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The HUSH Series: (HUSH, HUSHED and JANE.)

Page 11

by Sandra Raine


  I could've slept for eternity for all I cared, I mean, if it meant I didn't have to get up and face the cruel harsh world of Dominic and Tanya. I picked up my backpack from off the recliner sitting across from the cot. I strolled lazily out of the room, thanking Miss Walker as I walked to the door.

  "You remind me so much of your friend Tanya Ray and this one other girl named Chloe Reynolds." Miss Walker commented casually.

  "Excuse me?" I said suddenly raising a questionable eyebrow. "Tanya Ray?"

  Miss Walker stiffened a nod. "Sometimes they would be in here complaining about being tired, not having enough strength to do anything but sleep. Kind of like you," she evaluated nonchalantly as she rose from her desk and stepped toward one of the two filing cabinets situated at the opposite end of her desk. She pulled one of the drawers open and began rummaging through it.

  I realized my mouth was open, but nothing escaped me; not even a breath of air. It was as if I had been suspended in time that is until Miss Walker glanced my way and thawed me out with an amusing look.

  "Um. . .who's Chloe Reynolds?"

  "She used to be a student here."

  "Um. . .when? I mean. . .how long ago?"

  "Last year. She would've been a Sophomore this year."

  "What do you mean 'would've been' - " and right at that moment the bell rang. I jerked with Miss Walker pointing toward the door.

  Chapter 19

  I was anxious to get home. And it seemed like I couldn't make 6th period move fast enough. I found I couldn't stop glancing at the clock, too. And it also seemed like my History teacher Mrs. Barrett was instructing class in ultra-slow motion that I couldn't understand a darn thing she was saying.

  When the bell finally rang, I was the first to head out the classroom door. I rushed to my street locker, tossing books in, taking books out. I then slammed my locker shut and made a mad dash out to the school's parking lot and waited anxiously by Dominic's Hummer. When I saw no sign of either Dominic or Tanya anywhere near or around the parking lot I began to worry.

  Then. . .

  "What's with you?" Tanya suddenly complained in her ultra-snobbish tone. I quickly spun around startled just as she was peeking from around the back of Dominic's Hummer.

  "No. . .um. . .nothing," I retorted while trying to keep a straight face.

  "Ugh! Why aren't you in uniform?" She groveled.

  "What? Uniform?" I repeated.

  "Jesus, Jane!" Tanya bellowed, shoving my gym bag into my arms. "We have practice today," she then reminded me. And tomorrow. And the day after that. And so on, and so on. Yadda. Yadda. Yadda!" She slammed the cargo door shut and tossed her gym bag over her stern shoulder.

  "I. . .uh. . .I forgot," I staggered to apologize.

  Tanya rolled her eyes. "Whatever!" she sassed, shoving past me and heading toward the gym without me. I meant to follow but I was too disillusioned to move. I mean, I just wanted to go home.

  After a minute, after Tanya finally emerged from her walking cocoon of egocentricity, she made it a priority to turn around and acknowledge me. But when she saw I hadn't been there walking all along behind her, she immediately stopped walking and shot me an icy stare instead.

  "Well c'mon, Jane. You're going to make me late!"

  It took me a good minute to come to the absolute conclusion that I wasn't going home as I had originally anticipated. So I sucked back my disappointment and took a hesitant step forward and followed Tanya to the gym.

  I was forced to change in one of the gym's private dressing rooms just to avoid having to explain the welts embedded on the majority of my body. I was also forced to wear extra clothing to conceal those welts which included a white long sleeved body suit and white spandex tights. Luckily for me it was chilly out so I had an excuse for looking warm.

  Practice was a real pain, literally. 'Cause not only did it involve leg, arm and body work, it required opening my legs and working my butt muscles which actually brought strained tears to my eyes. But God forbid I should cry in front of the other cheer-bitches including Tanya 'cause I wouldn't hear the end of it. And besides, with kicking Toni's ass and all I had an image to uphold.

