Page 399 of Under Her Skin
“They killed her, Selima,” Ama’s voice broke. “In front of me. He slashed her throat, and I saw her die. She’s been my assistant for years …I don’t know why she would have done this. Until I know the reason, I can’t condemn her …I justcan’t.”
Selima hugged her sister tightly. “Right. I know. I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Look, it’s my own fault I’m here. Enda wanted me to have protection, but that night, I just wanted to be alone with Chase, so I gave them the slip. Stupidly. Chase was shot and I was taken. If I hadjust…”
“I think we can go round and round on what we bothshould havedone, but the person to blame for all of this isJackson.”
Selima studied her sister. “He’s making you sleep with him, isn’the?”
Ama nodded. “It’s a small price to pay for yoursafety.”
Selima gagged and dashed into the small bathroom of her suite. Ama, nauseated too, followed her, looking around the small room. No windows. Ama was beginning to feel claustrophobic. “We’re underground, aren’twe?”
Selima nodded. “Yes.” She glanced up at the camera and mic above them, then grabbed Ama’s hand, leaning into hug her to hide what she was doing. She traced a word onto Ama’s palm, just like they had when they were young and keeping secrets from theirparents.
Fresno.
Ama was shocked. God, they were so close to home … She opened her mouth to ask a question, but Selima shook her head.Right. They were beingwatched.
For the rest of the hour, they lay together on Selima’s bed and talked about neutral things …food and their uncle’s house in Hyderabad where they had spent many happy summers growing up. Ama didn’t talk about Italy, or Enda, or their life there. She picked up from Selima to keep all their discussion’s neutral and inoffensive. Maybe if Ama ‘behaved,' they would be allowed to stay together more often. Maybe even permanently. If they could spend the night together, when the lights were out they could communicate via their childish language and figure a wayout.
Later,the guards took her back to a different suite, not too far from Selima’s, which was again like a hotel room. On the bed was a box containing a note, some expensive-looking lingerie, and a beautiful dark red evening dress. Ama read thenote.
Bathe and changeinto these items. Tonight, we will dine in your new suite, and then you will show me how grateful you are. If you please me, we will talk about your living arrangements and those of yoursister.
Ama wanted to cry.She closed her eyes and sat on the bed. Was this actually happening? Forced to have sex with a man and pretend it was all she wanted in exchange for the lives of those she loved. Really, how did Jackson expect all this to turn out? It was then she realized—or rather, acknowledged—what she already knew. She, Ama, wasn’tmeantto get out of this alive. Jackson would make her subservient to him until he grew tired of her, and then he would kill her and move on to his nextobsession.
In that case,she thought fiercely,I will make sure Selima gets home, and I will do anything to make that happen. And if I’m destined to die …I will make damn sure Jackson comes withme.
She went into the bathroom of the suite and ran the water into the tub. A selection of toiletries were lined up. She had to admit that, when she stepped into the warm water, it was a relief to be clean again. On the countertop were some packages of new underwear and fresh dressings for herwound.
She lay back in the water and let her mind drift to a happy memory. Back in their villa in Italy, their own tub was a vast iron antique that took a half hour to fill, but was the most comfortable she’d ever been in. She and Enda would soak there, kissing and talking as the evening moved into night. Often their lovemaking would begin in thetub.
The nightshe remembered what happened a few months back. Enda had been late home from work and Ama had been composing a new suite for her students to study when she returned to work. She had forgotten the time, and it was only when she looked up that she had realized it was past eight o’clock. As she always switched her phone off when composing, she’d checked her messages and realized she had missed a call from Enda. She’d called himback.
“Ciao,Bella.”
She’d grinned. “Hello, gorgeous. I’m sorry I missed your call. I waswriting.”
“I thought you might be. Listen, I just called to say I’d be late and I wondered if I should pick up a pizza fordinner?”
“As long as we can eat it inbed.”
Enda had laughed. “That’s what I was hoping. God, what aday.”
“Good orbad?”
“Good, but busy. Raff and I might have a track on some investors who are interested in the musicschools.”
“Soundsfun.”
“Ha,” Enda had chuckled, “Fun will be the building of the schools. This is the boring, but worthwhile part. How’s the writinggoing?”
“Okay …I’m not overly happy yet, but it’s getting there. Where are younow?”
“Outside Lucio’s,” he’d said, mentioning their favorite pizzaplace.
“Good, so you’re on your wayhome.”
“I’ll be there in a few,caramia.”
