Hush - Anne Malcom Page 0,6

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.

Orion cowered away from the stain, back against the cold, hard wall, tears welling in her eyes.

Mary Lou turned from Jaclyn sharply, disgust written on her features. “Shame on you, Jaclyn,” she said quietly. “Shame on you for bringing Sarah into this.”

Jaclyn ignored her.

Mary Lou focused on Ri once more, chain clanging as she walked back toward her, as close as she could get. She sat down, cross-legged, and rested her hands in her lap. “Ignore her, dear. She’s got a bad attitude.”

“What happened to the last girl?” Orion asked, not even hearing her last statement.

Mary Lou didn’t answer.

“What do you think?” Jaclyn snapped from across the room. She was glaring at Ri now, coldly, like she hated her for speaking, for breathing.

Ri hated herself a little for breathing too.

Mary Lou’s hand reached out to Orion. “Ignore her,” she repeated.

Ri wouldn’t, of course. She was fascinated with the details of the last girl who wore her chains. She searched for words, but couldn’t find any, couldn’t figure out what she wanted to know.

“What is this place?” she finally asked, her eyes flitting from Mary Lou, to Jaclyn, and finally, to Patricia, who now trembled uncontrollably