Page 7 of The Devil's Secret

He looks so much like me. From the moment he was born, I saw myself, and to this day, at seven and a half, he has his mama’s eyes and my hair too.

I don’t think I could’ve handled if he looked anything like his father. A shudder rolls down my arms, the tiny hairs popping up. God, even the thought of that man sharing DNA with my baby makes me violently ill.

My mind drifts to Patrick as I stare at myself in the mirror, trying to find the pieces of the woman he saw, or at least I hope he did. If anyone could find her again, maybe I could too. Maybe there’s still hope for her.

For me.

Was he genuine? Was he really looking for a friend or was he like every man here, wanting to sleep with me for free? They try. They want everything.

They can pay for that too, though. It’s on the menu if they ask.

We’re not supposed to talk about it, and my boss, Chiara, has no idea it happens, but her father, the one who owns the club, and Agnelo, the one who’s in charge of us, allows it to happen.

Well, allow is a loose term. His people kidnapped me and my two friends and made us work for them.

We were locked in tiny cages, the size made for dogs. We were barely fed. We showered once a week or when they needed us for work. Once they decided to make us permanent somewhere, such as a strip club, or their members-only sex club, then we were put up at shabby houses they own, usually multiple girls in one home.

If any girl tried to run, to talk to another about anything related to what happened to us, they were killed. I’ve had roommates shot to death right in front of me, their bodies never to be found. That’s what the men told us, that our bodies would be gone forever, that our families would never even find pieces of us. That fear, it worked, and we kept quiet, not even talking to each other about anything.

For me, it’s even worse. They have my son. They always use him as leverage. If I don’t do what they ask, they’ll kill him or sell him to some pervert, and I’ll never see him again. I can’t let them harm my baby. I’ll do whatever they want. However they want it.

They call me Joelle, but once, I was Jade Macintyre.

* * *

“I really don’t want you going, Jade,” Mom says from behind me, her tone gripped with worry. “Do you really need to go?” She leans a hip against the doorframe of my bedroom as I peer over my shoulder, folding the last few items of my clothes and laying them into the suitcase.

Once I zipper it up, I walk up to her and place both hands on her shoulders. “I’ll be okay, Mom.”

She shakes her head, fingers pressing into her temple.

“I’m nineteen,” I continue. “I’m not your baby anymore.”

“Oh.” She huffs with a grumble, playing with the edge of her short, blonde hair, framing her jaw. “Thanks very much for reminding me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” I tease, the corner of my mouth lifting. “I’ll have my phone. You can call me anytime. Okay? Stop worrying so much.”

“How can I stop worrying when you’re planning on driving around the country like a crazy person? Who does that? Why couldn’t you do something else? Like skydiving? Swimming with sharks? There are so many other reckless possibilities.”

“I need this, Mom. I’ll be in school for so many years. And I’ll have Elsie and Kayla with me.”

“Again, not feeling any better, young lady. Can I come with you? I’m quiet and fun. I can hang with the cool kids.”

I let out a laugh, the kind that has your whole body shuddering. My momisfun, but she’s always been more mom than friend. She knew when to let me fly and knew when to keep me close within the safety of her wings.

She had to be both mother and father to my brother, Elliot, and me, who’s three years younger. My father left when she was pregnant with him, and we’ve never seen him again. No cards. No letters. Nothing. He met another woman at work and started a family with her instead, forgetting the one he already had.

But we’ve survived without him just fine. My mother was more than he could’ve ever been. She worked two jobs to keep us fed and housed. She made sure we had new clothes, healthy food. She was our rock and still is. That’s why I’m planning on going to med school once I finish college. Not only do I love kids and can’t wait to work as a pediatrician, but I want to make money to help her for once instead.

“Great, Ma.” Elliot’s voice travels as his feet prod across the tiles. “So, you’re going to abandon the one child who isn’t leaving you for the one that is? Nice one.”

Mom turns as he makes it beside her. Her arm wraps around him, bringing him into her side. “I’d sneak you into the luggage. Obviously.” She rolls her eyes. “Just don’t tell your sister,” she half whispers while her gaze is on me, the edges of her pale blue eyes crinkling from the smile radiating through them.

“Yeah, okay. You’re both staying here,” I tell her. “I’ll be just fine on my own.”

“Good.” Elliot coils his mouth into a playful smile. “I didn’t want to come anyway. You’re too loud and annoying.”

“Me?” I screech. “Ha! Look who’s talking.” I prop a hand on my hip, twisting up my brows. “Remember the time you put shaving cream all over my lips while I slept and sprinkled it with cinnamon. Who even does that?”

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