Page 7 of Blood Secret

“He deserved it.” And much worse, the sick fuck.

“He was your boss.”

“I literally can’t believe you’re defending him.” I rubbed my forehead against an impending migraine. I could feel it coming on as sure as I felt my heart racing and my palms sweating. Sometimes, if I concentrated hard enough on concentrating on nothing, it went away before things got really bad. But that would mean getting off the phone. “Mom, please. My head’s really starting to hurt. Can you help me or not?”

“A migraine?”

“Maybe. And I don’t even have aspirin in the medicine cabinet.”

“I can hear it in your voice.” The one way I was ever able to get her attention, to garner sympathy. A migraine. “All right. I’ll transfer money into your account.”

“Thank you, Mom. I swear, I’ll pay you back.”

“As you always say,” she sighed. Then, in a softer voice, “Get some rest. Find a way to get out of the heat. I’m sure it isn’t helping.” One of the most motherly things she’d said to me in ages.

I thanked her before ending the call as fast as possible and tossing the phone onto the bed.

The pain started at the base of my skull and radiated through my head. Mom was right about something for once—the heat wasn’t helping. I pulled the fan from the window and placed it on the little table which served as a nightstand, then soaked a wash cloth in cold water and barely wrung it out before crawling into bed and draping it over my forehead.

Sleep was the only thing that would help, and letting my mind wander freely while I did everything I could to relax was the only way I would get to sleep.

I couldn’t help but think about Jimmy, and Mom. The way she had defended him since we were kids, no matter what he did. The way slights against me meant nothing compared to slights against him. He pulled the head off my favorite doll? Boys will be boys. I kicked him in the shin for it? I was a hellion, incorrigible, and grounded for a week.

It didn’t matter that his filthy, slimy, fat pig of a boss pinned me up against his desk and stuck his hand up my skirt. That his breath was hot and rank with the smell of whatever nasty shit he’d eaten for lunch that day. That I’d scrubbed my skin raw when I got home later, after kneeing him in the balls, before sitting with my knees drawn up to my chin in the shower until there was no hot water left. Even then, I had stayed there with the icy water pelting down on me, shivering, weeping.

Because it was more than the memory of that heart-stopping terror when I’d realized what he wanted from me. When I had asked myself what I was supposed to do to keep him from doing worse. It wasn’t even the way my skin had crawled when he’d breathed a heavy, hot sigh and pressed his pathetic excuse for a cock against my thigh.

It was knowing I had lost an otherwise great job. Security for the first time since leaving Mom’s house. When my brother had first found the job for me, I’d been beside myself. Sure, it meant working in an office with a bunch of soulless drones—or so I’d told myself—but it also meant being able to pay my bills without worry. Being able to get takeout whenever I wanted instead of eating another packet of Ramen. Going to the doctor whenever I needed to since I’d have health insurance through the company. Buying a window air conditioner, and a space heater when the apartment froze in winter.

Maybe even moving to a better apartment, or renting studio space to work in whenever I had the time.

All those dreams had dissolved that day. And all my mother wanted to harp about was how much harder Jimmy’s life was as a result. Nothing about what it did to me, being groped like that, losing a great-paying job with benefits. Getting knocked down, just like I always did.

Thinking about that wasn’t doing anything to help my head.

I turned my thoughts to the club, where I’d be again that night. There was just way too much interesting material there to keep away. Too many people to take mental pictures of, to run home and sketch out in pencil before I forgot the details. I already had enough of those quick sketches to turn into my next series. Children of the Night, maybe.

And they were children of the night, for sure. Their skin was so pale, almost translucent, that it looked like they never stepped foot outside during the day. There was so much beauty about them, but it was a savage beauty. Like beautiful, vicious animals.

How could I not want to draw them, capture them for the rest of the world to see?

Not everybody had the balls to hang out in their clubs.

Not that they were for real, not even close. A bunch of posers, people who pretended to be who they weren’t because they didn’t like who they were. They felt powerless, so they had to invent power. I couldn’t blame them for it. How many times had I wanted to do the same thing? But I wouldn’t pretend to be a blood drinker. I wouldn’t call myself a witch and worship the moon, or a bunch of goddesses people made up back when there was no such thing as science to explain normal, natural phenomenon.

We were all outcasts. That might have been what called me to them, what made them so interesting.

Anybody in their right mind would steer clear.

Mom would have a cow if she knew where I was getting inspiration for my work. A great, big, full-grown cow.

The thought made me smile in spite of the pain.

Pain that was diminishing the longer I let myself relax. Knowing there would be money in my account the next time I checked helped me relax, for sure. She could be a real bitch, but she generally came through when I needed her. Even though I had to reach dire straits first.

Then again, I didn’t like asking for help unless I was on the verge of disaster. Who would willingly put herself through feeling two inches tall unless it was absolutely necessary? Why would I call and be reminded of how I screwed up that job with Jimmy’s boss unless I was down to half a box of dry cereal?

Someday, my work would be famous.

And I would be rich.

And men like Mr. Fat Ass Wannabe Rapist Hackett would pay for what they did to girls like me.

I slid into sleep with a smile on my face, with my head finally full of the sort of thoughts that made the pain go away.

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