As the bag fell, the top opened.
A slight tilt of my neck showed me what was inside.
If there was anything in me, I would have thrown up. But I was empty. Not a single drip of water, except for tears, had passed through my mouth in what felt like days.
“Take it out.”
Tremors shook my hands; my fingers didn’t want to unclench.
But I knew better than to defy him.
I reached inside and pulled out a white dress, the straps thick, a size that would definitely fit me.
The smile had returned to his lips, the wrinkles in his cheeks as high as his eyes. “This is the last dress you’ll ever put on.”
Noises would only get me in trouble, but I was filled with them.
Cries.
Screams.
I slapped my hand over my mouth, so none would escape.
“You’re learning.” He eyed my hand. “That makes Ronald very happy.”
He took a few steps back and sat on the floor. He was so tall and uncoordinated, and he came down like a tree, his height making him look so awkward on the ground.
“Get changed.” He folded his legs, rubbing his hands together like they were cold. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
Every question I’d had suddenly slapped across my face.
Why I was here.
What he was going to do with me.
What my life was going to be like in this basement.
The truth was like a bullet that missed my heart, hitting a spot that made me suffer, feel every bit of the agony and pain.
Something from inside the bag was pulling at my attention.
I leaned forward again to get a better look.
Two elastics.
For my hair.
“I’m ready to play, Kerry.”
Twenty-Seven
Before
Ashe
“You’re making it extremely difficult to study,” Pearl said as she gazed at me over the top of her textbook.
Since we had known we wouldn’t get anything done at my apartment, we’d agreed to meet at the library. A place where we could spend time together and still concentrate on our work, but where I couldn’t lay her across my kitchen table and strip off her clothes.
Except from the moment she had walked in, wearing jeans that hugged her gorgeous legs and a tight white tank that showed the tops of her perfect tits, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted to do to her.
“Yeah? Well, I’ve read the same paragraph six times,” I admitted.
She chewed the end of her pencil. “You have an exam tomorrow that’s going to be painfully difficult if you don’t know the material.”
“So is sitting this far away from you.”
She laid the book flat and reached across the space between us, the warmth of her hand landing on mine. “Is this better?”
“No.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re insatiable.”
“And you love that about me.”
Her smile reached her blue eyes, a blush coming through her cheeks as she glanced down to start reading again. I tried doing the same, but the paragraph was a blur, the words not sinking in, the thought of spending one more second with Organic Chemistry fucking torturous.
It wasn’t as though it had been days since I’d seen her. Dylan and I, along with a few friends, had gone to the bar while she was working on her birthday. We sat in her section. She’d kept the drinks coming, and I’d made sure the boys gave her a whopping tip at last call. And we’d napped at my place a few days ago, and this was our third study session at the library.
But it wasn’t enough.
I needed more time alone with my girl.
“When can I get you to stay at my place again?”
She glanced up, still teasing her lips, but she paused to bite the eraser. “Tomorrow night, I’m all yours.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She leaned in closer, like she was about to tell me a secret. “I’ll even make breakfast in the morning.”
“Now, that’s dangerous.”
She laughed, a sound almost like a wind chime, one that I wanted to hear every day. “I’m glad you liked what I made, but bacon and eggs are super easy. I fear you’re giving me a little too much credit.”
“The last time I made scrambled eggs, they still had half the shells.”
Her eyes went wide as she tried to hold in her giggle. “Then, I’d say I’m practically a chef.”
I was quiet for a moment, watching this wonderful girl across from me. “Tell me something, Pearl …” I’d certainly learned a lot more about her—foods she hadn’t tried, places she wanted to visit, her intricate relationship with Gran. There was still so much to discover, many questions that hadn’t been answered and this was one. “If you could do anything on a day off, what would it be?”
The sweater she wore over the tank top was hanging at her sides, and she crossed it over her chest. “I would travel, but that really isn’t possible with Gran, and I definitely don’t have the funds.”
“What’s your next choice?”
Even though she was looking at me, her mind was suddenly in a different place—I could tell from her expression, the way she was zoning out, like she was digging through her thoughts. “I would go sledding.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “I’ve only been once.” Her voice quieted, the pain building in her eyes. “It’s one of the only good memories I have of Vanessa.”
I didn’t know anyone who called their mother by her first name. Whatever Pearl’s reasoning was, it had to be dark.
I crossed my arms on top of my textbook and said, “Tell me about it.”
She took several breaths, holding the sweater tightly across her as she started, “I was young—around five, maybe six. We were living with her boyfriend at the time in some run-down slum.” She paused, and I could sense her going back there and that it was a place she didn’t like to revisit.
“He’d stolen a set of tires the night before—he was going to pawn them for drugs—and I was on the floor, playing with one. I shouldn’t have been—it was big and heavy and could have hurt me—but there was nothing else that was safe to play with. And it was late. I should have been asleep hours before, but it had just begun to snow, and it was the first snowfall of the new year.”
I glanced at the window behind her head; the flakes coming down outside were sticking to the glass. I was sure she noticed the same thing happening behind me.
“Vanessa was on a happy drug that night instead of the heroin that made her nod out, and she was dancing around, holding her hair up like it was a cape, telling us she wanted to fly.” She scratched the table with her thumbnail, as though there were something on it that she was trying to chip away. “She told her boyfriend to grab the tire, and he carried it outside. I remember it being so cold and windy, and the snowflakes immediately soaked through our clothes.”
Her hand stilled, and she looked past me—my eyes maybe too much.
“We ended up at some hill. At the top, she sat on the tire and held me on her lap, and we went down.” She smirked, but even that was full of pain. “It was such a steep drop, and I screamed and laughed. At the bottom, the rubber skipped on the snow, and we tumbled out.” When her eyes found mine again, tears were ready to drip. “But it was fun. So much fun. And that was something I never had with her.” She wiped the bottoms of her lids, sighing. “In that moment, she wasn’t yelling at me for not taking care of her, she wasn’t shoving a needle in her arm, she wasn’t dragging me from one guy’s apartment to the next. She was being a mom, and I felt that joy even if it was short-lived.”