Page 71 of A Secret and a Lie
The day started with the most perfect morning, @livingh3ll’s deep voice filling my bedroom like a serene safety blanket, even if the connection was more than a little spotty. I was hoping that meant that today might be different, better.
Talking to @livingh3ll is more amazing than anything I could’ve dreamed up. I was content messaging back and forth, but now that we’ve progressed to talking on the phone, I find my stomach twisted with a foreign feeling that I’ve never once experienced when meeting with clients.
I like him, more than I ever expected to.I was halfway prepared for him to be an elderly-sounding man, and if he had, I was going to admit to myself that I’m into silver foxes. Instead, he sounds about my age, which only fed this delightful fantasy I have of being with him.
You can’t message someone nearly every day for almost a year and not come to like or care for them. I don’t know what he does for the military or if his job is dangerous, but it’s at the point where I worry about him. Outside of Corinne and Marcus, he’s the only one I have in my life who might care if Leo unscrewed my head from my shoulders.
Sex work makes dating difficult. Men become insecure the moment you mention that you sleep with people for a living, then they come to resent you for it. It’s why I’ve mostly opted out of the dating scene. My clients keep me busy enough anyway, and when I’m not engaging with them, I’m attempting to stay off Leo’s radar.
I want to know @livingh3ll, want to come home to him at night and spend my Saturdays curled up having movie marathons together. I’m dying to learn how he takes his coffee, and to teach myself how to cook a steak just to watch his face light up when he takes a bite. I want to laugh with him, slide my hand in his and rest my head on his chest. The prospect of being together makes my heart flutter and my stomach flip, and I’m tired of ignoring that feeling.
Clutching my likely broken wrist to my chest, I try to get to my feet as tears blur my vision.
“Hey, Gen, take it easy. Let me help you,” Marcus offers, reaching down to assist me.
When I’m on shaky feet, he leads me over to the couch and drags me close to him. He smells spicy and warm, safe, and I nestle closer as he runs a hand gently down my back.
I sniff. “You shouldn’t be doing this. If he catches you soothing me, he’ll—”
“You let me worry about Leo. I’ll wipe the security footage just in case, and he won’t be back for another few hours, and you’ll be home by then. Let me look at your wrist.”
Pulling back, I offer my left hand, and he winces. “That’s definitely fractured. You need to see someone, Genevieve.” He’s quiet for a minute and brushes a kiss on the top of my head.
I close my eyes, tears spilling down my cheeks, and nod.
Four hours later, Marcus helps me into the apartment, and Corinne grabs my purse from him as he helps me to the couch.
Marcus never left my side once while I was in the emergency room, even forcing his way into the radiology room when they took x-rays. I’m sure the staff thought he was my abuser, but he’s only ever been my friend.
When I’m curled up with a blanket covering my lower half, I stare out the window at the dark horizon lit by buildings and apartments as I listen to my friends mutter together in the kitchen.
“God, this is getting to be too much. What was the reason for the beating this time?”
“Leo thinks she’s shorting him,” Marcus replies.
“She is. But almost all of us do that, yet she gets his fists twice as often as anyone else.” Corinne sounds both gravely concerned and exasperated. I don’t blame her.
I wince as I shift, glancing down at my broken wrist wrapped in a cast. This is going to be a problem for the next six to eight weeks, and I can’t afford not to work. I suppose I’m going to be pretending I fell down the stairs. It’s not the first time I’ve used that excuse. Apparently, I’m quite clumsy.
Marcus’s voice drops, though I can still hear him. “Leo is going to kill her one of these times. She’s in danger, Corinne.”
“We’reallin danger.” She huffs. “From Leo, from the police, from our clients. There’s danger everywhere. We’re powerless.”
We’re powerless.
Corinne’s statement still swirls in my mind long after Marcus leaves, and I tuck myself into bed.
Thoughts of power and supreme authority drill holes into mymind as I stare at the ceiling. What if it’s possible to harness control of things? What if there’s a way to hold the power in these situations, to control those that control us, to shield ourselves from the dangers that lurk in the grass? What if I could own those who seek to own me?
“What happened to you, sugar?” Henry asks, jumping up from the edge of the hotel bed and scurrying over to me now that the door is closed.
I smile at him, though I know I look like hell. Corinne and I spent nearly an hour attempting to cover the dark bruises with makeup, but that only helped a little. There was no chance I was cancelling on Henry tonight, though, and not just because Leo would surely kill me.
I have a soft spot for the newly elected senator. He’s easily my kindest client, and I wish I knew him in another life, in another version of my story.
“I’m fine, I promise. I just…fell down the stairs.” I grimace internally at the lie, and it must not have been convincing since Henry narrows his eyes, pursing his lips.
After a moment, he opens his mouth, but I shake my head, cutting him off. I only have one client who might be able to offer their assistance, and it’s not him. Still, I suspect that help is solely up to me.
