JENNIE

..

The sound of my cell pulled me out of a dream. I resisted, Lisa's beautiful face fading as I blinked in the darkness. I grabbed the phone before the call went to voice mail. The clock on the nightstand read close to five in the morning.

"Hello?" I said, my voice gravelly with sleep.

There was a soft exhale. "You answered," she said in disbelief. "I didn't think you would. I called before and you never did. But this time . . . why didn't you answer before?"

At her distress, I curled around the phone wishing I could hug her through the device. "I wanted to."

"Then you should have."

Over the past three weeks I almost had, a number of times. The ache in my chest, which grew worse every day, had become a stab of agony. If I'd answered her calls, I would have gone back to Chicago, instead of taking care of things in Arden Hills, regardless of whether I deserved Lisa.

"I know. I wish I had. Are you all right? Did something happen?"

"I had a bad dream." She sounded so small, as though it shamed her to call for such a reason.

"Oh, Lisa. I'm so sorry." My eyes welled with tears. "What was it about?"

Another soft noise came through the receiver. Some rustling. A low thud repeated twice, a third time, a fourth. A choking noise, followed by a loud slam. The distance made me powerless. I wanted to reach through the phone and take away the pain, as she'd done for me so many times.

"Lisa?"

"Sorry." She coughed. "I dropped something."

I wasn't fooled. "Was it a nightmare?"

"I thought it was real. When I woke up I thought—" There was another low thud.

"Was it about your parents?"

"No."

"Was it about me?"

"Yes." Her voice cracked. "You were, you were, you were— Fuck!" Lisa stumbled over the words.

"It's okay, now. I'm right here. I'm right here and I'm fine. Nothing bad happened to me." I hoped if I kept talking, I could calm her. "It was just a dream."

"I couldn't get to you. You were dying and I couldn't—the bleeding, there was so much blood and you were, and you were—" She started to hyperventilate. "I was so fucking empty without you. I'm so empty." She broke then. Her words bled together, becoming nonsense. "I didn't know it was going to feel like this. I didn't know. I wouldn't have let you—I want, I want—"

I clapped a palm over my mouth to stop my sob, horrified that I'd done this to her. I thought when I left, she would see what a bad choice I was. Instead she was falling apart.

"Shh, it's okay, Lisa. I'm so sorry. I wish I was there with you," I said softly.

"Then come home," she pleaded.

"I will. Leaving you was so hard. I know I should have called and explained. But I only have a few more things to take care of."

"And then you'll come home?"

"Yes. As soon as I can." I wiped away tears with the back of my hand.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

During a long stretch of silence, I listened to her breathe.

"Jennie?"

"I'm still here."

"I—nothing is the same without you." Her breath left her in a rush. "Come home soon, okay?"

"I'm trying. It's been really complicated."

"How much longer are you going to be?" Her voice rose with panic.

"I don't know. I'd leave right now if I could—I swear it, Lisa."

"But I need you here. I miss you. I can't—" There was a pause, and when she spoke again, her tone was flat. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called."

"I'm glad you—" There was a click. "Lisa?"

The line was dead. I looked at the screen, confused as to what had happened. I pulled her up in my list of contacts. The first picture I ever took of her in my apartment appeared on the screen, the one of her feeding icing to TK. I smoothed my thumb over it. I missed TK almost as much as I missed Lisa. I hit call. It rang and went to voice mail. I tried again. This time it dumped me straight into voice mail.

"No, no, no!"

I should have told her I missed her when I had the chance. I tried again; got voice mail again. She'd given up on me. The realization made me sick as I hit redial over and over, hoping I could undo some of the harm. But it was more of the same. She didn't pick up.

"Damnit!"

I hurled my phone across the room in frustration. The second it left my fingertips, I dove after it, but it was too late. It hit the wall and clattered to the floor. I snatched it up, praying I hadn't damaged it in my moment of stupidity. The screen had spider-webbed on impact.

"Shit! No!" I punched the button violently, keying in my password, but it was no use. I couldn't get past the first screen. I threw open the door and ran down the hall to the office. I fumbled with the landline, punching in Lisa's number.

"Please, please, please, please . . . " I begged, crossing my fingers she would pick up. She didn't.

Tears blurred my vision as I tried to call my own phone. It let out a weak ring, then died.