  During practice I spotted Dominic across the field doing what he did second best: playing Quarterback while in his spare time playing P-I-M-P, and may I add, quite proudly. God, he was pathetic! But then I found myself suddenly wondering how everyone, meaning, the ones that idolized him, now meaning, the entire school. . .How would they feel if they found out about Dominic's dirty little secret? Would the entire school body be disgusted, or be in awe? I mean, and seriously, The Quarterback. . .a Pimp? They probably wouldn't believe it even if it was in the news, or on some TV docu-drama. And then I started to wonder about me, about how they would feel if they learned how I was a part of that dirty little secret and with a good time porn movie to accompany? Would the entire student body be disgusted, or would they be in shock?

  Practice was finally over.

  Tanya and I waited patiently for Dominic back at the parking lot with Tanya sipping on her third V8.

  "Want some?" She offered with a playful tilt of her V8 can. I shook my head. "You did good today." she then commented in her ultra-affable tone. I guess her "hangover" must've passed.

  Tanya, too, was just as equally pathetic as Dominic with her rich-bitch-little-miss-perfect-façade which also made me wonder how the student body would react if they knew about Tanya's pivotal part-time role in Dominic's dirty little secret? I mean, and seriously, The Cheer-Captain a Pimpette? Shit! They probably wouldn't have believed that either!

  Dominic finally arrived and unlocked the doors to his Hummer. Tanya quickly slid into her seat leaving Dominic to open the back door for me, something he rarely did.

  "Nice tights," he mused. I ignored Dominic and slid into my seat which was always behind Tanya's, yet caddy corner to Dominic - the awkward seating arrangement wasn't my idea, it was Dominic's. I figured it was another form of control. . .control over my expressions, my legible thoughts. . .my every move.

  But today, and much much to my anxiety, Dominic bypassed driving me home and drove me to his house instead. Then my stomach churned in nervous knots as soon as I spotted Justin leaning up against his car on the driveway. I quickly shot Dominic a fretful look through the rearview mirror, and to my surprise, he looked at me insensitively, and then I realized why I was here at his house and not mine - he had plans for me.

  Dominic and Justin shook hands and bumped knuckles as if they hadn't seen each other in months. Tanya wasted no time heading into the house leaving me standing there beside Dominic's Hummer like some bad date. Then I took a deep unsteady breath and then another when Dominic finally glanced my way before crossing to me.

  "Ready to go?" he said suddenly.

  "Um. . .yeah. Where?" I mustered, twirling my fingers anxiously while my feet bounced from one foot to another; a clear sign that I was worried and scared as hell 'cause a great part of me already knew that Dominic wasn't referring to my house.

  "Does it matter!?" Dominic then sassed stepping around me toward the driver's side of his Hummer.

  I gathered up my rattled nerves and hesitantly turned around to take my seat back in the Hummer but I bumped into Justin instead loosing my balance. I then took an abrupt step back when Justin let go of my hand.

  "Nice tights." he, too, mused, reaching for the back door and holding it open for me. I get in feeling more terrified than before.

  Once we hit the main street, Dominic took a left turn as opposed to a right turn. I unnervingly bit down on my lower lip 'cause we were headed toward Phoenix.

  During the drive I prayed for a miracle, an accident, for Dominic to get pulled over by the cops just to avoid the inevitable as we drove past homes, apartments, strip malls, motels, parks and so on. It wasn't until thirty-five minutes into the drive when Dominic finally pulled his Hummer onto the parking lot of a rather extravagant looking and upscale massage parlor complete with valet parking had my nerves began to really
tighten.

  An attendant, a young Chinese woman possibly in her early twenties, immediately stepped to the Hummer and opened Justin's door and bowed the moment Justin emerged. Justin nodded his appreciation and strolled briskly past her. I then watched as he strolled past another bowing attendant, and through another door being held open just for him. Justin then disappeared inside.

  "Stop staring, Diamond." Dominic scolded me. But just as I was in the midst of settling my gaze onto my lap I instead settled my gaze onto Dominic through the rearview mirror. I mean, and instead of Dominic calling me Jane he instead called me "Diamond". Dominic said nothing in regards to my questionable stare for about a good solid minute. And I must've sparked some sort of pressure to respond 'cause he finally spoke up.

