Every Shattered Thing (Come Alive) (19 page)

His laugh is throaty and vindictive and I fight the urge to walk over and kick him in the balls. Questions start flooding my mind.

Who is Kristi? Does Marisol’s dad play poker with the guys? Did dad suggest Marisol be used as
collateral? It sounds like him..is this his new ploy? Beat a guy out of everything he owns and then buy his
daughter off him?

“There’s one way you could get out, you know.”

Her breath catches. “How? I’d do anything...please. Just let me know. Could I get another job? A real one? I’d give you every paycheck. I wouldn’t take a cent.”

He laughs again and clears his throat. “Really? Another job? Baby, you’re not gonna have enough time for another job. But, you could introduce me to one of your cheerleading friends. Or all of them, for that matter. Could you even imagine what we could do if we had them on our team?”

“I don’t understand...you already have all of us bribing the football players...”

“Oh, Mari. Football players are a far cry from who I have waiting for you.”

“You’re such a dick.”

I smile at the tone in her voice.
She’s a fighter, that’s for sure.
It makes me wonder how long this has been going on—how long she’s dealt with last-minute schedule changes and feeling like she’s playing a game with reality. I hear footsteps and turn around. It’s just a freshman, but I know this isn’t a conversation he needs or wants to hear. He passes me, completely oblivious, pressing keys on his phone.

He doesn’t even see Marisol when he walks by her.

Marisol starts to cry. “Listen. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve just...
you
know ...
gotten around by doing other things. I’ve gotten my friends involved. One of them was even raped at a party...none of it would have happened if they didn’t know me. Please don’t make me do this.” She grows quiet and I hear shuffling and Marisol quietly protesting. Chancing another look, I see the man pushed up against Marisol, her hands scratching at the wall and her eyes wild. His hand cups her face and his mouth is inches from her ear.

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. You have no choice. Inexperienced just makes you more valuable, sweetheart. You have no idea how many men would fight for a chance with you. And once they find out you’re fresh, well...there’s no way I’m letting you go, now. Get it through your head, baby.” He let’s go of her and she rubs her jaw where his hand left a mark.

“Now remember what we talked about: why am I picking you up?”

Her voice is shaky. "You’re my uncle. My dad’s brother. You’re picking me up because my dad’s at work and my mom’s sick and I have a doctor’s appointment.”

The man sniffs. “Perfect. I’ll be here tomorrow around 10:30. You better be here. Sam doesn’t enjoy being stood up.” I hear his boots crash against the linoleum floor away from me, Marisol’s tears echoing off the nearby walls.

I could walk away. I could choose to turn around and act as if I never knew, never heard my father’s name and understood that his obsession with young girls went deeper than trading his daughter for a good name with the police force.

But I don’t.

I walk over to where Marisol is sitting on the ground, her head resting on her arm.

Her head flies up before I even reach her and she sneers.

“What do you want, Tiller?”

Well that’s new.
I’ve never been called by my last name and I’m half impressed she even knows it.

I’m definitely invisible when it comes to the who’s who at the high school, but I imagine a lot of the recent recognition has to do with dating Kevin. I ignore her tone and stuff the slips of paper with students’ names long forgotten in my pocket. Sliding against the ground, I come to a rest sitting next to her. She just stares at me, an incredulous look on her face.

“Marisol...I heard everything.”

Her eyes go dark and I see her retreat inward. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She turns away from me and picks at a poster fallen to the bottom of the wall, its edges brown from time.

I respond quietly, my voice steady for the first time in weeks. “Yes, you do. You know exactly what I’m talking about —who was that man you were talking to a minute ago? Who is Kristi? And who is Sam? Why does he expect you to lie to your parents and leave town?”

She breaths in quick and wipes her cheeks, “I’m not talking to you about this.” She starts grabbing her stuff around her and I realize Joey must have found her in between passing periods, she probably hasn’t even been to class.

“You don’t have to, but—I know. I know more than you think. And...I think we could help each other.”