I needed to get to Lisa. I should have tried to explain long before now, even if it didn't make any sense. She could be mad at me for having a poor excuse. Anything was better than this. Her refusal to talk to me made me hyperaware of what my silence had done to her. I'd been so caught up in what I thought I needed to resolve here, I hadn't realized the impact it would have on her.

I ran from her because I was in love with her. That, and I feared I'd never be enough. Right now, I wasn't—but staying here wasn't going to fix that. I had to get home to Lisa so I could make things right.

I ran back to my room. This house was just a holding cell of loss now; I couldn't stay here anymore. I'd have to force myself to accept that I suffered enough.

I needed to accomplish so much before I went back to Chicago, but my departure would be nothing like my arrival. I would leave on my own terms.

..

I jumped into the shower before the water had a chance to warm. I shivered my way through washing my hair and was in such a rush to get on with things that I almost forgot to rinse it. Once dressed, I pulled my hair into a wet ponytail and crammed my belongings into my suitcase. I had to sit on it to get it to close. Then I lugged it down the stairs and out to the garage.

Kai's car was full. The backseat and trunk were packed with the boxes of his belongings I intended to donate to various charities. The few things I couldn't bear to part with were in a tote box on the front passenger seat. I'd planned to drop it off at my parents' place last night, but I'd been exhausted after my visit to the cemetery.

I took a deep breath, willing myself not to break down, and took my suitcase back inside. I left it in the kitchen and grabbed my purse.

On my way out of the garage, I almost took off the passengerside mirror. At least I'd managed to leave before Chan showed up. If I was lucky, I'd be able to avoid another confrontation.

I made it to my parents' house in record time and carted the tote inside. My plan was to dump it in my old bedroom closet and deal with it later, whenever I felt capable of returning. The house was as cool inside as it was outside, so I dropped the tote in the hall and went down to the basement. The pilot light in the furnace had gone out. That wasn't the real problem, though; it was the burst pipe and the slick of ice pooled on the floor. I'd have to call in a plumber. It was barely seven in the morning, though, and I didn't have a phone. Nothing would be open until nine and I didn't have that kind of time.

I pressed my palms against my eyes, weighing my options. Arden Hills was a small town. I knew lots of people whose doors I could knock on, even at this early hour. I left the house and drove to Lake Johanna. One of my dad's old friends lived out there; he'd be able to help me. The farmhouse was as I remembered it, except the paint was faded by the sun and the porch worn down by time. The inhabitants were the same.

They invited me in, made me breakfast, and talked about the farm and their eight grandchildren as we ate. I sat there, smiling and nodding, because he'd agreed to drive out to my parents' house and fix the pipes.

My next stop was the Apple store at the Rosedale Center just outside town. Everything was going fine until I tried to pay. My Visa was declined. So was my MasterCard. I had to use the phone in the store to call the bank. My accounts had been frozen first thing this morning. Chan had to be involved; it was the only explanation.

I called my lawyer, Frank, then spent the next two hours at the bank, sorting things out. Chan had given himself signing authority over my account after he'd illegally forced me into signing the power-of-attorney papers. I was fortunate he hadn't drained the account, and that this wasn't the one with the bulk of my money. Eventually Frank worked things out, but no one could find Chan, which meant he had to know about the house sale by now.

I lost it when I got back in the car. It took me another twenty minutes to get myself under control before I could return to the Apple store to get my new phone.

Once I had it, the first thing I did was call Lisa. She still wasn't answering. I retried at every stoplight.

It was four in the afternoon by the time I finished dropping off Kai's effects at the Salvation Army. Snow had started falling earlier, and the daylight had faded to dark gray by the time I returned to what would soon become Sehun's house. My tires squeaked over the blanket of white as I pulled up to the front door.

Before I went inside, I called Frank to make sure the keys were ready to be passed over. He assured me everything was in order and promised to let me know when the key drop was official. They still hadn't found Chan, which was worrisome, but at least his car wasn't in the driveway. He'd left several messages on my phone but I hadn't checked them, knowing it wouldn't be anything I'd want to hear. I kept the car idling in the driveway since I only needed to leave my key on the kitchen table and grab my suitcase. I couldn't wait to go home.

I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. The waning sun left the main floor in gray, looming shadows. I flicked on the light and stopped short. Chan sat at the kitchen table, hands clasped on top of a stack of papers, as still as a lake at dawn.

"I didn't see your car."

