She falters. “What?”
I make a circle with my index finger. The girl turns obediently. Her body’s nice enough—big tits and slim hips—but it doesn’t do a thing for me. I might as well be reading an article on local crime statistics. “Are you Caroline?”
“Yes.” Her answer is too swift and firm to be a lie.
“There must’ve been a mistake. I requested the girl who came here before.”
“Oh.” There is a moment of quick calculation. “Do you want to punish me for not being the one you wanted?” She gives me a coy smile, looking at me through thickly mascaraed eyelashes. “I can make it extra good for you, if you don’t make a big deal about last time.”
I watch the display, then make a snap decision. “On your hands and knees.”
Licking her lips, she does as I say.
“Crawl.”
She does, making sure to arch her back and hold my eyes to get me excited. It’s not a bad show, but I’m still not interested.
When she’s at my feet, I say, “Stop.”
She pauses.
I merely look at her. I’m seriously pissed off that this girl, who I did not ask for, was sent to appease me.
“Now I’m going to call Madame G. and tell her how disappointed I am that the girl I requested isn’t here.”
She snaps her head up. “But I’ll do anything you want. I’ll make you forget all about what didn’t happen on your birthday.” She wriggles her ass and spreads her thighs suggestively. “Please?”
“You do not possess a special magic cunt that can make me forget what happened before. All pussies are the same,” I say, intentionally crude.
“Then why do you want her?” she says. “Mine’s just as good as hers, right?”
No, not when it doesn’t do a thing for me. But I’ll be damned if I admit that to anyone, especially this girl.
“Look, she’s practically frigid. You really don’t want her. Now me…I’ll make it up to you and then some.”
The girl’s insult grates on my nerves. My birthday girl is anything but frigid…just for some reason unwilling to give in to what her body’s telling her to do. “But you’re boring.”
She pales like I just struck her. I pull out my phone to ream Madame G.
“Please, don’t call!” Caroline shrieks.
“Why shouldn’t I? I got dissatisfactory service.”
“Okay, look. I had my roommate sub for me because I couldn’t make it for your birthday.” The words tumble out in rapid succession. “Please. Madame G. doesn’t know.”
“Did your roommate know what she was signing up for?”
“Well, yeah…I sort of told her.”
I let the silence stretch. Sweat beads above Caroline’s upper lip. Her throat works, and she says, “Please. I’ll do anything. I won’t mind if you want to get rough or want to—”
I raise a finger. “What’s her name?”
“What?”
“Your roommate. Her name.”
“Annabelle.”
It’s like getting sucker punched. I inhale sharply. “What did you say?”
“Annabelle. Her name is Annabelle Key.”
Chapter Seven
Annabelle
It’s been a little over two weeks since the Friday. Caroline is sulky, and she ignores me, which is actually nice.
I applied for every server position available, no matter the pay or hours, but nobody’s called me back yet. It probably takes a while to review applications, but I’m sure I’ll get a call back. I have a lot of experience waitressing.
Since I don’t have anything in particular to do, I shred the leftover chicken thigh meat from last night for the creamy mushroom noodles Nonny loves so much. It’s almost five, and she should be home soon from band rehearsal. She plays the piccolo, and according to the teacher, she’s very talented.
By the time I toss the chicken into the mushroom sauce—made with a can of cream of mushroom soup—Nonny is home.
Mom called her an “accident” baby because Nonny was the result of failed birth control. But our parents never loved her any less for it. She was the little princess of the house until everything crashed and burned.
Looking at her bright brown eyes and flat golden-brown hair, I wish she would never let what happened to our parents affect her. She was a kid back then—and she’s still a kid, just turned fifteen—but appearing so much younger because of her round face, soft with the remnants of baby fat. She’s in a black T-shirt that reads Keep Calm and Let It Go and a pair of faded jeans that are too tight. I should get her a new pair, but money…well, lately money’s always a problem. Even with Mr. Grayson’s monthly help, it’s not enough for everything without me working.
“How was school?” I ask.
“Eh, not bad,” she says, dropping her backpack next to her chair at the dining table.
I search her face. “No trouble with the Evil Squad?” The Evil Squad is our code name for the horrible girls who pick on her.
“Not really,” she mumbles.
“Nonny, if you’re having problems, you have to let me know. I’ll talk with your teachers.” Even though she hasn’t done anything to bother them, the Evil Squad is cruel to her anyway. The school she goes to is in a poor district with more troubled teens than good ones.
“I smell something good,” Nonny says. “What’re you cooking?”
I sigh. She won’t talk about her school problems because she knows we can’t afford to move, and there’s nothing I can do except meet with her teachers. It bothers me. She should be whining about how crappy those girls are and how much she hates them. After all, she’s only fifteen. “Your favorite,” I say.
She inhales appreciatively, then smiles.
I smile back. “We should go shopping soon,” I say as I place a plate of noodles and a fork in front of her. Her portion also has all the meat…not that there’s much.
“You sure?” Her voice is small. “I thought you had to…you know.” She clears her throat. “We can wait until you have a new job. Actually we should wait until then. That way it’s a celebration, right?”
My throat closes for a moment. I wish Nonny would be just a tad selfish and obnoxious like a normal teenager. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty about how poorly I’m providing for her.
“You okay?” Nonny’s question pulls me out of my gloomy thoughts.
I paste on a smile. “Of course I’m okay. I was just thinking if we should really wait or not. You could use some new jeans.”
“Nah. These’re fine.” She shoves more pasta into her mouth. “This is great.”
I nod, unable to speak.
Even though I’ve done my best to give her the kind of normalcy any teenager needs, it isn’t enough. She was only thirteen when everything collapsed, and that’s old enough to know that something’s gone very wrong when your family suddenly has no money, people in town start saying terrible things about your parents, and when gunshots are fired in front of your house and the police couldn’t care less.