Page 37 of Savage Roses

Stitches looks the funniest—he’s ditched his wire-framed glasses and bleached his mousy brown hair a silvery blond, including his brows and facial hair. He’s even got on a fake muscle suit under his tuxedo to give the illusion he’s beefier than he is. It works—he instantly appears about twenty pounds heavier.

Delphine put a lot of thought into her disguise too. She went and hired a makeup artist to work some magic, changing her features as much as possible. I have no clue what was done, but I overheard the word contour used several times, and when she emerges, she looks more like a cousin of herself than herself. The makeup artist has even added a few fake birth marks and Delphine’s hidden her tight, springy curls under a long, auburn wig with bangs.

I’ve made the least effort in my disguise. I shaved my beard and put on some colored contacts, turning my blue-green eyes brown. I’ve combed my hair in a more professional style. Rather than slicked back, it’s neat and parted on the side like some respectable guy with a 9 to 5.

The masks will aid us in disappearing more than any changes we’ve made.

“Boy, are we an interesting-looking trio of people,” Stitches says, laughing. “I kinda like me with this extra weight. Might keep it.”

“It’s a muscle suit. You’d have to pack it on for real,” I say.

He flexes in the reflection of the loft window. “I could hit the gym for a couple months. Pump some iron. Gains, you know?”

“You struggle picking up the gallon jugs for the water machine.”

“That’s ’cuz the handles are always slippery. You can’t blame that on me!”

Delphine smirks at us. “Hate to interrupt, boys, but we should probably get going.”

“What Miss ADA said,” Stitches says, shooting me an affronted look.

I shake my head. “Now that we’re all on the same page. We stay in contact the whole time. As soon as we locate him, we go with the course of action that applies to the situation. Then we get the hell out of there. If we get separated, we meet at the regroup spot. We’re all in on these aliases—we’ve got our names, backstories, and everything else down. Don’t offer up any information. Anybody probes or seems suspicious, you remove yourself from the situation as soon as possible. Keep your earpiece on at all times and communicate when necessary. Everybody clear?”

The other two nod.

“Good,” I say as we turn and head for the door. “Now let’s go crash this party.”

lena

august 1994

Afist poundson the door. It is not the first time, and it will not be the last.

I stay perched on the toilet seat. I spend the time counting down the minutes as I always do.

He likes to collect early, but I will not go with him. I refuse to spend a second longer out there than I have to.

The doorknob rattles and he kicks the door with his heavy boot. “Open up,puttana.”

“That is not my name,mudak!”

Our English-Italian-Russian spat makes him growl. He kicks the door again. The force behind it makes the wood shake.

I have two minutes left. I will use those two minutes doing as I please.

As he bangs on the door and yells out profanities, I get up and grab my bag off the bathroom counter.

Everything I own is in this bag.

One child-sized leather backpack that barely fits a few pairs of worn-out underwear, a hairbrush, and my wallet.

Before I came here, my wallet had things in the pouches—loose change, ID cards, even a bank card, though there were very few funds in the account.

Now, my wallet is empty except for an old, torn picture I have tucked inside a side pocket.

We are told when we are brought here that we do not have any use for the things people on the outside do. Our new belongings are at the Mill… and we are belongings too.

I set my bag on the toilet seat and then hop up on the bathroom counter. He is outside the door, distracted by his anger, taking it out with his fists. That is good for me, because he does not hear me slide the ceiling tile over and dig around for the flask the last girl hid. My heart skips a grateful beat when I find it. I take a big sip, savoring the vodka, praying that it will help with the long evening.

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