His face was like stone, betraying no emotion. He didn't look at me when he replied, "I parked in the garage."

He wore a suit, but he was utterly disheveled, his tie loose, the top buttons of his shirt undone, the collar askew. Stubble covered his chin and cheeks; his hair stuck straight up at the front; and the circles under his eyes were rimmed in red.

My suitcase sat where I had left it, halfway between him and me. He swept a hand toward the bag. "Going somewhere?"

"I'm heading home," I said, my voice amazingly steady.

"To your parents' house?" His hand returned to the tabletop, smoothing over the glass surface.

"No."

"No?" He cocked his head to the side. "You've decided to stay at the main house, then?" Chan had moved there after the death of his family and had tried to make me stay there with him when I first returned. It lasted three days before I got out from under his thumb and the constant stream of antianxiety medication he snuck into my food.

"No, Chan. I'm going home. To Chicago."

"Back to the degenerate. How lovely." He smiled with malice.

I took a step closer to my bag. The fifteen feet of tile floor between me and it seemed like miles. I didn't want to get any closer to Chan than I already was. A seething undercurrent of fury lurked beneath his veneer of calm.

"I should give you some credit—you're smarter than I thought." With a sweep of his hand, he spread the stack of papers out like a card dealer. "I see you managed to have the power of attorney reversed."

My heart kicked in my chest. I'd hoped to be gone long before the papers for the house reached him. "I did what I had to do."

"I'm sure. But did you think I wouldn't find out before you left?" His voice rose, gaining momentum and volume until it was a yell. "That you could go behind my back and give the fucking house away and then run again?"

In one swift move, his chair screeched across the tile floor and he upended the table. The papers flew into the air and rained down, red ink and yellow highlighter flashing amid the white. The table landed on its side, the tempered-glass top shattering into a wave of sparkles. Chan stepped through the debris, glass crunching under his soles, hands cranked into fists as he stalked toward me. "I was still able to have your accounts frozen. I'm sure that made your escape a bit more of a challenge."

"The problem is fixed now." I stood my ground, though all I wanted to do was bolt.

He stopped right in front of me, his expression still flat. "I will undo this."

"You can't, Chan. It's out of your control. I won't give you the house so that you can destroy it. Your father wouldn't have wanted that."

"My father is dead. What he wanted doesn't matter."

"To me it does. I'm done here, Chan. I won't allow you to tear me down anymore."

I turned away; nothing good would come of this conversation. When he grabbed me, I wrenched my arm away. He came at me again and I pulled my sleeve up to my forearm, exposing the bruises he'd created during our last altercation.

"I'd advise you to keep your hands to yourself, Chan. I've already documented these with my lawyer."

"I-I didn't—"

"Sehun will have the keys to the house shortly. I'm guessing you won't try to bully him the way you've bullied me. But if you feel physical coercion is necessary, at least he's on a more level playing field. Good-bye." I stepped around him, grabbed my bag with a trembling hand, and wheeled it to the door.

Chan recovered from the shock of seeing the damage his temper had done, his response scathing. "You don't think I'll permit you to take Kai's car, do you?"

"I don't need your permission. Kai's car is mine now."

There was nothing else he could take from me. The thing he wanted had been signed over to his cousin; Frank had made sure the agreement was airtight. Chan's hands were tied and if he'd been through the documentation, he knew it.

I opened the door, ready to leave this all behind me.

"I never should have let you leave in the first place," he said.

As if the choice had been his to make? I turned, the icy wind prickling the back of my neck. "What did you say?"

"You should have been mine," he said bitterly.

Chan had always been callous, unrepentant for the hurt he inflicted on others. But in that moment the façade dropped and I saw someone crippled by narcissism.

"Is that what you thought would happen when you brought me back here?"

"I took care of you, and now you're leaving me with nothing. You owe me."

As though I were a possession to be passed along.

I left without another word. There was nothing to say.

..

About ten minutes later, Sehun called and I pulled over. The keys had changed hands. Only then did I realize I still had my set, and Chan still had his.

"Don't worry about it," Sehun said. "I'm having the locks changed this evening. With Chan you always have to stay one step ahead."

"I was never very good at that."

"Oh, I think you were better at it than you know. And you're always welcome to visit. All you have to do is call."

"Thanks, Sehun."

"Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will. You, too."

