Page 107 of Velvet Cruelty

I hesitate, wondering if this is just more games.

“No tricks. Let me help you.”

I place my hand in his and he lifts me to my feet. “How do you feel?”

The answer to that question is too large for me to say. I just nod.

He gives me a sad smile and nudges me toward the bathroom. “My ensuite is through there. Shower. I’ll wait for you.”

I wash in a jumble of disjointed movements, water running through my hair. I won. I kept my virginity. I negotiated my way out of a dead-end deal, all on my own.

I creep out of the bathroom, expecting Eli to be sitting where he was, but he’s standing by the bed as Bobby lays down fresh sheets.

“Here.” Bobby says when he’s finished, throwing open the covers and beckoning me.

I look to Eli. He moves toward me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I need to go, but you are to sleep here tonight.”

I open my mouth but no sound comes out.

Eli leans down and kisses me softly on the forehead. “Lie down. Bobby will stay with you and keep you safe.”

I climb into bed and Bobby slips in the other side. We lie there together, almost touching. Is he feeling the same as me? That he’d like to hold me but he’s not sure if it’s appropriate? I shift, brushing my shoulder against his. Bobby presses back, his skin warm as sunshine. “JJ?”

“Yes?”

“Can you sing for me?”

My heart squeezes. “Um, sure. What would you like to hear?”

“That French one.”

I know what song he means. ‘La vie en Rose.’ “Are you sure Eli or someone won’t be mad if I make noise?”

His fingers weave through mine. “I’m positive. Please sing for me.”

I close my eyes and sing as quietly as I can, my voice cracking over the lower notes. And as I whisper the words to ‘La vie en Rose’ Bobby lets out a soft breath, as though something inside him has released. And when I’m finished, we lie together, holding hands.

***

“We’re gonna need to head out there today. Make sure…”

“…But not if…”

“…Yeah, that’s a better idea…”

Light presses against my eyelids. I ignore it. I’m so tired and my whole body aches.

“What else?” a man asks.

It’s Bobby. I can feel his legs beside me, hairy and warm, like a big friendly teddy bear.

“Not much, we’re just stuck dealing with the fallout.”

That’s Mr. Morelli. He must be standing by the bed.

“There were always going to be casualties,” says a third voice. The sore patch on my neck throbs. It’s Doc. Is he here because he’s forgiven me? Is everything okay?

“What if it’s a coincidence?” Bobby asks.

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