Role Play (42 page)

“
That’s more judgment, Sierra,” Martin protested.

Suddenly
my boss was rapping on the door. “Sierra! If you’re going to take a break, then take a real break. And let me know about it.”

“I
gotta go,” I told Martin.

When
I came out, Kalisha sent me down to Lingerie to help with the big sale. It was always a mess in that department when there was a sale. I almost texted Lola on the way down, but stopped myself. I needed to think this over so I didn’t piss off Lola again by interfering.

So as
I refolded undies and hung bras back on their hangers, I considered why Lola might stay away overnight. Listening to Martin had reminded me of Dick when Lola was stepping out on him
with Martin
. Now I could finally see a resemblance between the two bossy men.

It made perfect sense to
me that Lola would walk out after Martin ordered her not to talk to a friend. Maybe that friend was a new guy. I wondered if Lola had found someone she liked better, and she had spent the night with him. And now Martin was jealous.

I
always thought this thing with Martin couldn’t last long. But the photos would be on the Internet forever… stupid Lola probably never considered that.

This was exactly what
I had feared. That Lola would make a bad mistake and be out looking for a place to sleep one night.

I
found myself thinking about my old bed that I had shoved under my loft bed. Lola could sleep there, if she needed to.
If
Keith would let my sister stay with me. And if my roommates didn’t object. But how long could that last? It could only be a temporary thing. My cubicle was too small. I couldn’t live in it with Lola.

It made
me mad. I had warned Lola it would come to this if she abandoned our apartment. Instead, Lola had torpedoed our nice life together because she wanted to fuck around with a carnie for a few months.

In spite of that, e
very instinct told me to help Lola. Even though I knew it would be a terrible mistake, if the recent past was any guide.

W
orry and anger went back and forth inside of me, completely wiping out the blessed relief that had welcomed me the past few days. And that made me madder at Lola. Why did I always have to take care of my little sister? I had finally known what it felt like to let go of that responsibility, of learning to not care that I didn’t know where Lola lived or why my sister had cut me off. The only thing that mattered was my own actions. It was a relief, to be honest. Like a weight was off my shoulders.

But now Lola was back like a demanding child, dragging
everyone’s attention to her as she wrecked havoc around us. It had worked with our mom growing up. Lola made a stink whenever she could, and got the last of the energy our mom had to give. And now it was still working, as Lola got men to obsess over her. Again.

I
managed to get through the day and ran a few errands on the way home, completely unable to think about anything else, but doing my best. Like I was fighting an addiction. Or a co-dependency.

Finally, on the bus ride home,
I gave in and texted Lola:
What’s up?

I
was afraid even that was too much and that Lola would find something to hate in those two words. But there was no response from her. At first I tried to tell myself that Lola was making me wait, like she usually did. Or that her battery was dead—like it was the other night—and that’s why she wasn’t answering.

Finally
I texted Martin:
Did Lola come home?

Martin replied:
No. I haven’t heard from her. She’s not answering my calls or texts.

I
didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t good. Maybe Lola was on a bender with a new guy and would surface in a day or two. Maybe she was staying with new friends because she didn’t want to be with Martin anymore.

But as
I struggled to eat dinner and talk to my roommates like nothing was the matter, I knew there was something wrong.

As soon as the dishes were put away,
I texted my mom:
Have you talked to Lola lately?

I
hoped my mom wasn’t on shift at the grocery store because she wouldn’t be able to text back until her break. But after a few minutes, my mom replied:
Not since she asked for $500 to pay your rent.

I
felt my anger rise. My mom was implying that we both needed the money, not just Lola. I knew my mom didn’t give it to Lola—she had stopped giving my sister money over a year ago, and that’s why Dick’s help had been so critical. But the fact that Lola had tried to get it, showed me that she had made at least a little effort. From the way Lola acted, I figured she had walked away from me without a second thought.

I
hung up. I didn’t have anything to say to my mom after that. What kind of mother only texted her daughters once a month? We had practically raised ourselves because our mom was so busy with work and boyfriends. But she had shoved us out of the nest—her living room—like she was doing us a big favor.

Lola wouldn’t find much sympathy if she went looking
there.

I
couldn’t believe I had no other options. But I didn’t know any of Lola’s friends. Lola wasn’t working anywhere other than Transcendence. And the performance crew didn’t know where she was.

The only other person who knew Lola was Dick. And
I didn’t want to go there after he had been lurking around outside of Vic’s last weekend.

Then again, who was
the most likely to know what Lola was doing? If Dick was stalking me, he was still stalking Lola. At the very least, he would know where she lived. If I did have to report this to the police as a missing person, I would need Lola’s last address.

Then
I had a terrible thought—what if Martin had something to do with Lola’s disappearance? What if Martin was trying to muddy the waters to hide a crime he had committed?

I
shivered. Those ropes… if one slipped around Lola’s neck… or if Martin had gone too far…

With trembling fingers,
I texted Dick:
When was the last time you saw Lola?

Dick answered fast, like he always did.
A couple weeks. Why?

I can’t find her
, I texted back.
Do you know her address?

Dick responded:
1090 DeKalb Ave. Below Broadway. Shitty neighborhood. Don’t go there alone.

I
gave an exasperated sound—the irony of Dick giving me safety advice! The bruises on my arm had lasted for a week after he had tried to wring Lola’s address out of me. When I didn’t have it.

