Page 4 of Queen of Spades

My eyes were beginning to drift closed as she rinsed out my hair, my body deciding that consciousness was not worth the effort any longer. What did it say about the state of my mental faculties if I was falling asleep in a room with strangers after letting one of them wash my hair?

“Grace? Stay with us just a little longer, okay?” Wren murmured, touching her hand to my shoulder. I blinked a few times, forcing my eyes to stay open so my head wouldn’t slip under the water. “Roe, a towel?” Water splashed across the floor as the three of us struggled to lift my useless body out of the bathtub. I felt like my limbs were made of overcooked spaghetti. They managed to get me wrapped in a towel and led me back out into the little room, setting me down on the bed. Wren whispered something to her sister, who disappeared for a moment, returning with an armful of clothes. Wren slid a soft cotton t-shirt over my head, and to my shame, she helped me into a pair of cotton panties that definitely weren’t mine. Roe held out a small wrapped object to her, and Wren’s eyes widened.

“Oh, um. I think you’ll need this,” she told me, and I realized it was a menstrual pad. My cheeks burned, and I took the package from her, fumbling to open it. At least it wasn’t atampon, I didn’t think I could’ve handled that right now. They helped me into a pair of sweatpants, and by the time I was dressed, I was barely conscious. Wren helped me to lay down, and I curled up on my side as she drew the covers up over me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, tears pricking my eyes as I burrowed deep under the blanket. I didn’t know if she heard me, and I was already asleep before she had the chance to respond.

Chapter three

Grace

Ididn’t know how long I slept for, but it felt like a year. I’d wake up every so often, and Wren—or Roe, it was hard to tell—would help me to the bathroom. Sometimes they would keep me upright long enough to drink some warm broth or a few sips of water. Once, we tried some porridge, but it made me throw up immediately, so we stuck with liquids only. There was no way for me to tell time, and I hadn’t seen a window in my few bleary glances around the strange room I was in. All I wanted to do was sleep, my body refusing to function for more than ten minutes at a time. The bed was my home, the covers protecting me from the world.

Finally, one day I woke up and my mind felt… different. I sat up gingerly, minding the bruises that still covered me from head to toe, and brushed my hair out of my face. It was like a switch had flipped. I felt awake, actually awake, for the first time in ages. I slid out of bed, rising carefully on my unsteady legs. The weakness was still evident, probably from my diet of broth and bed rest. I shuffled over to the bathroom, usingthe wall for support, and flicked on the light as I stumbled inside.

The person in the mirror was a stranger. Pale and pinched, bruises in various stages of healing covered one side of my face completely. Another bruise traveled across my jaw on the other side, connecting with more purple marks on my neck. I gathered my hair over to one side and leaned down, splashing some water on my face. The cramps were gone, and the bleeding had finally stopped too. I still looked like a fresh corpse, but at least I was starting to feel like myself again.

Whoever that was.

I shuffled back into the room, looking around curiously. I’d been so out of it, I’d never asked Wren where we were.Am I still in California? Who were they exactly?So many questions, and the sparse room provided no answers. I crept toward the door, listening for movement outside. My hand grasped the handle, and I hissed in surprise as it opened unhindered. I wasn’t locked in here.What the hell does this mean?

A quick glance outside told me nothing, there were no pictures on the walls, no indications of life at all. I slipped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind me, and I started off down the hall, using the wall for support. I peered around the corner and discovered an empty kitchen with a small dining table in the middle. There was a window in this room and, judging from the sunlight shining through it, it was mid-afternoon. I shuffled to the counter, leaning over to see if I recognized the view.I must be on the second floor?I didn’t recognize the area, but it was a little more run down, more graffiti on the buildings nearby.

Where the hell am I?

Voices sounded nearby, and I glanced behind me, finding what must be the front door. They were getting closer, and I heard Wren’s—or maybe Roe’s—voice rise up above them, barking something sharp. I looked around frantically.Should I go back to the room? Should I hide?I saw the knife block and grabbed a smaller fileting knife, hiding it behind my back as the handle rattled and the door swung open.

“Angel?” Erik’s voice was louder than the blood pounding in my ears, and he pushed through the doorway, his eyes alight with excitement.

My jaw dropped open, and I sagged against the counter, gripping the knife tightly. He hurried over toward me, and I realized that they were all here, staring at me wide-eyed as they piled into the apartment. Roe and Wren were with them, and their mouths were set in identical grim lines.

“Don’t,” I rasped as Erik got close. I held out the knife in front of me, and that stopped him in his tracks, his hands going up defensively, a look of hurt crossing his face.

“Angel, it’s okay, you’re okay,” he assured me. The memory of him staring at me, his cold eyes devoid of emotion before he abandoned me to Douglas, rose to the forefront of my mind.

“We don’t need her anymore.”

“Don’t. Stay there,” I warned, my voice breaking as I strained to get the words out. The knife was shaking in my hand, but I kept it pointed at his chest, my other hand gripping the countertop for support.

“You’re safe now, I promise,” Erik insisted, and Wren slipped past him, watching me warily as she approached.

“Youpromise?” I choked out a harsh laugh, and his eyes widened. “Your promises mean nothing!You-” my throat was closing up, tears threatening to spill over as I glared at him. “Stop pretending you care about me,” I bit out, heaving in a shuddered breath.

“King, you all need to leave,” Roe announced, crossing the room toward me. She turned and stood on my left, while Wren shifted closer on my right, her hip brushing mine.

“What? Roe, come on!” Erik sputtered, his eyes never leaving mine. I could’ve sworn the hurt on his face was genuine, but he’d tricked me before. Roe pulled a gun out from under her jacket and aimed it at his chest, making my eyes widen. Jesse was moving toward us, and Roe shifted the gun to him, stopping him in his tracks.

“I mean this in the kindest way possible, but you all need to get the fuck out of my space right now,” she announced loudly. “Grace is scared and none too happy with you at the moment. Until I find out why, you need to leave. I will not have a woman feeling unsafe in my home.” I noticed Wren was signing beside me, and Jesse’s face fell. I looked toward Levy, who immediately flickered out of view the moment my eyes found him. Anders was seething mad, and he turned on his heel and stormed out the door, slamming his fist into the wall on the way past. I flinched, and Wren squeezed my shoulder gently.

“I’ll go for now, but I’m not going far,” Erik conceded, backing up a step. “Do you hear me, Angel? I’m not leaving you.” I was shaking fully now, and the moment the door closed behind them I crumpled, the knife clattering to the ground as I sank to the floor.

“Breathe, just breathe, Grace,” Wren murmured, her delicate arms wrapping around me as her sister picked up theknife and set it back on the counter, returning the gun to the holster behind her back.

“Let’s get you some tea,” Roe stated, busying herself with the kettle while Wren stroked my hair, trying to calm me down. A few minutes later, a warm mug was thrust into my hands, and the smell of peppermint washed over me.

“Come on, let’s sit on the couch, alright?” Wren smiled and helped me to my feet. We moved into the small living room area, and she settled me onto the couch, sitting next to me as Roe handed her a mug of her own.

“So, what did King do, exactly?” Roe asked, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. She had no tea, instead, she had a bottle of some kind of beer, it looked Japanese. Two identical sets of dark brown eyes stared at me, waiting for an explanation.

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