Page 38 of Ruining Vanessa

I try to sound nonchalant while I begin wiping down the sinks. “Really? What about? I really should be getting back to cleaning.”

“I’ve been a bit worried about you. Ever since… Well, you’ve been a bit low energy.” She huffs a short laugh. “I suppose I was the same, at first.”

“You were?” I ask, eager to get the conversation off of me and back onto her. “I mean… Sorry, of course you were. How did you get through it?”

“I broke every mirror.” Elena reaches up to touch the scarred side of her face. “It’s taken me a long time to get used to this face.”

I remember her saying she’d wanted to slit her wrists, and I still can’t claim to understand that. But then, if I’d had acid splashed into my face, I’d probably be in an even worse state than I am now. Low energy? That wouldn’t even begin to cover it.

A chill runs down my spine. What if Giulio decides to follow in his father’s footsteps and do the same to me so I can’t ever, ever run? He doesn’t seem to mind her appearance, though he’s had time to get used to it.

“I can’t even imagine how difficult that had to be,” I say softly. My situation is bad enough, but hers? She was injured, disfigured, and set up in a seedy brothel that masquerades as a strip club. In comparison, I’m positively pampered.

“No, I don’t think you could.” Elena shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself. “If it hadn’t been for Giulio… He saved me. He gave me something to look forward to, even when I was at my lowest.”

I have a hard time comprehending that. Giulio just doesn’t seem like the type to save anyone or give them anything to look forward to. “What did he do?” I ask.

She smiles, the expression strange on her face. “He visited me. As often as he could. Brought me food, because of course he would want to share all the exotic things he’s eaten. And he never once flinched away from my face. Even if I’d just been brutally raped by five men, he’d insist on seeing me so he could sit with me and distract me from all of that.”

I look down at the cleaning rag in my hands. I’ve long since stopped even pretending to be cleaning the sinks, too caught up in the conversation. “That doesn’t sound like the Giulio I know,” I mumble. “He’s not like that with me.”

But there have been moments. He’s treated me kindly a few times, even going so far as to give me some of his mother’s clothes. I can see how there might be something more than the faux jovial front, or maybe that isn’t as much of a front as I think it is. I just don’t know.

“You know he improved this place a lot. He insisted on taking over the clubs.” Elena meets my eyes. “Compared to what it was like when Emilio was in charge… The man he had running the clubs was worse. A lot worse.”

But Giulio hasn’t closed the clubs entirely. That’s what a good man would have done.

“He offered to set you up with a condo,” I say, mostly to change the subject. “You’d be a lot more comfortable there than here. And you’d get to see Giulio more often.”

Elena shakes her head. “What would I do in a nice, big condo? I can’t really go shopping, looking like this. Or even get a job. And I don’t want to spend all day cooped up, worrying about getting comments from the neighbors.”

“You could order things online,” I point out. Elena’s excuses sound weak to my ears. I’d rather live in a nice condo than here, that’s for sure.

Although at least here, I have company that isn’t just Giulio, Damien, and Slayer.

“It would be lonely,” Elena says. “I have friends here.”

But does she, though? Traci and Cat certainly aren’t friends with her. Stef, maybe, and some of the women I don’t know as well, but she seems to stay in her room more often than not. I’m sure it’s nicer than mine—and she certainly isn’t locked inside all day except to do chores—but still. This club is rundown and horrible.

I nod anyway, but I think I’d rather be alone, away from the constant reminders of my situation. If I could have my own condo, with an internet connection, an e-reader, and a television, it might not be so bad. I might even be able to continue my classes for my degree. Not that I’d have a chance at using it any time soon, but at least I’d be working on something.

Looking at the club’s books is something, but it’s not nearly enough.

“I’m glad,” I say, feeling awkward as the conversation goes on. “You deserve that, and better.” I remember why she’d come looking for me in the first place, and I add, “I’m okay, though. A little tired. Damien likes to visit me at night.” Never mind that I sleep most of the time I’m in my room because there’s nothing else to do. “Thanks for checking in on me. I should probably finish the bathroom before Paul gets pissed, though.”

“Good point. Here, I can help a bit.” Elena takes a cleaning sponge from the supply set and uses it to wipe down some of the other surfaces.

I tense up as I watch her, but she really is simply helping me.

Between the two of us, we get the bathroom done fairly quickly.

“I’ll take the trash out back. You really aren’t allowed outside,” Elena says, sounding almost apologetic. “But go check on the girls in the private rooms. I think they might still need help cleaning there.”

I nod. “Thanks for the help.” I wash my hands thoroughly, watching as she exits the bathroom, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

The old sponge is out, and the new one is in.

For now, at least, I’m safe.

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