right. He’s—look, I’m going to help you out on this, but I need you to do something for me.”

  “I don’t want to owe anyone any more favors,” I snapped.

  “Yeah. I don’t need that kind of favor, Sarah. You and Dee, you talk, yeah?”

  “Sometimes. I mean, I talk to her more than the other girls.”

  “I see your number on her phone sometimes. I know you’ve been texting her.”

  At my confused expression he continued, “I’m keeping an eye on her right now, but she hasn’t answered my messages for the last hour, and we’ve been checking in regularly. I can’t get out of here for a while. If I give you directions, will you check on her for me?”

  “You’re in Xander’s pocket all the time. How do I know this isn’t some kind of trap?”

  He regarded me carefully. “I guess you don’t. But I can tell you that things aren’t always the way they look.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  Grant pulled his phone out and did some clicking before he passed me the device. A picture of Dee reclined on a pale gray leather couch was displayed on the small screen.

  “Scroll to the right,” he said softly.

  So I did. After a few photos it wasn’t just Dee anymore. It was Dee with Grant—selfie after selfie chronicling the progression of their relationship. The smile she wore with him was one I hadn’t ever seen in the club.

  I stopped at a picture of him kissing her on the cheek. “How long?”

  “Long enough that we got careless.”

  “Does Xander know?”

  “He does now.” His expression turned grim.

  “That party—”

  “—was a message. Will you check on her for me?”

  I had so many questions that couldn’t be answered. “I can do that. Of course.”

  “Can you stay until I get there?”

  “Definitely.”

  While I put the directions in my phone, Grant passed over a key. If what he was saying was true, Xander had set Dee up. Had he been the one to cut the feed? And for what? To make a point? I didn’t even really understand who Grant was to him, other than head of security.

  “Call me as soon as you get to her.”

  “I will.”

  “And I’m going to help you find a way outta this mess.”

  “Thanks.” I wasn’t sure how he thought he was going to fix this for me, but anything I could do to secure his help was worth it. Especially with Dee being involved.

  I followed the GPS north, away from The Sanctuary and into the Loop. It took a while for me to find the correct building and secure legal street parking. Dee lived right downtown, as if she were a cog in the corporate machine, not their entertainment.

  I made my way up to her floor and knocked at her apartment, but I didn’t expect Dee to open the door for me, since Grant said he’d told her not to go anywhere or answer for anyone. After a moment I used the key he’d given me to get in and closed the door behind me, locking it again.

  Lined up on the mat to the right were Dee’s heels and a pair of men’s running shoes, which I imagined were Grant’s. A baseball cap and a jacket hung next to her hoodie. Whatever they had was real.

  I crossed through the open kitchen to the living room. The TV was on silent, a movie trailer looping. A pale gray blanket had been discarded on the equally pale gray couch—the one in the pictures Grant had shown me, further proof of his presence in her life. A half-empty glass sat on the end table, but it was the tipped-over pill bottles, the powdery residue, the rolled up twenty, and the square of mirror that shot panic through my veins. Dee’s phone was there, and the screen flashed with a text from Grant. It was one of ten.

  “Dee?” I crossed over to the table and picked up the bottles: oxycodone, some kind of morphine, prescription-strength Tylenol, and anti-anxiety meds, all prescribed to different people.

  Any one of these could mess a person up, but all together, they could be lethal. I pulled my phone out of my purse and snapped a few pictures of the table. Grant seemed like one of the good guys, but I had no real way of knowing he wasn’t as crooked and heartless as Xander, so I wasn’t taking any chances with more blackmail opportunities. I wanted the leverage I’d been missing all these months.

  My phone rang, startling me. It was Grant. I swallowed my guilt and answered the call.

  “Are you in? Is Dee okay?” he barked.

  “I haven’t found her yet.”

  “What’d you mean you haven’t found her?”

  “I just got here. She’s not answering when I call for her. Her phone is in the living room, though; she can’t be far. Look, Grant, there are a lot of pill bottles here, and it looks like she’s been snorting whatever she’s taking.”

  “Fuck. Fuck. What kind of pills? Never mind—check the bathroom.
She likes baths. It’s in the master bedroom, through the living room, second door on the right.”

  “I’m going now.” I made my way through the living room and found the second door on the right open. I went inside, calling Dee’s name again. The king-size bed was unmade. “I can hear the water running. You’re right—she must’ve decided to take a bath.”

  I called her name again, louder this time, and knocked on the bathroom door, which was also ajar. My knocking caused it to open a little more. What I found wasn’t Dee in the bath, though. The tub had overflowed and water now cascaded over the edge, inching it’s way closer to where I stood. But that wasn’t what made me scream.

  In that instant, I understood what it meant to be marked by someone else’s torment in an irrevocable way. I would never forget, for as long as I lived, how Dee looked, unconscious and naked, lying beside the tub. It wasn’t her nakedness that would stay with me, but the gray pallor of her usually tanned skin, marred by the words written in black marker covering her body. Under the scrawl bloomed countless bruises. Block letters spelled out her trauma: whore, slut, bitch repeated over and over, across her stomach, her arms, her legs.

  “Sarah? Sarah? Fucking answer me. What the hell is going on?”

  “I think she OD’d.” I rushed to the tub and turned off the faucet, then dropped to the floor beside her, the water soaking through my jeans. It was so cold. Her lips were blue.

  Grant’s voice was terrifyingly even. “Does she have a pulse?”

  I took a deep breath, trying not to let my absolute horror take over. “I’m checking.”

  I felt sick as I flipped to camera mode, recording the scene in front of me. In my head I apologized to Dee for wanting more leverage to save myself, if I needed it. Because I wouldn’t be this. I put my fingers at the side of her throat. There were bruises there too, like someone had tried to strangle her. I made sure to get close-ups of those; someone needed to be responsible for what had happened to her.

  It was hard to stay calm, seeing what Xander had allowed to happen to her the other night. I kept searching for a pulse, but there wasn’t anything normal—just an occasional flutter under cool skin. “I’m not getting anything, Grant.”