I stopped at a gas station about three hours into the drive. I was halfway to Chicago and utterly famished. For the first time in weeks, I actually had an appetite. I bought a huge bag of chips, a monster chocolate bar, and a Coke.

I called Jisoo after I gassed up to let her know I was on my way back, but she didn't pick up, so I left a voice mail and sent a text as backup. I'd given her my apartment key so she could feed TK.

I considered my options as I continued home. Lisa had a key, but she wasn't answering my calls, so that ruled her out. Besides, a conversation was waiting to happen when I saw her, and showing up in the middle of the night wouldn't make that discussion any easier. The possibility that I might not be able to right my wrongs terrified me.

Three hours later I stood outside my apartment building, buzzed Jisoo, and prayed she was home, even though her car wasn't parked in her spot. There was no response to my buzz. Maybe she was at work. I went back to Kai's car and resignedly punched The Dollhouse into the GPS. I wanted to be home, and I wanted to see TK. If I couldn't have Lisa tonight, at least I could have TK.

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of the strip club. I called Jisoo again but still got no answer, which made sense if she was waitressing. Parking in a well-lit area, I grabbed my purse and locked the car. The building was painted black, garish lights flashed out the name of the club, and a neon light showed a half-naked woman bending, standing, bending, standing, as she flickered on and off, her bare ass on display with each flip of her skirt.

I couldn't believe Jisoo worked here. But if it paid for her MBA and left her debt free after college, I could see the logic.

I headed for the entrance, a bit nervous. I scanned the lot, searching for Jisoo's car, but couldn't locate it. The staff might have separate parking, though; safer for the girls who worked there. A huge man with arms the size of my waist guarded the front door. He looked me over in a way that made me feel naked even with my hoodie. I wished I had my jacket on.

"ID." He held out a meaty palm.

I rooted around in my bag for my wallet and pulled out my driver's license. He scanned it, looked at my face, then handed it back to me. "Where's your escort?"

"Pardon?"

"Your escort," he said, annoyed. "You need a escort to come in here."

"Oh, I—" I chewed my lip, unsure how to proceed. "I have a friend who works here, her name is Jisoo."

"Jisoo, huh? So you're looking for a job?" He smiled wryly. "You're a little skinny, but that porcelain-doll thing might work for you."

He opened the door and grabbed the arm of a scantily clad woman who passed by. "This one's looking for a job. Take her to the boss lady."

The woman looked at me, laughed, and turned back to him. "Are you serious?"

"Says she knows Jisoo."

I thought to correct him, but if it got me in, I'd take it. All I needed was to get my key and I'd be on my way.

She gave me a doubtful look and turned back to the bouncer. "You're wasting everyone's time. She wouldn't last a shift." With a look of exasperation, she motioned for me to follow her.

I trailed behind her as we skirted the perimeter of the club, taking in all the men in business suits, seated close to the main stage. Toward the back of the club were two smaller stages, cordoned off with red-velvet rope. On either side were plush couches where men in suits lounged while dancers writhed in their laps.

I didn't want to think about Lisa with her hands all over any of these women, or vice versa. I wondered if money had ever been exchanged on her part. The thought sickened me.

"So you know Jisoo?" she asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Yeah."

"You tell that bitch she needs to stay away from my clients." She flipped her bleached hair over her shoulder. "Otherwise I'm going to mess up that pretty face of hers. Wait here," she ordered.

"Is she work—"

She slipped through a door guarded by another heavily muscled man before I could finish the sentence.

"Hey," I shouted to him over the pounding music, my uneasy feeling growing. "I'm looking for my friend Jisoo. She works here."

He tapped his ear and mouthed, "I can't hear you." Then he went back to staring menacingly at the crowd.

Frustrated, I turned to look for her. The interior of the club was painted midnight black, casting shadows over the clientele. I searched for Jisoo, but couldn't locate her through the flicker of strobe lights. Tables full of men watched a naked woman gyrating on a pole, their eyes straying only when a mostly undressed waitress passed by. I hated that my friend waitressed here, and that Lisa had once been immersed in this lifestyle.

The door beside the bouncer slammed opened and Irene appeared in all her red-patent-leather glory. The dress she wore was suctioned to her body. Her fake breasts were pushed up so high they looked like flesh-colored grapes ready to burst. Marks were on her arms, as if someone had been holding on to her hard, and one of her cheeks was bright red. A man dressed just like the one guarding the door came out behind her, adjusting his belt.

