Lee and Klaus appeared a moment later, entering through that same secret door. Both of them looked exhausted, worn down, and wrecked.
“You have to be kind to her,” Mason called out to them. “Promise me.”
Lee opened his mouth, his face flushing red with anger but Klaus spoke over him. “Don’t ever tell us what to do,” he said. “Not after what you’ve done.”
And then they were gone, leaving me alone with Warner.
Slowly, I got to my feet. My entire body ached, and I was covered in blood. Everything smelled like pennies and sweat, and I needed, more than anything, to take a shower and wash this night off me.
I didn’t look at Warner as I took a step toward the door, but he put his arm across the threshold to stop me. “Don’t even think of breathing a word about this to anyone,” he said.
Too exhausted to argue, I swayed a little and had to brace myself on the doorframe. “I won’t.”
“This is your warning.” Lee appeared again and his glare was so heated, Warner squeaked. “I don’t want to hear it,” he said to the man before he looked at me. In his hand, he had a pair of slippers and he knelt at my feet. Gently, he lifted one foot and then another, to slide them on. “Thank you, Jayne. I’m so sorry.”
Inner circle. I wasn’t the one on the outside, Warner was.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said as he stood. He pushed my hair behind my ear and fastened the blanket around my shoulders a bit more securely.
“Lee?” Klaus called. He stopped just outside the door and frowned. “I’m sorry, I need you.”
“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Warner hissed, and Lee grabbed him, tugging him down the steps.
“Achtung, Warner,” Klaus said quietly. Still frowning, he watched the other man trail down the stairs before he gave his attention back to us. “I need you to come with me right now, Lee. I’m sorry, little teacher. Can you make it on your own?”
Stepping away from Lee, I nodded and held a little tighter to the blanket. “I can.”
“We’ll take care of this as fast as we can.” Klaus stepped aside, and I walked through the door. We went together down the flight of steps, but then, with a soft squeeze on my shoulder, they left me. All the way to my room, I didn’t see another soul.
My room was open, which was strange, but nothing seemed to be disturbed, and the door between my room and Sophie’s was still closed and locked.
Shutting my door behind me, I let out a breath.
Everything was a mess. My head. My heart.
I’d gotten myself into something, now. My heart felt inextricably linked to those men who’d begged my help and then disappeared.
I walked like an old woman to the shower, going through the motions with deliberate carefulness. It was as if I kept control over everything, from the temperature of the water to how I turned the knob, I wouldn’t fly apart.
It wasn’t until I was under the hot water, watching it turn pink around my feet, that I let myself fall apart.
Knees weak, I collapsed into the tub. How was I going to do this? I didn’t want to quit, I didn’t want to leave them, but they would realize they’d made a mistake. What they thought was affection was gratitude, and then they’d be embarrassed.
21
Jayne
Sophie and Mrs. Foster were gone when I opened the door between our rooms, but there was a note on my pillow.
Come downstairs when you’re able. We’re waiting for you. —Ten.
Waiting for me to what? Tell me they’d acted rashly? That they realized their behavior made me think things that couldn’t possibly be true?
Voices filtered in from outside, and I went to the window.
The guys were in the courtyard with Sophie. The influencers from yesterday stood around, taking pictures of them as played. Lee and Sophie took turns on a skateboard, while the other three looked on.
They were joined by other guests soon, and I lost sight of them amongst the colorful clothing and wide-brimmed, floppy hats.
I was glad she was with them. Glad they were giving her a bit of attention to remind her they were her dads as well as rock stars.
My stomach was in knots, but I went downstairs, sidling past the guests who were taking selfies in front of the band’s gold albums and awards, and into the kitchen.
Thank God there was coffee. I poured a huge cup and took a sip before it could cool.
“There you are!” Mrs. Foster reached for a mug and poured herself a cup. “Sleep well?”
I stared at her for a moment. Was she serious? Did she not remember…?
She moved to the window to stare outside. So she was deliberately not bringing it up. Okay. I could go along with that.
“Fine,” I said. “Do I need to get Sophie?”
“They’ll bring her in a minute. They’re going to do a photo shoot and then start recording. Warner has this whole plan. The influencers are posting teasers on their social media sites. Already they have a hashtag. Do you know what a hashtag is?”
“I do,” I replied, and took another sip. I relished the burn down my throat.
“Hashtag all mine, or something,” she said. “It’s the name of Blanca’s new album, and the song they’re collaborating on.”
The door to outside opened and Sophie ran inside, the guys close behind her. “Just the girl we needed,” Tennyson joked. “We’re dropping the gremlin off to you while we go get beautiful.”
You’re already beautiful. The thought crossed my mind as I stared at them. It must have been chilly out there, because their cheeks were red and eyes bright. Diego had wrapped a scarf around his neck. My scarf, I realized. He smiled at me, and automatically, I smiled back.
“Are you okay?” he mouthed, and I nodded. Yes, I was exhausted, but his question made me giddy. I was okay.
Klaus wore a wool sweater and had on fingerless gloves, while Lee was underdressed but seemed unbothered by the cold.
Tennyson…
Tennyson looked like he’d stepped off the pages of a magazine.