She laughs, a bitter and lonely laugh that eerily matches one that’s fallen from my own lips on multiple occasions. I look around and am suddenly hit with a memory. I don’t discount the fact that this situation isn’t entirely unlike when I met the mysterious girl I met outside the front of the school just six months ago. The memory enters and leaves my mind just as quickly as I breathe and I look again at Marisol.

“Listen for a second. I need you to hear me. Sam is my father. Sam Tiller. He traded me when I was twelve years old and he first got in trouble with the city police. I think he may be forming a trafficking ring of sorts through his gambling—maybe even a website? I’m not sure. There’s not many people in this town I trust. But I know what you’re feeling right now, and I know you’re not alone. I just don’t know how to stop it.”

She turns her head slowly toward me, her voice shaky. “You
bitch.
Don’t ever come near me again. You understand? This is
your
fault.”

I start to speak but she interrupts, the tears falling freely. She points her finger in my face and I see the anger in her eyes.

“No. You don’t get to talk right now. Do you know what they want me to do tomorrow night?

They’re taking me across state lines. Apparently there are clients in three states and there’s no way they can get here, so what does your dad and his posse decide to do?
They’re taking me to them.
Fuck.
Fuck.
”

Her voice is getting stronger—louder. Grabbing her things and standing up, she turns around and looks at me again, wiping at her eyes. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll kick your ass.”

She turns away, phone already out and fingers flying over the screen as she texts and makes her way to the bathroom, probably to freshen her make-up before the next class.

I glance at the clock on the wall and realize I’ve effectively spent the entire period listening to Marisol. The conversation between her and Joey fresh on my mind, I head back to the office, trying to think of a reason for why I didn’t give out all the passes still stuck in my pocket.

Chapter Seventeen

Kevin is right on time, walking through the door seconds after the bell rings.

“Did Coach let you guys out early or something? You never get here so soon after the bell.” I study his face.

“Today was just lifting. And yeah, he let us hit the showers about five minutes before he normally does.” He glances at the lady still staring from behind the bifocals and makes a face. “You ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s go. I promised Pacey I’d take him to the snow cone stand before it shuts down for the season.”

“Snow cones? It’s like...40 degrees outside.”

I shrug. “My brother is four. He’d eat ice cream in freezing weather and drink hot chocolate during the summer.”

We walk outside, dodging young freshmen girls trying to stop and gain his attention. Once we get to his truck, he opens the door for me and I climb in, slide over to the driver’s side and pop the lock before he reaches for his keys.

He opens his door and smiles. “You really are the only girl who has ever done that for me.”

“What?”

“Unlock my door. I mean, everyone always yells at the guys for not opening doors for girls; you never hear or really see a girl talking about doing something for the guys. It’s nice.”

“Well, I actually never even considered it until I started going places with Emma and Jude. He always opened doors for her, but I noticed she did things for him. Unlocked his door, unwrapped his hamburger before handing it to him if we stopped at a drive-thru—little things. But he noticed.” I look at him and smile. “I decided the least I could do was try and see if it really made that big of a difference.”

He leans over and kisses my cheek. “It does, Steph. Thank you for trying.”

I grow quiet and he looks at me.

“Is everything okay?”

I turn and glance at him and chance a smile. Fidgeting with the zipper on my jacket, I wonder how I can even begin explaining everything. “Um...not really. I overheard Marisol talking in the hall today during last period.”

“Let me guess. Was she with a guy?”

I nod. “Yeah. He wasn’t a student, though.”

He is silent for a moment, waiting for me to continue.

“His name is Joey. Plays poker with my dad. Somehow he managed to sneak onto campus and catch her between passing periods.”

I have his full attention now. “What was he doing at the school?”

“She owes him money. Well, she owes my dad money, really. Her father plays poker with the guys as well and he lost everything one night. I think my dad may have suggested Marisol as a token because he ended up trading her to Joey for collateral. He told Marisol he was coming to get her tomorrow during third—would pick her up from school as her “uncle” and then she would be taken to some clients. She told me later they’re taking her across state lines.”