So
Dick must have stalked Lola to find it. He followed her home from one of Transcendence’s events, and lurked around outside watching her and Martin go inside.

With
a shudder of distaste, I texted back:
Do you know where else Lola could be staying?

No.
You should have helped me when you could. Then this would be settled already.

Dick’s response was quick.
Too quick. I went back and read our exchange from the beginning. He said he hadn’t seen Lola in a couple of weeks.

A couple of weeks… yet last weekend Dick was lurking around outside of Vic’s
place and asking me for money. Was it really possible Dick had spied on me in the past couple of weeks, but not Lola?

No, it wasn’t
possible. Dick was obsessed with Lola.

The whole text series felt wrong. Why wasn’t Dick asking more questions? All of his ot
her texts were filled with questions. And now I was telling him Lola was missing, and he had nothing to say but he hadn’t seen her and didn’t know where she was.

Now
I was really worried. I didn’t trust Dick or Martin. Either one of them could be up to something bad with Lola.

Candice
had gone to work, or I would have turned to her for common sense advice. Devi was home, but I no longer trusted Devi. Jake was next to useless for anything other than casual conversation, and I had barely met Marky so I couldn’t talk to him about this. Keith… no, I didn’t want to bring my problems back to the loft. I was here on probation—a month to month trial basis on the promise of no-drama. And if I had to let Lola stay here for a few nights, I couldn’t guarantee there would be no drama.

As scared as this was making
me, I knew calling the police wouldn’t get me anywhere. Lola was an adult who had been out of touch for only one night. They would tell me to wait and see if Lola turned up.

But what might happen in a day or two if
I waited?

I
wanted to go confront Dick and Martin, and see who was lying to me. But I wasn’t stupid. I couldn’t go alone. Both of them were dangerous.

So
I needed some dangerous backup.

Chapter 43

Vic

When
my phone lit up with the name I had been waiting to see—
Sierra—
I would have agreed to do anything she asked
.
Sierra said, “Lola is missing and I’m not sure if Dick or Martin have anything to do with it. Will you come with me to find out who’s lying to me?”

“I’ll be right there,”
I told her.

Before
I left, I dug into my toy collection and grabbed an expandable police baton. It was eight inches when closed and opened to eighteen inches. A nice hard stick might come in useful. If I had to get in a fight to prove myself to Sierra, I was up for it.

I
stuck it in my boot and pulled my jeans leg over the top so nobody could see it. Unless I needed it. Finally something I could do. Jersey was not an easy place to grow up. I had been a loner, and had to fight more than my fair share. I was used to taking whatever advantage I could whenever I had to face a pissed-off dude. Or two.

And
I was dying to make someone else pay for their sins.

I
grabbed a cab over to Sierra’s place and she was waiting on the street for me. She jumped into the cab, her hair swinging loose behind her. A heavenly smell filled the air—even the cabbie lifted face to breathe deep. It was like a burst of life had joined us.

“Thanks for coming, Vic.” Her eyes fastened on
mine, and I was immediately lost in their dark depths. “I’m not sure if we should go see Dick first or Martin.”

I
had to shake myself out of the spell of her eyes. “Where was Lola last seen?” I finally asked.

“Martin’s place.”

“Then that’s where we start. You always go back to the place where a person was last seen when you’re looking for them.”

Sierra gave
me a sideways glance. “Spoken like a true stalker.” She leaned forward and read off the address from her phone to the cabbie.

As she sat back and the cab pulled out,
I cleared my throat. “Actually, I’ve never stalked a girl. I learned that from losing my grandparents at the store when I was a little kid. If you go back to where you saw them last, you can sometimes see where they went.”

Sierra turned to
me, reaching out to touch my arm. “I’m sorry, Vic.”

I
knew it must have sounded pathetic, because it was. Nobody had ever searched the aisles looking for
me
. I had to keep an eye on them or they would leave me behind. And the two mile walk home was a killer in the winter.

“Don’t be sorry,”
I told her. “I just want you to know I’m not all bad.”

“I know,” she said simply.

I was glad to hear she wasn’t as angry at me. Maybe it was because I had helped her when she panicked in Liam’s bondage harness. If so, it had been worth the pain of watching her have a scene with Liam.

In the end, it didn’t matter what
I wanted, as long as I could help her, I felt like I was right with the world.

Maybe this was true love.
My own wishes didn’t matter anymore. I wanted what was best for Sierra.

I
took hold of her hand. I couldn’t help myself. I needed to touch her.

For a second,
I wasn’t sure if she was going to pull away. I was looking down at our hands as she glanced over at me.

Then she turned her hand under
mine, clasping it. It was so simple, but so important. I usually didn’t like to hold hands. I wasn’t used to that kind of touch. That was probably another reason I kept girls at arm’s length through my role as Victor.

But this felt so good, like a new strength was pouring into
me. As if there were two of us facing the world together.

I
didn’t want to ever lose that feeling.

The
yellow cab pulled up in front of a run-down tenement house in Bushwick, in a dicey area. The light from Broadway petered out near the front of the building, and it was nothing but trash and filthy streets. I had a hard time believing Lola lived here, but there was a white van parked in the fenced lot next to the building that looked like the one Martin had been driving the other night.