Page 17 of Bones
I got to my feet and the room spun, but I managed to follow her into an adjoining room I hadn’t noticed before. A large tub stood in the room on what looked like clawed feet. A crude pipe stuck out of the floor with a single spigot attached to it. She started the water and then pointed at a chipped ceramic tray beside the tub.
“There’s soap here. Mist is our soapmaker and she’s very talented. Mine is peppermint scented. There’s a towel on the hook. Your clothes are here.” She gestured at a drying rack in the corner, and I noticed, surprised, that my pants and flannel were both clean. “I couldn’t salvage your shirt,” she apologized. “But you can have the one you’re wearing.” She hesitated for a moment, studying me as I leaned on the door for support. “Do you need help?”
“I can do it,” I said stiffly, hoping I told the truth.
“Ok,” she said, but her brow furrowed. “I’ll just be in my room. If you need something, just yell.”
I managed to get myself undressed and into the tub. The ice-cold water soothed my aching body. I didn’t mind the cold. I’d spent a decent amount of time at an oasis as Juck traded with warlords. I taught myself how to swim in the cold, clear waters and tried to pretend those precious calm moments weren’t paid for in other people’s blood.
The soap smelled amazing. I scrubbed my hair and entire body twice, wincing at the disgusting color the water turned. I worked quickly, unsure of how much time I had. When I climbed out, I felt better just beingclean. I wrapped myself in the towel and hesitantly looked at my reflection in the small round mirror hanging on the wall. My face was thinner than I expected, and I grimaced at myself. My normal tan from the desert sun had faded to a sickly pale, all my freckles standing out against my skin. The angry red of the gash in my temple caught my attention, and I examined the thick scab before finally meeting my own gaze. My green eyes stared back at me, looking so damnempty.
I looked away from my eyes and down at the stitched-up gash on my shoulder. Trey’s neat stitches were still in place and thank the gods it showed no sign of infection. I steeled myself and dropped the towel lower to reveal the brand on my chest.
It’d been over two weeks, but the sight of it still made my eyes burn with tears. My fingers traced the thick, reddened skin and a traitorous tear slid down my cheek. I tried to block them out, but I couldn’t stop the horrible memories of being pinned to the ground, screaming and begging as Juck approached with the glowing red metal fencing twisted into a rough “J” shape. I would never forget the sound and the smell of the hot metal burning into my skin. Afterward, Juck had been overly attentive and gentle, like he wanted to earn back my forgiveness.
Up until I repeatedly stabbed a knife in his chest anyway.
I turned away from the mirror, swiping the tears from my face.
You can’t change what’s past, so move on,Wolf growled in my head.
My palms looked a lot better, only a few of the deeper slices remained scabbed, the rest nearly gone. The bruises on my arms and legs faded to an ugly yellow.
I pulled on my clothes, including Clarity’s revealing shirt, but I put my flannel over top and buttoned it up to my chin. The worn shirt had a big gash in it from where the roofing had cut through me, but I could mend it. I finger-combed my wet hair and left it down to dry. The thick dark brown waves had grown long, reaching past my collarbone. It looked so shiny. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been able to fully wash my hair.
“Bones?”
I jumped at Clarity’s voice.
“You doin’ ok?”
I opened the door and left the bathing room instead of answering. She smiled at me, scanning my clean appearance.
“Here, I found you some new socks.” She held out a pair of handmade knitted socks.
“What do I owe you?” I asked without taking them. Whatever she wanted in return for all of this, I just hoped I could pay it.
She looked surprised. “Nothing.”
I narrowed my eyes, confused. “What?”
“You don’t owe me anything, Bones,” she said. “I was glad to help. Especially since you saved Trey’s life.”
I shifted, trying to make sense of it. Did she think she owed me since I saved Trey? Were we even now? I tried hard to avoid owing people anything.
“Ok.” I took the socks.
“You think you can make it to the clinic ok?” she asked as I pulled on the socks and my worn boots.
I wasn’t sure how far I’d have to go or what awaited me there, but I nodded. I knew I didn’t have a choice. No matter how nicely phrased, I never got an actual choice.
* * *
Clarity led me down the rickety stairs. I had to lean on the railing, but she took slow steps, most likely for my benefit. We passed numerous scantily dressed people. Most of them stared at me with bold curiosity. A few even smiled or winked, but behind their schooled expressions, their eyes looked about as empty as mine.
The main floor of the brothel dripped in garish luxury. Painted gold trinkets covered the walls and dusty fake plants filled the room. A few worn and stained plush rugs covered the creaky wood floor. Candles dripped wax onto every surface. More half-naked people lounged on faded couches.
“We don’t open for another hour,” Clarity murmured. “I’d let you stay longer, but I need to start getting ready.”
