Page 111 of Jig's Last Dance

Despite everything, I am going to class. I need the normalcy of it to counteract the bullshit that’s swirling around me like a fucking guillotine ready to lop off my head.

The school is a mile down the street, and with a sigh, I close out my phone and exit the trailer. It’s quiet here this time of the morning. The air is crisp but will soon be pleasantly warm once the sun rises.

I huddle into my sweatshirt and close the door behind me, ensuring it’s locked. It was nice of Bastion to let me stay, but I can’t make him choose between his friends and me. Those people are his family. It wouldn’t be fair.

I’d like to know how Jig is, but I have no one to ask but him, and I’m afraid if I reach out, he’ll tell me to fuck off. Instead, I ignore it but for the burning feeling in my sternum, reminding me he could have died last night, and it would have been my fault.

I opened the door, and it was a really stupid thing to do.

The walk clears my head, although it does nothing for my wound, which in the light of the new day, still hurts. But it’s nothing compared to—Nope, not going there.

Shaking my head, I avoid the masses and head inside, hoping to get through class before figuring out my next steps.

John still wants me to pick up whatever for Sal. My dad wants me to keep my mouth shut, but why? Shit. It’s all so confusing.

After class, I wander aimlessly. Once again, I have nowhere to go.

My car is at the cabin, which is farther out than I can walk. I’m still caught in the game, and with no other choice, I contact Uncle Sal.

Maybe I am playing a dangerous game, but it’s not like I have a choice. What am I supposed to do? Tell Sal?

Dad, of all people, should know how that would go down.

Sal’s too busy for conversation but agrees to send a car. Once back at the mansion, I lock myself in my room. Three days until Saturday.

Are we still going? Or have they come to their senses about that, too?

At dinner time, I dress in a cute outfit and make my way downstairs. Sal is in his office, and I pause at the door.

Knowing what I do now, I can’t believe I idolized this man when all the while he was the monster I should have been afraid of. Where does this leave me?

With a lot of fear and unanswered questions.

“I don’t care. You’re getting sloppy. This isn’t a game,” he says, his back to me as he talks on the phone.

I stop outside the door and lean against the wall. It’s better than watching him like a freak. Either way, though, I’m eavesdropping.

“I want this settled. Find him. And be careful with my niece, hm? I’d hate to have to show you my disappointment.”

He must know Dad is alive, but does Dad know he’s looking for him? Why warn me away from Jig but not Sal?

Fuck, it would be nice to have some answers.

Sal sighs and rustling breaks out. I take this as my cue to move and step into the doorway. But when he glances up, I grab the doorframe and suppress a shiver.

I have to see my way clear of this because the farther in I get, the more I fear that if I don’t, I will never be free.

Whether it’s death or being his fucking slave for life, he’s not going to let me go.

“Alice, what a pleasant surprise.” He gestures to the couch, and I sit gingerly, my back ramrod straight.

His black eyes are assessing, and I smooth my fingers down my dress. What’s going on in that diabolical brain of his?

“You’ve hardly been home. How’s class?”

“It’s fine. Uncle Sal, how long do I have to deal with John?”

He cocks his head. Idly, I feel a drop of sweat slide down my spine. “John? Have you lost interest so soon? After all, it was you who couldn’t stay away.”