“Is this what you want? Do you want to use and abuse me just like the rest of them? Oh, I know. You probably think you own me now. You walk around with a gun giving me orders. Hell, you might as well be a pimp.” I saunter up to him and unbutton his jeans. “You’re exactly like every man I’ve ever met, and don’t say you’re not.” I unzip his pants.
He looks away. He’s avoiding eye contact with me. He suddenly exhales, grabs my wrists, and looks straight into my eyes.
“Put some damn clothes on. I told you I don’t want anything.”
He releases my wrists and walks past me. I watch him walk to the patio screen door. He opens it, steps outside, and then slams it closed hard. The glass rattles, which makes me jump. I stand there feeling like an idiot, even though I shouldn’t. Am I wrong to assume that he wants something from me? Is it bad to think that every person in the world will hurt me at some point? That mentality is the one thing that’s kept me alive. Fuck it and fuck him!
I quickly push the incident out of my head and pick up my black gym bag from the floor. I know there is nothing in that bag I can wear to bed, so I grab Trigs T-shirt off the floor as well, and then I head to the bathroom. I close and lock the door once inside. I put my stuff on the counter top and look up. This is the first time I’ve looked into a mirror since the hotel beat down. My stomach sinks when I see the bruises that mark my face and neck. My left eye is slightly swollen and my lip is busted. I run my fingers gently over my face and I can’t help but tear up. I’m reminded of what my dad used to do to me. I frantically take off my bloodstained bra and panties and drop them on the floor. I can’t even bother to look at the rest of my body. It’s too sad.
I can clean this off. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll wash it away, just like when I was a kid. I pull out a shaver and a few small bottles of shampoo and conditioner from my bag and jump in the shower. I begin to scrub off the dirt and blood from my skin and hair. With the hot water steaming up the room, an odor fills the shower. My whole body smells like medicine. I’ve been sweating out the Ketamine and I reek. I wash my hair and body and shave everywhere before I get out of the shower. I throw on Trig’s T-shirt because the clothes in my bag are too tight to sleep in. I glance in the mirror one last time. Jesus. I can only imagine what the people at the gas station thought.
I expect to see Trig inside the room when I come out, but he’s not. He’s still outside, sitting in a chair on the patio. I decide to make a run for it while he’s distracted. I jolt over to the bedroom door and open it. Bones is standing directly outside the doorframe, shaking his finger at me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he says.
I jump for a second. My hand falls across my heart.
“I was just checking to see if you ever found that cactus.”
Bones smiles and points me back to the bedroom. He takes the doorknob and pulls it closed. Unbelievable. Trig has a goddamn watchdog out there. I turn and walk toward the sliding glass door. Trigs still in the same spot. He’s sitting in a chair at the edge of the patio. I slowly slide open the door. He glances over his shoulder at me, and then back to the water.
“Can I come out and sit with you?” I ask, as I hover around the screen door.
He stays silent.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Take it how you want,” he says.
I can’t imagine that what I said would have offended him. He’s a big bad killer. He can take it. He looks over and squints his eyes at me, just like he did in the elevator that night. I walk over and sit in the chair next to his.
“Look. I’ve had a shitty few days to say the least. I’m mentally fucked up. I don’t know what to feel. I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t anymore. I keep replaying what happened in the hotel in my head, and I can’t understand for the life of me, why you’d save a girl like me. None of it makes sense, especially in the line of work that you do.”
“It doesn’t have to, Nine.”
“It does to me.”
“You’re stubborn, you know that?” Trig says.
“In my profession you have to be,” I respond.
I look up into the night sky that’s filled with bright stars. It’s pretty. The water, the moon, the cabin. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I take a deep breath. It’s peaceful.
“This cabin. Is it yours?” I ask, and turn to him.
He gives me the look that says don’t ask questions, but I challenge him back with my eyes.
“What? I can’t ask about property either?”
He looks back to the water.
“It used to be my mother’s. She gave it to my brother right before she passed away from cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head.
“It was years ago.”