Ri would come to learn that Jaclyn’s beauty, her presence, was not something to be envied, coveted. It meant she was the prize possession. Their favorite.
In The Cell, you didn’t want to be the favorite.
Mary Lou straightened, jutting her chin upward in a gesture that Ri recognized. April did it now and again, not really knowing she was doing it. Almost a tic for girls from families that spoiled them, pampered them, and gave them the tools to be spoiled, to look down on people whether they knew they were doing it or not.
“You will never bring me down to your level, Jaclyn,” Mary Lou said, her grip tightening ever so slightly on Ri. She found she preferred that pain as opposed to the tenderness of before. “I will always have hope.”
Jaclyn narrowed her eyes, focusing on Ri. “You want to know what happened to the last person who wore those chains, little girl?” she asked Ri, and Orion didn’t much like where she was going with it.
It hit Ri then, quickly, without mercy. The truth. The ugliness of it. These girls were familiar with their surroundings. Resigned. They’d been here long enough to figure out ways to cope.
She wasn’t stupid. She’d read stories, watched the news. Missing girls. Children. Rarely found. What was it, the first twenty-four hours? Forty-eight? They were important. Critical. You didn’t find many after that. You wouldn’t want to find many after that.
“Do you really wanna know?” Jaclyn followed up, her tone condescending.
“You shut up right now, Jaclyn,” Mary Lou snapped, voice bordering on shrill. Similar to the tone April’s mother used with her when she was being a brat.
Then again, she also shouldn’t have been sitting in a basement with a chain on her ankle.
Ri started to tremble. She didn’t want to. She wanted to lean against the wall with her arms folded, accepting of her fate like Jaclyn was. Or maybe even blindly hopeful and kind like Mary Lou.
Not shaking, with tears and snot running down her face.
But she wasn’t in control of that. She felt powerless to the realization.
So she trembled and sobbed. “Wh-where are we? What is this?” The words came out on their own, panicked.
“This is hell on earth,” Jaclyn said, not the least bit gently. “And you’re the newest resident.”
Mary Lou stood, crossing the small space between them with a purpose, right up until the chain at her ankle went rigid and stopped her a few feet shy of the girl.
Jaclyn remained leaning lazily against the wall, a sly, taunting smile on her face. Ri suspected such a face-off happened often by the look of it. How could tension not be high? Orion had shared a trailer long enough to know, close quarters with anyone will lead to conflict.
Mary Lou jabbed a finger in Jaclyn’s direction, fire in her eyes. “I swear, Jaclyn, if you don’t leave this poor girl alone—”
“You’ll what?” Jaclyn snarled, pushing off the wall and standing, the chain jangling at her feet. She tensed her shoulder, hands fisted at her sides. “She’s not the only ‘poor girl’ in this fucking place. She’s no more damned than the rest of us. Stop fucking babying her.”
Mary Lou shook her head in disappointment or anger. Orion couldn’t decipher. Maybe both. “And who was here to comfort you when you first got here? Would you rather I just fed you to the wolves?”
Jaclyn scoffed. “Newsflash, Mary Lou. The wolves have been feasting since I got here. You can’t protect me from that. Just like you can’t protect her. When the beasts are hungry, they come prowling for their hapless prey.” She rattled the chain on her ankle purposefully.
Ri saw the fire, the fury in Jaclyn’s eyes from across the dimly lit space, and she felt something that surprised her . . . pity. She imagined then, Jaclyn’s first day in The Cell, and what she must have been like. She imagined an innocent girl just like herself, slowly turned jaded over—years? Weeks? Months?—of abuse.
“And comfort?” Jaclyn asked, her eyes piercing. “Comfort? You lied to me, Mary Lou. You don’t make it any better when you pretend we’re not all going to fucking die in here. And that before we die, we’re gonna experience shit that’ll make us wish we were dead. When you spew your toxic optimism all over the place like we’re going to see our families again. Our friends. Like we’re ever gonna walk out of this fucking hellhole. Like we’re gonna ever see freedom again.” Jaclyn’s face was red, spittle flying from her lips as the words tore from them. “Get a fucking clue, girl. We’re not! This is it, Mother Mary. I’m not going to live in fucking La La Land and I’m not going to let you give this poor girl false hope.”
Jaclyn backed up to the wall and slid back down so she was sitting on the concrete again. She rested her arms on the top of her knees, and just like that, the anger in her features dissipated. The smug grin Orion would get more than used to returned. “Now leave me the fuck alone,” she said, leaning her head back against the wall and letting out a long breath. “And good luck with your new project. Hopefully she fares better than the last one did.” She nodded her head to the freshest of the crimson stains on the floor, nearest Orion’s feet.