  "It's a small job," he said casually like if something good was about to come out of it. "I know you have to get home," he then acknowledged as if that was supposed to be comforting to my discomfort. I grasped my stomach and tried to comfort the pain that awaited me. I meant to bow my head and sulk in shame but my door unexpectedly opened with Justin grabbing my arm. He quickly ushers me off the Hummer, slamming the door behind us. And I don't know why, or what possessed me to, but I shot Dominic an implausible stare and he stared back in the same fashion. I'm sure he must've glimpsed the fear in my eyes and the shame cloaked around my body particularly as Justin pulled me further and further from him, from us.

  Dominic then drove away the least bit contended.

  "C'mon. C'mon." Justin snapped at me. His breath was a tad restless, too. I figured he was tired from all his yanking on me 'cause my body refused to oblige him and move on its own.

  The door to the parlor opened again, and Justin and I walked through and into a lobby drenched in colors of deep reds, bright gold's and bold blacks. There were red carpeted benches, a couple of oversize loveseats in red felt velvet and a Bonsai scenic waterfall as tall as the twenty foot ceilings holding up the elusive building.

  Just beyond the waterfall is another lobby. And it was just as equally extravagant to the main one. But in this particular lobby there weren't deep reds, bright gold's, or bold blacks there was instead several men sitting around the room, some reading magazines, others tinkering with their cell phones. My eyes instantly counted seven men all dressed in suits - men of power, men with money which explained all the fancy cars sitting undisturbed in the parking lot.

  Justin quickly positioned me in the center of the room. And suddenly I felt like a sheep amidst the wolves. I sensed Justin did this so the men could get a better look at me, and from all angles particularly when he placed both hands against the sides of my shoulders and maneuvered me around the room in slow circular motions. I tried hard not to look at the men directly. Every second or so my gaze would falter to the red carpet, and every second or so Justin would quietly grunt that I keep my head high and smile, or else.

  After the final turn, after the men had their fill of sizing me up from top to bottom, a man in his early forties, I presumed, rose to his feet and nodded at Justin. Money was immediately exchanged with Justin giving me a soft shove in his direction. I apprehensively glanced up at the man: He was tall, firmly built and fairly handsome with calm hazel eyes. The man slid an arm around my petite waist and my body tensed. He then ushered me toward a string of red and gold beads, and just beyond those beads, a long hall smelling of calming incense. There were closed doors to my right and to my left; I inevitably disappeared behind one of them.

  Chapter 20

  Justin and I emerged from the parlor two and a half hours later with Dominic already waiting for us in the parking lot.

  I was in desperate need of a shower. The stench of filthy rich "child-raping" men still lingered within my pores. And the dissimilar scents of pricey colognes intertwined with my sex and their semen caused my head to spin, my stomach to turn. The bile continued to rise in my throat, and there it stood idle, like me.

  I would occasionally glimpse Dominic staring at me through the rearview mirror from the corner of my eye with an expression neither angered nor content but what seemed more on the curious side. As for Justin, I would occasionally grasp his reflection through the window reflecting off the sun; he was counting a stack of money.

  Back on Dominic's driveway a different tune had settled within the cab of the Hummer which was the ruffling sound of money. And my heart could not help but to break like it had never broken before.

  "Your half." Justin then said handing Dominic a large wad of money. He nodded, and the two parted ways with Justin stepping off the Hummer and stepping into his Mercedes where he then sped off into the fucking sunset while I wished he would speed straight into Hell. Dominic shoved the cash into his letterman's jacket and cranked the engine back over, and we, too, sped off only I wasn't going toward the sunset, or Hell, I was going home.

  Dominic parked a few inches shy from the entrance of the driveway to my house. He then left the Hummer idling while I gathered up my belongings before getting off. But today wasn't the case. Dominic instead turned around in his seat and stared wearily into my eyes as my eyes stared startled into his. The tension between us then shifted from somber to tense.

  "The parlor," Dominic grunted. "Why were you looking at me like that for?" Suddenly I didn't know what to say, or how to answer that very question? I mean, I was totally taken back by Dominic's concern since he stopped being concerned when he turned me into his whore. I mean, I was flattered and floored at the same time.

  "Speak goddamn it!?" Dominic impatiently spat.

