Page 186 of Spoils of war
He turned his gaze back to me, something cold and gleeful burning in his eyes. “Next time you embarrass me out there,” he said. “You won’t be walking for a week.”
I nodded, quick and small, agreeing.
The woman caught my arm, and I went with her. She brought me back to a bedroom. At least five girls were inside. Two sat cross-legged on a bed, one weaving cloth into the other’s damp hair to make curls. Another leaned over a low vanity, dabbing berry-red stain onto her lips with a fingertip. It wasn’t the room from the night before, or the same girls.
It gave me hope. If there were more than one bedroom, maybe Licia was in one of the others.
“You should rest. I’m sure you’re tired,” the woman said, her voice soft, almost motherly. Chestnut hair fell in soft, glossy waves, framing her face perfectly. She sat beside me on the edge of one of the beds and placed a light hand on my back.
“I’m Hana,” she said gently, her voice dipping low, like it was just for me. “If you need anything... come to me. Okay?”
I nodded again.
“Don’t worry,” she added. “They won’t do anything tonight. They’ll let you adjust. You can sleep.”
Before I could respond, a voice drifted from across the room.
“First night?”
A girl perched on a stool near the vanity, her bare feet tucked beneath her. She turned a small tin of kohl between her fingers, as she dipped a finger in and smeared it along her lashline.
“Poor thing,” another girl muttered. She was blonde with bruised skin beneath her powdered cheek. She sat on a bed, dipping a linen handkerchief into a glass of rose colored water and patting it over her neck. “They always look like that the first night. Like lambs bound for slaughter.”
“Or like they still think they’ll get out,” another girl added, braiding her long braid into a silk ribbon.
“You're lucky it’s slow tonight,” said the girl brushing her hair. “They’re still at the tables drinking, or gambling. You get one night to pretend it’s not real.”
Across the room, another girl hummed softly while spritzing perfume all over her.
“One night to lie to yourself,” she said.
The door opened, and a another girl stepped in, her black curls tied back with a red ribbon.
“Siena,” she called. “Fat guy’s here. Already asking for you.”
She stifled a laugh.
The blonde girl groaned. “Ugh, not him again. Last time he made me sit on his lap and sing him a lullaby.”
The room cracked with soft laughter.
“You brag,” said the perfume girl. “Beats my last one. He kept sticking his fingers down my throat, making me gag.”
“You think that’s bad?” said the girl with the braid. “At least it wasn’t ’the Hunter’. Yasmin said he want to pay extra to break her bones.”
Siena froze mid-step.
“Break her bones?” she said. “What the fuck?”
“WhereisYasmin?” the girl at the vanity asked quietly.
No one answered.
“Well, I’m just saying,” Siena said, making her way toward the door. ”If I have to do the baby voice one more time, I might actually die.”
“I hear they charge extra for that,” the girl at the door said “Last guy I had started crying halfway through.”
“Oh nooo,” said the braid girl. “You got a weeper?”
