Chapter 11
Several days later, she was still waiting for Jack's wrath fall on her for the scene outside the distribution center, but nothing had really happened yet. He was silent, although the gossips were in a tizzy about what was happening. Sarah, it seemed, had been so horrified she hadn't been able to say anything to him at all, and David and Les hadn't been seen. In a way, that made it easier for Jack to just smile, and keep selling, and none of the others seemed willing to discuss what he did at night. Except, of course, Race, who was to be heard muttering.
Nothing much changed with the girls, either. They went about their lives in the exact same way as always, slowly getting worn down, ground down, broken. Imp was nursing a nearly broken arm, and Lia had come home one night not talking, and hadn't really resumed talking since. She did her best to keep marching forward, even as she wanted to bed the others to tell Jack to go to hell. But for some reason, she couldn't manage it, and if she couldn't escape how could she demand anyone else escape?
The worst part, perhaps the most terrifying, was that she'd seen a few of the other boys in the area looking at their girlfriends with that look on their faces, the look Jack had when he looked at her. Just one or two of them, the ones she'd expect to be that way with a girl, but she didn't want to think about this spreading. It was hard, of course, because in so many ways, she felt it was her fault for being this here. She felt so guilty about it, like she'd taken, and ruined something pure, something good.
And Jack, ever the reader of people, only seemed to feed on her guilt, trapping her, catching her at odd moments and finding just the right words to make her feel less than trash, less than human, unworthy of even his time. He knew how frail she'd been when he found her, and she had no idea why he'd bothered to be kind, ever, but that reversal, his sudden cruelty was only made harder to handle because of it. She was so lost, and the world sometimes actually just spun around her as she tried to figure out how she could just get away. She was desperately wondering that, as she leaned against a wall not too far from the apartment, as the sun began to set.
"Why don't you just leave?" Race's voice came out of nowhere, as it often did, and when she turned to look at him, her heart nearly broke. There was so much betrayal in his eyes, but more than that, he looked honestly worried, about her.
"I can't. Where would I go?" Her arms crossed over her stomach, a protective gesture, her eyes dropping, afraid to keep looking at him.
"Anywhere. You've got some money, right? I've got some money. We...you and me, we could go. Run off. Anywhere. I've got an uncle in Boston, we could go there." The tone of his voice made it clear he didn't believe she would go anywhere with him, but the words just came tumbling out of his mouth.
"You'd want to help me? Get out of here? But...Whisp needs someone to watch out for her and keep Jack off her back, and Lia ain't talkin again yet, and I don't know what's wrong with her..." Her own voice trailed off, breaking a little. She wanted to leave, she did. She wanted to say yes, take me away, run off with me. But she couldn't. There was no answer that simple. She was in too deep.
"You don't want to go with me." Race's eyes closed, shaking his head, his jaw setting a bit as though he was trying to strengthen his will as he tensed muscle. "That's fine, that's all you have to say-"
"That's not it, Race. I want to go with you. I want to run. Away from this. Away from Jack. I never want to stand on the side of a street, at night, or in a bar, waitin for someone to take a shine to me again. I don't want their hands on me." She was starting to dissolve, tears building in her eyes, shoulders shaking a bit with the effort to keep them back. She wanted to reach for him, cling to him, bury her face in his chest. She wanted his arms around her, she remembered what that felt like, a memory already starting to go dim, she hadn’t realized she’d been happy then, happier than she was now, happier than she felt she’d ever be again.
"So, come with me." He took a step towards her, his hand resting on her shoulder, just softly, ready to pull away if she shrugged him off.
"I want to! But I can't. Who'll look after everyone if I go?" She finally looked back up, meeting his eyes, and as she did, the tears started falling.
"They'll look after themselves, Goldie, they always did before you got here. They'll be fine. Please." He shook his head, and seemingly without thought, pulled her into his arms. "I can't stand by and watch Jack Kelly destroy you anymore. It's killin me."
That broke her, completely, sobbing against his shoulder, clinging to him, his warmth. "I'm sorry, Race, I'm so sorry."
His pulled back, just a bit, his fingers catching her chin, tugging her face up. "Tell you what. Tomorrow morning, instead of getting my papes, I'll pack up. Meet me at that stupid statue outside the distribution center, at noon, all set to go, and we'll just go. You and me, we'll go. To Boston, or anywhere. Anywhere you wanna go."
She hesitated, afraid of it, afraid to agree to it. But she finally nodded, smiling, a watery smile. "Alright. I'll be there. Noon."
"Alright." He grinned, leaning in to kiss her, just a light peck on the lips, before backing away a bit more. "I should go...But tomorrow. Noon."
She nodded again, agreeing, "Noon." But as he walked away, she started to wonder if she could actually do it, actually leave everyone behind.