"Yeah. Cutting a lot off is almost life-changing. Do you like it, though?"
"I think so."
She smiled at me through the reflection of the mirror. "It will grow on you, or at least grow out over time."
"Good to know." I grinned.
I was excited to show Frankie, but when we walked out of the bathroom, he was sleeping on the small couch. We were supposed to go back to the city after Jackie cut my hair because the auction was starting soon, but I knew he was tired.
"Should I wake him?" I asked.
"Let me make some coffee, and then you can."
"Okay." I followed her a few steps to her kitchen. I'd never seen such a small house before, but it was warm, and I felt as though I finally belonged in a place. It was weird because the house was all I knew, but being here just felt right. Maybe it was because I saw myself in Jackie, and I knew she really was my real mother. I never saw myself in Madam, and I finally knew why.
"Do you want anything to eat? I can make breakfast."
"Sure."
"Pancakes?"
"I love pancakes." I beamed.
"Me too."
She grabbed a box from a cabinet and then set out to make the batter after turning the coffee pot on. "What's your favorite food?"
I thought for a moment as I watched her mix water and eggs into the batter. "I'm not sure. I eat a lot of sandwiches, but I don't think they're my favorite."
"I eat a lot of sandwiches too, but only because it's just me."
"We have a chef, but he only cooks for Madam."
Jackie frowned. "I hate that you live in that place. I thought you'd have a better life living on the Upper East Side."
"It's not that bad. I mean, the girls are really nice to me."
"That's good, but I really hate that you've lived your life in a brothel. That's no place for a child."
I shrugged. "I didn't know it was a brothel until a few years ago." As she poured the batter onto a hot skillet, I asked, "Will you tell me about my father?" I'd always wanted to know about him but never asked Madam because I was scared of her.
Jackie drew her head back slightly. "Oh, um … sure." She poured more batter into the pan. "He was a good man. He obviously got mixed up with Frank and his drugs, but Russ was always good to me. We met at a Fourth of July party, got married six months later, and then I got pregnant with you within the year. He wanted to provide for his family, and I thought he worked for a food company and made deliveries for them, but instead, he was selling drugs for Frank and pocketing the money. I don't think he realized how dangerous Frank was because Russ always wanted to see the good in people. That's what I loved about him. When we found out that our little family was growing, he just wanted to make sure we both had everything we needed. The night Frank killed him, Russ was only trying to make me happy. I was craving banana pudding, and he'd do anything for me, even go out in the snow with his eight-month pregnant wife so she could get pudding and her exercise."
"I'm sorry Mr. Russo killed him," I stated as though it was my fault.
Jackie sighed and flipped a pancake. "Me too. I was angry for many years about everything, but I also think that I was meant to be there."
"Why?" I questioned.
"I can't imagine the guilt I would have felt for all these years if he had gone out for pudding alone and never returned home."
"But it was Mr. Russo that killed him," I argued.
"Yes, but Frank killed him because your father was stealing from him. I would have never known that, and I'm positive I wouldn't know anything to this day." I could see her point. "Of course, on the other hand, you wouldn't have been taken from me and lived in a brothel with that bitch for your entire life."
"It really hasn't been that bad," I admitted. "Until …"
"Until you ran away and were raped?"
I nodded. "But that was my own fault—"
"Bullshit!" she boomed, and then lowered her voice. "No woman deserves to be violated like that."
"Mr. Russo raped you, right?" I questioned. "Before you fell in love with him."
Jackie took the pancakes off the pan and put them onto a plate. She sighed. "Yes, he did in the beginning. Now I miss him when he's not here."
"Why?"
She grabbed the syrup and butter then handed me the plate of pancakes. "It's hard to explain. He's the only other person I've seen and had physical contact with in fifteen years."
"Still not the life anyone should live," Frankie stated as he sat up. "And I'm fucking going to change it."
"What?" I asked as Frankie drove down the dirt road we'd come in on. We had just left Jackie, promising her that we would be back once everything was taken care of. We didn't know how long that would be, but I hoped soon because I wanted to get to know her better. I wanted us both to be free to live our lives.
"You look older," he stated.
"Older?"
"I mean, with your haircut. You look like you're in your twenties or something."
"Is that a bad thing?"
He shook his head. "No, not at all. Just need to get used to it."
"Me too."
He reached across to my seat and squeezed my knee. "How does it feel meeting your real mother?"
I blew out a long breath. "It seems to all make sense now."
"You mean about Madam?"
I nodded. "Even though I was told she was my mother, she never acted like one. And our hair and eye color are the complete opposite."
"Yeah. I mean, I don't know how it all works with genetics, but you don't look like Madam at all."
"Do you think I look like Jackie?"
"Hell yeah, you two look a lot alike."
"I wonder what my father looked like," I stated.
Frankie thought for a moment. "Maybe once this is all over with, we can find your real family."
"Like who?"
"Your grandparents? We'll take Jackie back to her family, which is your family too, and maybe someone will have a picture of your father."
"I'd like that." I beamed.
"First, we need to take care of my father."
"Do you think this plan will work?"
He shrugged. "I hope so."
"What if he just starts keeping girls at another place?"
"I don't know." Frankie sighed. "Hopefully, with the fire, there will be some sort of investigation, and maybe they will find out who my father really is."
"Didn't you say he has cops on his payroll?" I questioned.
"Yeah, but I don't think he has the entire NYPD on it."
I thought for a moment. "What about my friends? We need to save them too."
"I know, but we can think of a plan for that later. Right now, we need my father to be off his game. That way, he won't realize what's hit him."
"Won't he just start over?"
"Maybe."
"What if he comes after you for doing this to him?" I asked.