  "I. . .I guess. . .I mean. . .I. . .I - "

  "Jesus fucking Christ, Jane! Can't you answer a question without babbling like a freaking child!?"

  "I wanted to make sure you weren't leaving! There!" I blurted. I lied. Or did I?

  The crease above Dominic's forehead scrunched. Suddenly he looked confused. As for me, sudden tears of anger clung desperately to my baby brown irises. The sub-conscious of my mind had surprisingly reared its ugly head in a manner that not only angered me, it caused me grief, regret. I mean, could it be that my biggest fear wasn't the men paying to have sex with me but of Dominic leaving me in their presence unaccompanied, vulnerable and alone? Was my fearing of his absence a form of unconditional protection rather than elation? Was I just only now beginning to comprehend that while Dominic was my pimp, "my Daddy", sort-of-speak, he was also my family and a sovereign lawman enveloped within the fists of fear, discipline, nurturing and love since he was the only one capable of doing what other men were not permitted to do to me simply because I allowed it? So having figured that, and with myself not entirely suppressed under Dominic's ever watchful eye, why haven't I said anything to anybody, to my parents, to my brother Doug? Why haven't I picked up the phone and called the police, the FBI, the CIA, Miss Walker? I mean, what was I waiting for? I mean, surely Dominic did not mean what he said about killing my family, or exposing that porn video to everyone at school, did he? And maybe, just maybe, it was all just a bluff with him waiting for me to call his bluff?

  "It's getting late, Jane," Dominic said pulling me from my thoughts and turning back around in his seat. He placed both hands over the steering wheel and waited for me to get off.

  I was glad to find the house empty but I knew it was just a matter of time before my parents and Bree showed up from wherever they were.

  I ran upstairs and took a quick shower. Afterwards, I applied some foundation to my still existing bruises prior to heading downstairs. I then rushed into the laundry room and threw my cheer outfit into the washer to wash away the evidence of the men who reeked all over it. I rushed back upstairs and sat at my computer and Google'd Chloe Reynolds only to find nothing resembling a fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl. I clicked back to the search bar and keyed in CHLOE REYNOLDS, 15-YEARS-OLD, ARIZONA and hit the search button. Threads and threads of information popped up but nothing worth prying into. I could feel my eyes starting to grow heavy after staring at one thread after another in search of any info regard
ing Chloe Reynolds but to no luck. I eventually gave up and headed back downstairs toward the commotion in the kitchen.

  "Hey, sweetie," my mother cheerfully greeted just as I was walking into the kitchen. She was putting groceries away.

  "Hey," I mumbled, fumbling with the backs of both my jean pockets nervously. "Need any help?"

  "No. I got it. Thanks." My mother said settling some lunch meat into the containers in the fridge.

  "So. . .um. . .what's for dinner?" I wasn't hungry but I made an attempt to sound hungry.

  "Are you going to have dinner with us tonight?"

  "What does that mean?"

  My mother halted amidst the open fridge doors and shot me a contemplating look. "It means you haven't had dinner with us in days. You're always tired, remember?"

  I shifted uncomfortably in my stance. "But I'm not today," I lied.

  My mother's smile broadened. "Good," she said, and continued putting the groceries away. "How's school coming along?" She then asked after a lingering, yet strenuous minute.

  "Good." Another lie.

  "And your new friends, Tanya and her brother, Dominic? How have they been treating you?"

  "Couldn't be better." And another.

  "Well I'm glad things are going well with you, sweetie," my mother then praised, sounding somewhat elated, too. She closed the fridge doors and tossed the plastic grocery bags into the trash. "I'll call you when dinner's ready, okay?" She tapped me on the shoulder and strolled past me toward the direction of the formal dining room.

  Nine o'clock was just around the corner again. And those never ending nerves in my stomach continued to grow more intense every passing second like they tended to do every night nine o'clock rolled around.

  I slipped into a plain black halter dress and silver ballet flats. I styled my hair into a ponytail and added a little mascara to my lashes and red gloss to my lips. Unfortunately I was ready.

  At exactly nine my "work" cell rang and I quickly picked up before the first ring even ended.

 

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