if I’m still the girl she took in off the street and treated like a friend.
She looks away suddenly, as if having forgotten she’s supposed to hate me.
I grab the clothes she left on the chair—a pair of faded, tight jeans, a black crop top with strips criss crossing the back, panties, and socks—and make my way to the bathroom.
“You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before, sweetheart,” she calls.
I make a clucking noise, my cheeks heating.
Once I’m dressed, I head back out into the bedroom, hating the clothes as much as the uniform I had to wear at The Devil’s Den. The crop top is low in the neck, and ends high above my midriff, the jeans skintight and hanging so low on my hips that if they were any lower, the hair on my sex would be visible.
For some reason, she’s waiting for me, sitting in the chair. I suppress the urge to ask her why she’s there.
Dee’s gaze goes straight to the spider’s web cuts on my chest, which the top leaves in full view, then rakes over the marks on my stomach.
“So, Spidy’s been at it again.” She jabs at the cuts he left on my hip, visible above the waist of the jeans. I jerk at the sting. “He left better marks on you.”
Better marks on me? So just like when he tied me to that tree, he’s done this to other girls too. My nails dig into my palms.
There is the possibility it wasn’t another girl. When Spider had started using the knife on me, he’d talked about it as if he’d done it before. Death by a thousand cuts, he’d said. He could have done this to a guy, only a lot worse. Somehow, that thought doesn’t make me feel better.
Without thinking, I sit on the side of the bed to put on my sneakers.
“Ow!” As soon as my butt hits the mattress, I wince, lowering myself down more carefully.
Behind me, Dee chokes on a laugh. “Fuck. So that’s why you were screaming like a banshee all last night.”
I whip my head around to look at her. “You heard that?”
“Damn, girlie, the whole clubhouse heard it.”
“Oh, dear Lord.” I shake my head at the ceiling, feeling like my cheeks are going to melt off.
The chair creaks and then she’s standing in front of me. Her dark eyes dance with delight. “He tanned your ass good before he fucked you, didn’t he?”
I almost swallow my tongue. “That’s…” I shake my head. I’m so not having this discussion with her.
“Oh, come off it. Don’t play innocent.” The twitch of her lips makes it clear she knows she’s hit a tender spot. The vindictive light in her eyes tells me that, just like Monica, she delights in knowing that he’s hurting me.
I jerk on my shoes. Ordinarily, Dee’s position of authority would make it impossible for me to resist telling her whatever she wanted to know. The Colony programmed us to defer to those above us, with heavy repercussions for holding back the smallest thing.
“It’s none of your business what happens between Spider and me.” I’m relieved that my voice doesn’t shake.
Dee grins, holding up her hands in mock alarm. “And she comes out swinging. I knew that whole mousy thing was an act.” She crosses her arms as I go to the mirror and start raking the comb through my hair.
Dee pauses. “You must have some fucking magic pussy there, girl.”
“Excuse me?”
“He went easy on you, you know. Usually he makes his girls suck off half the club when they piss him off.”
My head jerks around before I can stop it. The words send an unpleasant jolt through me. It’s a tossup which part of what she says is worse—the part that implies Spider has a stable of willing women, or the punishment he inflicts for going against him.
Half the club? Dear Lord… I turn back to the mirror, my fingers numb so that I almost drop the comb.
Dee rocks on her heels. “So, tell me about this so-called Colony thing.”
I snap my eyes to hers, suddenly nervous.
“Rat won’t shut up about it,” she says. “Spider won’t tell the girls shit, but anything that’s got a whiff of conspiracy to it, Rat can’t resist running his mouth off.”
I consider this but give her nothing, instead finishing with my hair. It’s not just that I’ve always been nervous talking about that part of my life with anyone. I can see it in her expression; she doesn’t believe