“What more do you have to do?” I asked, which wasn’t as bad as saying my first thought out loud, but from the look on Warner, who had stepped through the door behind them, uncalled for.
“It’s true,” Tennyson said. “We are remarkably good looking, but even paragons such as ourselves need a little powder on the nose.”
“I can help,” Sophie said, bouncing on her toes. “I helped Jayne get ready last night. Wasn’t she beautiful?”
“Yes,” Klaus answered in a low voice. I whipped my gaze toward him, expecting to see a shit-eating grin on his face, but his lips were pressed together.
“Great,” Warner said. “You did great, Sophie. Can we stop mooning over the help and go?”
They filed by me, and one of them, I didn’t see who, touched my hand before they disappeared outside. Connection. And just like that, I could breathe again.
“So,” Mrs. Foster said. “I have a lot to do.”
I got the hint. “Let’s go Sophie.”
Together, we went upstairs. This morning, the little girl was quiet. The lesson plans I’d made kept us busy and distracted. Lunch was brought up to us, and we worked right through it. Finally, as the sun began to lower, I reached past Soph and shut her book. “I think we can take a break.”
She sighed and leaned back. “Okay.” Her gaze traveled along the bookshelves lining the classroom. Walking toward them, she stared up at the books. “I’m not a very good reader.”
Her reading was one of her more challenging subjects, but English wasn’t her first language. And she hadn’t started at the same times most kids do. So given that she spoke two languages fluently, some trouble decoding was to be expected. “What book do you want to read?” I asked, moving to stand next to her. “I thought you like the chocolate touch one.”
“I do,” she replied. She pointed to the top shelf and a gold embossed spine. “I want to read that one.” Standing on my tiptoes, I reached for it and pulled it down.
And almost dropped it.
“American Or…” she began, and then tried again. “Orni…” She looked at me for help.
“Ornithology,” I whispered, training my fingers over the cover. The image hit me. Me, holding this book on my lap, hidden behind a curtain to escape my cousins. Gregory, my cousin, whipping back the curtain, pulling the book from my hand and then slapping me across the face with it.
“I want to read it,” Sophie said.
My hands shook as I handed it to her. “This is a good choice,” I said, but had to clear my throat before I continued. “It has lots of pictures, too.” Nausea rolled through my body, and I swallowed hard. “Here. Sit next to me.”
“Why are you shaking?” she asked.
“I’m just hungry,” I lied.
She pulled the book onto her lap and began to flip through the pages. This was an antique reproduction, but the one I’d had, or my aunt had had, was an original. She was angrier that my blood stained the pages and spine than that her son tore it apart in a rage when I refused to apologize to him.
Mrs. Foster brought our dinners upstairs for us, but neither Soph nor I said much. It felt like both of us were in our heads, and as soon as it was dark enough to be called night, she told me she was tired and wanted to go to sleep.
“I’ll leave the door open,” I said.
“Will you stay until I fall asleep?” she asked.
I nodded and set myself up in the chair next to her bed. For a long while, she stared at the ceiling. I wondered what was going through her mind. Knowing what I did, I held out little hope her memories were painless. But still, I hoped they were nothing like my own.
Eventually, the little girl turned on her side and fell asleep, but I waited there a little while, a sentinel against bad dreams.
A soft knock at the door roused me, and I slid from the chair. Mrs. Foster was at the door, her face serious. “You have a phone call,” she said. “From California.”
It was like my memories had conjured my past and made it real.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and turned it on. No one ever called me, but there it was. A series of phone calls, all with US country and California area codes.
“Thank you,” I said to the woman.
“Jayne.” She touched my arm. “Are you all right?”
My throat felt thick, so I nodded and went back into Sophie’s room, closing and locking the door behind me. I walked through the door connecting our room, closing it a little, just enough that my voice would be muffled, but wide enough I could hear if she needed me.
And then I connected the call.
“Jayne?” My cousin’s voice so similar to her mother’s it made me suck in a breath. “Jayne is that you?”
“It’s me,” I replied. “Georgie?”
“Yeah,” she replied. “Look. You need to come home.”
That word. The house where I’d spent my early years materialized in my mind. Palatial grounds. Marble columns. Perfect white furniture. Screams. Anger. Pain.
“I’m working. I can’t leave.” I never ever wanted to return there.
“Jayne, you’re still so fucking selfish. She said you wouldn’t come. I don’t even know why she wants to see you. You’re not even related to her.”
She had to be talking about my aunt. But… “Why does she want to see me?” I asked.
“She’s dying,” Georgie said. “You probably heard about Greg?”
I hadn’t. “No.”
“It’s all over the news. It wouldn’t have hurt you to check in with us. We’re humiliated. He lost all our money. All Daddy’s money, and then he went and killed himself and just made a mess everywhere. Mom had a stroke, and she’s not getting better. But she wants to see you. ‘Jayne.’ ‘Jayne.’ She asks for you every day.” A sigh blasted over the line as I struggled to process what my cousin had related. Gregory, my tormentor, was dead. And his mother, the woman who’d put me on a path to only experience more pain and torment, was dying. And she wanted to see me.
