Tragic

"What happened to her?" I have Rook's attention now and her eyes watch me carefully even as she tries to continue hiding her face in the blanket.

"She did a lot of heroin, that's what happened to her. She wasted away to nothing just as she started to make all her dreams come true. She ruined her life, she gave it all away for drugs. She'd show up here high as f**k and I pretended not to notice because I was in denial, or too busy to see how bad it was getting, or maybe, if I'm being honest here, I just didn't give a f**k about the girl beyond sleeping with her in one of the old rooms downstairs. And three months shy of her nineteenth birthday, she was dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ronin."

"She died in one of our artistic rooms on the third floor. I fired her but I felt sorry for her after and let her stay in a room we rarely used. I found her down there, a tie-off still strangling her arm, the needle still sticking out of her vein."

I take a deep breath and then let it out and take responsibility for what I did. Maybe for the first time ever, I admit that this girl is gone because of me. "And not only did I know she was using, but I saw all the signs that she was losing. And the weight loss was the first clue. The weight loss, Rook, is the first clue in this business that something is wrong. And not just with drugs, either. With depression, and eating disorders, and all kinds of nasty things that plague people who rely on how they look to make their living.

"So that's why I check the girls every day. I'm looking to make sure that if they lose a pound or two, they gain it back pretty quick. Otherwise I start paying more attention to their habits and if I find out they're using, I fire them. That's the deal you signed on both of those contracts. I keep an eye on you for your own damn good."

I see her eyes flash, ready with the retort, but I'm way ahead of her.

"And if you think you can navigate this business alone, you're already dead, Rook. Because you can't. This business will use you up and throw you out like trash."

"So you think I'm stupid for signing Spencer's contract?"

"No, I get it. I really do. You got caught up in something bad and now you think money will save you from it ever happening again. And maybe it will, but money, from the way I see it, is the f**king cause of all the bullshit that happened to Mardee. If she had no money, she wouldn't have been able to buy drugs, or accept dates with rich losers, or sign contracts to do  p**n  and whatever else she was doing at the end. Money won't save you, Gidge. Money is a tool and nothing else."

"Maybe," she admits. "But it's better to have bad options than no options. And people won't save you either, ya know."

I shake my head and let out a long breath. "God, that is the saddest shit I've ever heard."

She looks away now, her eyes glassy with the threat of tears. "No one came to save me. No one gave a f**king shit about me and the only reason I'm still alive right now is because I got myself out. I saved me, Ronin. Me."

I get up and join her on the couch. She turns her back to me so I push the blanket away and pull the robe down to look at the painting on her back. "Did Spence tell you what he wrote?"

She shakes her head and looks over her shoulder at me. "What'd he write?"

"He wrote, I belong to Ronin and Spencer Shrike knows this."

"Oh, God!"

"It was meant for me, not you, Rook," I say, tracing the outline of the bird on her back. "He was sending me a message. We fought over Mardee. Spencer and I were best friends in high school and halfway through college, but I found out he was the one who introduced Mardee to the local scum dealers. Even though he grew up in Park Hill, he spent enough time down here with me to get to know them all. I pretty much poured all my guilt into hating him"—I stop to look Rook in the eyes—"so I could forget that it was really me who killed her. With my indifference."

She drops her head and sniffs.

"And I'd do anything to prevent that from becoming your future. But I can't stop you and honestly, I'm just a big f**king hypocrite because this is how I've made all my money too. This is how I bought into the partnership Elise and I have with Antoine. How I paid for this apartment, the cars, the truck, the bikes, the trips. I enjoy a lot of nice things in life because girls like you take off your clothes for guys like Antoine and me. So I've got no room to judge."

She sniffs again and the last thing I want is for her to feel defeated so I give her what she needs to hear right now. "But if you're going to take another contract, this body painting one with Spence is probably the best-case scenario because I know for a fact that Spencer Shrike is a good guy."

She looks over her shoulder, confused. "So you're not mad about that?"

"Fuck yes, I'm mad! But the truth is, Rook, you don't belong to me. You're free to do whatever you want. I can't stop you. I can give you my honest opinion, I can warn you when I see the dangers—but I can't make you do anything.

"And Rook, just so you know, I'm not looking for a girl to corner, or control, or use up and throw away. I've had that, I can get that anywhere. What I can't get anywhere is a partner who trusts me and loves me. So if you think I'm trying to trap you, you're wrong. I'm not interested in a girl who wants to get as far away from me as she possibly can."

She sits in our silence for whole minutes before turning her body so she can look me in the face. "I might like to belong to you, Ronin," she whispers. "Someday. But right now, I'm still running scared. A few months ago I looked at myself in the mirror and I had no idea who that girl was."