She snapped at the security guard, clearly put out. He motioned to the front; I saw Jisoo's name form on his lips; then he gestured to me. Irene glanced at me and hatred flashed across her face, before she recovered her composure and a grin distorted her mouth.

I was confused. Lisa had said Irene used to dance here. But as I saw the way everyone deferred to her, I realized she'd failed to fill in the rest of the blanks. Despite what her state of undress suggested, Irene wasn't a stripper anymore; she was in charge of this club. And I was in a bad spot.

"Well, isn't this a surprise," she purred. She sauntered over to the bar and leaned on the brass rail, eyes fixed on me. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for—"

Her fake smile dropped and she cut me off. "Oh, I know exactly who you're looking for. I told Lisa she'd get bored. I told her you wouldn't be able to handle her, and she didn't listen." She towered over me in her absurd heels. "She's so fucking pathetic. Always thinking she can be better than she is, but we both know that isn't true—don't we?"

"I-I don't—" I was stunned. Lisa'd told me that her life was different, that she was different, prior to me, but I hadn't imagined anything like this.

"I-I don't. I-I," she mocked. "You're a waste of her time. Did you come here thinking I might give you some pointers on how to keep her interested?" She sounded bitter. "I can save you the trouble, sweetheart. There's nothing you can do. Lisa likes to keep her options open. She'll never be satisfied with you; it's just a matter of time before she comes running back to me."

It had been a long, difficult day and my nerves were already frayed. This was not what I needed. If I let my emotions get the better of me in front of her, I was liable to lose it.

"I shouldn't have come here," I said, backing up. "I'll go."

Irene stepped to the side, trapping me between the bar and the wall. "You sure you don't want to have a look around? See what it's going to take to keep her for a while longer?"

"I should just leave." I swallowed hard as she came closer, penning me in.

She tilted her head to the side. "I don't get it. What does she see in you? Look at you." She picked up my ponytail and wrinkled her nose, then dragged a fake nail down my cheek.

I jerked my head away. "Don't touch me."

She caught me by the chin, holding on hard. We were in the shadows, covered by her entourage of security. She leaned in close, her mouth beside my ear. "You think you know Lisa, but you don't. When I discovered her, she was busy fucking her way through the girls in this club. Everybody wanted her and I was the only one she came back to, over and over again. I gave her what she needed, any way she needed it. You know what's going to happen when you can't keep up? She's going to come back to me. She always does."

"Let go of me." I pulled at her hand.

Her grip tightened, nails digging into my skin. "I'm feeling generous, so I'll give you a little tip. If Lisa starts to wander, there's one sure way to get her attention. Do you want to know what it is?"

When I didn't react, she said, "Just fuck Jackson. That's what I did when I found Lisa fucking three other girls at the same time." Irene let go of my face and stepped back. "Oh, you look shocked. You poor little thing. Didn't she tell you about that?"

"You manipulative whore," I whispered, stepping away from her.

"What did you just call me?"

I should have expected the backhand. I was a second too late when I raised my arm to deflect it, although I prevented the full force of the hit. As her nails raked across my cheek, my elbow connected with her nose. There was a satisfying crunch; she screeched an expletive and shoved me; and I went down. Unable to brace for the impact, I landed on my tailbone and my head smacked the black tile, starbursts obscuring my vision and sharp pain shooting through my hip. Her security detail intervened as she came after me again; a massive arm wrapped around her waist and hoisted her in the air as she kicked and screamed obscenities.

"Put me down! I'm going to fuck that bitch up!" Blood ran down her mouth and chin, dripping on her plastic dress. She was hauled back through the door she'd come out of, the security guy struggling to keep a solid grip on her.

I pushed up on weak arms. My hip was screaming; my head didn't feel much better. I gathered the scattered items on the floor and shoved them back in my purse, checking for my keys and wallet. Both were there. I could sense eyes on me even though the music was blaring and the girl on the stage was still gyrating away. If I weren't so focused on the pain in my body I would have been mortified.

I had to use the brass rail along the bar to pull myself up. It hurt so much, I tasted bile in the back of my throat. I looked around, searching for the exit.

When I finally found it, the bouncer who'd let me in was heading my way, eyes narrowed, hands clenched into fists. I looked around for another way out, but the emergency exit sign was all the way across the club.

I'd never make it.

..

..

..