Page 39 of Rake

“Don’t worry, my big head was in most of the shot.”

It’s true, but I’d be asked later who the mystery lady was, and I’d be sure to give them the answer. Sasha may hate me for it. I don’t want her to hate me, but I can’t worry about that right now.

She’s delighted as I show her more collections, and now that her self-consciousness has worn off, she doesn’t seem to see how people are looking at her with a kind of envy. Her enthusiasm is contagious. When it’s time to leave, I’m surprised to find that I don’t want to go, but she’s tired, and I need to get her home.

Back to her monster of a father.

I bristle at the thought of him laying a hand on her.

We talk about books and history the whole ride to her house, and when we pull up to the curb, she looks at me with a reluctance that makes me hate what I’m going to do next.

“We’re having a gala on Thursday,” I say. “At the casino. You have to be there.”

“Finn, no.”

I take in breath. “It’s not a request, Sasha. I’m sorry. I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

“I won’t go,” she says. “You know I won’t.”

“You will,” I reply. “Because if you don’t, I’ll invite your brother.”

Her eyes go wide and her beautiful lips open in shock.

“He won’t go with you either!”

“He would.” That lump in my throat is back. “I’d tell him we’re going to find P.J.”

“Goddamnit, Finn. How could you do something like that? Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

“You didn’t leave my family’s business alone,” I snap. I wonder if she hears the edge of guilt, though. “And my father won’t leave you or your brother alone either.”

She looks like she’s going to cry, this time because she’s disappointed in me. I can’t handle it.

“I know you’re self-conscious about your clothes, so I want to give you some money to get something.” I pull out my wallet.

“No!” Her voice shakes with anger. “I don’t want your filthy money. I’ll go, but I’ll wear my own goddamn clothes.” She grabs for the door handle but I stop her. I just watch her for a few seconds. The bruises on her neck are obvious up close. I don’t want her father seeing them. I unwind the scarf from my neck and put it around hers.

I look at her house, and then back at her. “I didn’t want your father seeing. Your neck, I mean.”

“I don’t need your charity,” she hisses. But she doesn’t take the scarf off. I turn off the car and open her door. I know she doesn’t want anything to do with me right now, but I want her father to see me.

Benjamin pulls the door open as I walk her up the path.

“Sasha! You’re back already?”

“I am. I missed you.” She moves her hand as if to ruffle his hair but lets it fall. Doesn’t want to treat him like a little kid in front of me. She’s heard the things I’ve said and took my advice even after how I behaved. She’s someone who knows how to synthesize important ideas even from people she doesn’t like. Could I put my ego aside like that? It’s a kind of strength I don’t know that I possess.

I walk with them to the door. Her repulsive father is in his usual seat—I can see him from where I stand. He looks over at me and smirks. I stare back, icy and cold. I make sure he looks away first.

“Take care of her,” I say to Benjamin.

She bristles, but Benjamin nods.

“Call me if you need anything,” I say. “Either of you. I’ll see you on Thursday, Sasha. 7:30.”

I watch her walk inside before heading back to my car.

What have I gotten myself into? And would any of us get out of this unscathed? Probably not. Either way, after Thursday I may never see Sasha again. But I’d rather it be because she hates me for losing the union than because my father has finished the job on her or her brother. I put my car in gear, and my phone lights up. It’s the photographer from the event—he works for one of the local newspapers.

---