She’s dying. By all rights, I shouldn’t care. I didn’t owe the woman anything. She’d never even given me the most cursory of care. But something welled inside me, a loyalty or responsibility that I couldn’t explain away. “I’ll have to talk to my employers,” I said. “I don’t know if I can leave. I have responsibilities.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand. How important could you be?” Georgie asked. Now that she’d gotten what she wanted from me, she was ready to get off the phone. I imagined her heels clicking against the marble floors as she crossed the living room to the patio where she’d sit by the pool. And then she hung up.
No goodbye. No thank you.
I sat cross-legged on my floor and reached forward to push the door open a little. Across the room, I could make out the little hump of Sophie’s form in bed. She needed me. How could I leave her?
I leaned my back against the doorframe, stretching in my feet in front of me until they touched the other side of the frame. A tear dripped down my face, and I quickly swiped it away. I could have spent the rest of my life happy to never to set foot in California again.
Let alone my aunt’s house.
I reached up, digging my fingers through my hair to touch the place on my scalp that had needed thirteen stitches to close. Then I touched my knees, and turned to examine my palms. There were no scars left on my hands, but I knew beneath my pants I’d find matching scars on both knees from the time Gregory had pushed me into a glass table. It had shattered, slicing my knees to the bone and embedding pieces of glass in my hands.
I couldn’t wear earrings because he’d ripped them out of my newly pierced ear. The lobe had healed, but one side was lower than the other.
My body was a map work of his anger.
But my head. My mind.
That was all my aunt’s doing.
My throat ached in remembered pain from screaming in that dark closet where she’d lock me. I could have been bleeding, bruised, starving, but she’d shut that door and be on her way. No one helped me. A house full of people, and I’d hear them walk by the door.
None of my cries, my pleading, made them cross her.
And now she wanted to see me.
I swallowed hard and wiped my face again. And I was going to go. I knew I was.
I set my phone in my lap and began to look up flights. This was going to put a big dent in my savings. Flying across the Atlantic and the continental United States at the last minute wasn’t cheap. And having an open ticket with no firm return date added an extra thousand to anything I found.
“Jayne?” Diego’s voice came to me through the door along with a soft knock.
I wiped my face and went to the door, opening it.
“Can I come in?”
I opened it a little wider, making room for him. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“Are you?” he asked, surprising me. “Mrs. Foster said you got a call from California.”
Oh. I really hadn’t thought his question was more than politeness. But he seemed serious. He took my hands and led me to the bed, waiting until I sat before he settled himself next to me. “What happened?”
“My aunt is dying,” I said. “She wants to see me.”
“I thought you didn’t have any family.” He drew his dark eyebrows together as he stared at me. His thumbs grazed the back of my hands as he took them in his. “I don’t understand.”
“We’re not close,” I said, keeping my eyes on his hands. His skin was darker than mine, contrasting against my paleness. His fingertips were rough and calloused from playing the guitar, and I suddenly wished I could have heard him play. “My parents died and my uncle, my mom’s brother, adopted me. But he died unexpectedly and my aunt was left alone with her children and a girl she didn’t want.”
“Is that how you ended up at—” He was talking about the school where I was sent, and where I almost died.
“Yes,” I said. “It was a place a lot of kids were sent when thei
r families wanted to forget about them.”
Diego dropped my hands and stood. He reminded me of Lee, the way he raked his hands through his hair. When he approached me again, his accent was a little thicker and his voice beseeching. “So why are you going?” he asked, and then smiled when I jerked back. “You think I can’t read you, Jayne, but your intentions are clear. Your face is an open book. You want leave to visit your aunt. Well, I’m sorry, but you can’t have it. We need you.”
I understood, but… this was her dying wish. And I’d done a lot of work to move past what I’d suffered. At least that was what I told myself. If I were going to keep telling myself that, I’d have to prove it.
“I can call the agency about a substitute. I won’t leave until there’s someone suitable.”
The door to my room opened and Tennyson came inside. “Is she okay?” he asked Diego.
“She wants to leave,” he replied.
“What?” Tennyson dropped his hands to his sides and started for me. “No! You can’t.”
“Her aunt is dying,” Diego explained. “The aunt that abandoned her and let her almost die in that warehouse for orphans, but for some reason, she wants to fulfill the old bat’s wishes.”
I wanted to laugh because he’d summed it all up so neatly, but from the look on his friend’s face, to do so would be a mistake. “I told Diego I wouldn’t leave until the agency sent a substitute. And I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Tennyson shook his head, his face a storm cloud. Then, suddenly he stopped and smiled. The dichotomy was so abrupt, I was a little worried he’d just given himself permission to tie me up and keep me here. “Sophie’s grandparents have been asking for a visit,” he said.
Diego, whose arms had been crossed and who had been staring at me angrily, whipped his head toward Tennyson. “You’re right.”
“We could…”
There was a quick, loud rap on my door and then Lee and Klaus appeared. I sighed. Apparently I was going to have to go over everything, and hash out all my arguments, again.
“The call?” Klaus asked. “What was it?”
Just Jayne Page 11