Page 9 of Queen Of Clubs

“I’ll go get it,” I tell him, turning to leave. He reaches out, snatching my wrist in his clammy hand. The skin burns where he touches, and I try not to let the churning feeling in my stomach win. Would it be too much if I burned the skin he touched?

My eyes snap over to his, body going on alert. He’s never really tried anything with me, only leering at me with the occasional wandering eyes. His eyes roam over my body, and another wave of nausea hits me. He gives me one of his pervy side smiles. “Red hair sure does look pretty on you, Jade.”

Doing my best to conceal my reaction, I snatch my hand back from him with a little force and turn, heading back into the kitchen.

I step into the room and take a moment to close my eyes and breathe. Two more weeks. Fourteen more days. That's it. Then I’m free. Anything is better than this, even living on the streets.

Bypassing the fridge, I head right for the sink. Turning it to the hot water, I press three pumps of soap into my hand and scrub the skin he touched. God only knows where his hands have been. I don’t even want to think about it.

Afterward, I grab a beer bottle from the fridge and head back into the living room.

Luck is on my side because he’s distracted by his team scoring a goal, so I place the bottle on the side table next to his chair and slip out of the room.

Grabbing my food, I race upstairs before either of them can ask me to do anything else. I’m sure they will eventually, but at least I can eat my meal in peace.

Closing my bedroom door behind me, I make sure to lock it. I pass the bed and head right for the open window.

It’s a nice night, a comfortable cool mixed with summer heat. I still come out here every night to watch the sunset.

Looking to my right, my heart does this little stutter as an image of the brown-haired, hazel-eyed boy flashes into my mind.

Blinking, I look away and take a bite of my food.

Two more weeks. Two more weeks, and I’m free.

THE WEEK WAS HELL. It’s like Karen and Charles knew that this was the last week they would have me to do all their stupid dirty work, meaning they worked me to the bone. I didn’t even get a chance to participate in the graduation events. Had to miss prom altogether. It made me despise them more than I already do, and I didn’t know that was even possible.

It’s not that I planned on going to prom, I didn’t have a date or money for a dress. It’s just the fact that the choice was taken from me that fills me with resentment.

Prom is something people say all kids should experience in their high school years. I might have missed out on my prom, but when the guys had theirs, they all took me as their date. It was a night I’d never forget.

They even all pitched in to get me a dress. But I had to sneak out of the house and get ready in the school bathroom because Karen said I wasn’t allowed to go.

I got caught when we all came home, but it was worth the verbal lashing and the extra chores.

“Jade Love,” my principal calls my name. Dressed in my black cap and gown, I walk across the stage. My teachers give me bright, proud smiles, and I try to give one back, but the smile doesn’t reach my eyes.

As I turn my attention to the hundreds of people in the crowd, the realization that they aren’t here to see me hits me hard. A lump rises in my throat as the back of my eyes sting.

They said they would be here, sitting in the crowd. Griffin promised he would be the loudest one, cheering me on.

But there’s no one here, no one cheering for me.

I’m still alone in this world.

THE NEXT FEW DAYS ARE the same as any other day. Wake up, work, eat, sleep. I count down the days, hours, minutes until I’m eighteen. Tomorrow. Tomorrow and I’m out of here, free from their toxic controlling ways.

The only money I have to my name was what the guys sent me years ago when they first started working before they got their deal with Boom Voice Records.

Each of them sent me a few hundred, and I managed to keep it hidden under a loose floorboard in my room. I didn’t even have a bank account to put it in. Karen never saw the point in it because she didn’t think I’d need to use one.

That's one of the first things I need to do when I get a place of my own, open a bank account. Thankfully, the state required me to get an ID at sixteen through the foster care system. It should be enough to get me far away from here. I’m still not sure if I want to move somewhere else in Nevada or to one of the surrounding states. I’m considering California, just not LA. Anywhere but LA.

After I’m done begrudgingly cleaning the bathroom—when it sure as fuck didn’t need it since I did it yesterday—I head downstairs to put away the cleaning supplies.

“We need to keep her around longer. At least until she presents.” Charles’ voice has me coming to a halt.

“How the hell do we do that?” Karen hisses. “You damn well know that girl is out of here tomorrow. She has her bags packed and everything.”

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