“Shit.” He pulls the truck over to the side of the road and shifts into park. We sit there for a little while in the silence.

“Did you hear anything else?” Kevin whispers. His knuckles are white, his hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel.

“Um...yeah. She mentioned that somehow they’ve gotten the entire cheerleading squad involved by threatening them with pictures the guys have doctored.”

“Fuck.” Kevin hits his hands on the dashboard. “You’ve
got
to be kidding me.” He looks at me with an intensity I’ve never seen and grabs my hand. “Did she tell you what states? Think hard, Stephanie. Did she tell you what states they’re taking her to tomorrow?”

I pause and frown. “I don’t remember, Kevin—and what if I did? What would you do? Chase them down yourself? Not possible. I mean, obviously this isn’t the most glamourous situation. Obviously something needs to be done, but what? How do we stop this? It’s so above our heads—and I’m involved!”

He puts the truck back in drive and eases his way back into the lane of traffic. “We just can’t do nothing, Steph. I can’t do nothing. It’s hard enough for me not to say anything about what you deal with on a day-to-day basis and now it’s like...the entire city is involved.” He grows quiet and rubs his chin.

“Shit. There just has to be a way...”

We Pull around the corner, and I notice a black car in my driveway. My dad’s truck is missing.

My eyes drop to slits and I wrinkle my lips in confusion.

“Who’s here?” Kevin asks, pulling up to the curb and unbuckling his seatbelt.

My eyes suddenly focus in on a sticker on the back window and I pause. “CPS,” I whisper.

“CPS? What are they doing here?” Kevin makes a move to open his door and I stop him - my hand on his knee.

“Kevin, just go. I’m pretty sure my mom has already called my dad to let him know they are here, and if you are still here when he shows up, it could get pretty bad.” I drop my head and focus on my hands—my heart beating twice as fast as it was just five minutes ago. I can’t believe this is happening.

Again. I think of Pacey, alone in the house, and I gather my bags and look at Kevin.

“You want to meet tomorrow morning? At the bleachers? It’s been a while since I’ve watched the sun rise and I have a feeling I’ll need it.”

He studies my face for a few seconds before answering. “I don’t like this, Steph. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“Yes, Kevin. Go home. Don’t hide, don’t park down the street and wait. Leave. Trust me.” My eyes plead with him to believe me and he finally accepts with a nod.

“Okay,” he says. “Stephanie, be careful. Stay away from your father. Run away if you have to.

You know where I live. You’ve made it to Emma’s before.” He pierces me with his eyes. “Be safe.”

I smile, more for his benefit than mine, and step out of the truck. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I shut the door and wait on the sidewalk to make sure he turns the corner before making my way inside, hoping above all else that my home will appear somewhat normal to whoever is waiting for me.

***

“Mom? Pacey?” I holler as I walk in the door.

A woman steps around the corner. She’s wearing jeans, a t-shirt and tennis shoes. Not necessarily the professional attire I’m accustomed to seeing on CPS workers who visit our house on a routine basis.

“Hi, Stephanie. My name is Rebecca Conway. I’m with CPS. Would you mind if we talk for a little while?”

“Where’s my brother?” I push past her and make my way into the living room and I see my mom leaning against the wall, her eyes puffy, mascara streaming down her cheeks. I walk up to her and am instantly hit with the stench of stale cough syrup.

“Mom. Where’s Pacey?”

She looks at me with empty eyes and they narrow into slits—I step back, surprised at her breadth of emotion.

“They took him. You said something, didn’t you? You just can’t keep your damn mouth shut, can you? You’re a sorry excuse for a daughter, you know that? You keep spreading lies about our family, making it hard for us to do anything worthwhile for each other...was it the teacher again? Tell her to stop rubbing her nose in our business. Tell her if she knows what’s good for her...”

I clench my fists to keep from slapping her and I take a deep breath and interrupt before she says something that makes it worse for all of us. “Mom. What do you mean, 'they took Pacey’. Who did?

Where is he?”

And then I hear him, crying in the next room. I start to walk down the hallway before Rebecca steps in front of me.