Why had he locked the building?
It was never locked!
He reached inside and turned on the lights then his hand drew her inside. His fingers felt too hard, too determined and she wanted to tear herself out of his grip, try to get back out the door but she could not seem to do so.
Jack said, “Tara, you should lie down. You’ve had a trying time.”
The question came before she had time to think over speaking the words. “You came right back. If I went missing, if you were so worried about me, why not try to find me? Why not stay there until you did find me?”
He sighed, and one hand ran through his flat brown hair. “I did look for you. I tried to stay, but it is so expensive there. They charge for air, for pity’s sake! Air!”
“I know. I was scared we wouldn’t have enough credits to pay for all the things they charged for. That’s why I didn’t use the cleaning chamber alone; you joined me so we could save the extra credit.” God. They had. They had both squeezed into that tiny chamber and tried to cleanse themselves in there.
Jack stepped backward, his face—that plain and ordinary face she had thought so sweet and dear and wonderful—crinkled into hard lines. “Tara, you have obviously been through far too much, and your mind has snapped in response. You can’t…you can’t believe that I would ever do these things!”
“You did do them.” He had. She knew it now. “You insisted I close my eyes before the food came so I could be surprised. I remember it all now. We got there, and I was worried because everything incurred credits, and you said that we had to be so careful because we could enjoy the place cheaply if we just tried to have a wonderful vacation despite our not having many credits between us, but then you ordered that very expensive dinner. You did, and I didn’t understand why. It was weird, and it should have been my hint that something was wrong, very wrong.”
Jack said, “You are not yourself, and who can blame you? You have had quite the ordeal. Listen, it’s me. Of course I was worried about you. I love you. You are my fiancée.”
Her next words were brittle with fury and the certainty that had clawed its way into her and would not let go. “You sold me.”
Jack’s mouth fell open. His feet shuffled again, and his hands came up in the air. They fluttered like birds released from a cage but had no idea of how to fly then dropped to his sides. He shook his head. “You’re wrong. I would never do something like that.”
Her mouth was soured by rage and understanding. “You did. You sold me. How could you do that to me? I didn’t want to believe it; I truly didn’t. I wanted to believe that it was a mistake and that you not answering when I called was somehow… But you didn’t answer.”
Jack’s face contorted with rage. “I don’t know what it is you are accusing me of exactly but I assure you I had no part in whatever happened to you. For all I knew you ran off! In fact, I was pretty sure that was exactly what you had done! I saw how you were looking at the rich men there and when you went missing, I did report it! I did, but deep down I figured you had decided you just did not want me anymore and made off with some male who could give you a fancy life!”
Her tone was even despite everything. “How can you not understand what I am accusing you of? I stated it quite clearly. And you know what? I don’t think I am the first woman you have done this to. Where is your former fiancée Jack? The one who just walked off and left Newport City behind her without a single word? Did she get a one-way trip to a pleasure planet too? You sorry woman-selling piece of garbage!”
He rushed her. It was so unlike him, he was so meek and so mild and so unabashedly tender that his running toward her with his fists raised took her by surprise and kept her rooted in place. She realized that he was about to strike her moments before his fists fell toward her face and body.
Those balled up fists fell but never hit her. His arm was twisted up and backwards. Jack keened out a thin cry of pain but before he could scream for help, he was on the floor, face down with Blade atop him and seated on his back. A knife pressed to Jack’s neck and Tara pedaled backward, one hand still raised to try to protect herself from a blow that had been halted, and by Blade.
Blade, who just kept rescuing her.
Blade spoke in a voice both low and deadly. “What happened to the former fiancée? Tell her and tell her now.”
Jack let out a small, weak cry. The knife pressed closer into his neck, so close that thin drops of blood ran down that shining length and Tara’s hands flew to her mouth. She wanted to stop this, but part of her understood that there was no stopping it. That whatever was about to happen was going to happen no matter what she said.
Blade spoke again, “Open your mouth and tell her the truth, man. Do it now. Name names. Give me all the details.”
Jack began to sob, but there was rage rather than sorrow or shame in those sounds. He hissed out, “She’s worthless! Just like the rest! Nobody will even miss her. Her parents passed away months ago, and she’s a boring little record-keeper. She’s a low-credit earner with nobody to recommend her. She should be grateful I gave her the life I gave her before I decided to use her for my own ends!”
Maybe he was just saying those things because of the knife pressed to his throat. Tara opened her mouth to say those things but before she could, Blade said, “I know your face. I have seen you before. Tell her all of it. All of it, and I mean all of it.”
She found her voice. “He doesn’t have to. I see it all now. We never told anyone we were together. He said it was because he was in a higher position than me and that might be frowned upon. We only went out late at night when things were cheaper, and when very few people were around who might recall we were there. He set this up, didn’t he? He set me up to fall in love with him and to give him the credits I earned, and then he sold me.”
Jack writhed and kicked. Blade said, “Oh no you don’t.” He looked at Tara and said, “When was the last time you saw his parents?”
She blinked because the question was so odd. Her eyes went to the windows, and she stared at them blankly. “We don’t disturb his parents. They… They don’t like to be disturbed. We must be very quiet at all times. We must never go into the house.”
Blade hoisted Jack to his feet. He said, “Follow me.”
Tara followed him as he toted the struggling Jack out of the building that she had called home and to the back door of the abode in which his parents lived. To her horror, Blade drew his foot back and kicked open the back door with a loud crash and bang. A small sound escaped her mouth as the only protest that she could form.
Blade hauled Jack across the threshold, and she followed him inside. She stared about herself with true confusion. The room they stood in was dusty and in need of a good cleaning. It was a small back room that would be pleasant in warmer months. Its long walls full of windows overlooked the nicer section of the yard and the floor, while roughly planked, was covered by several nice rugs. Slightly ragged but decent furniture obviously intended for use in this room sat about in pleasant little groupings.
Blade walked forward, his booted foot coming up again to kick the next door open. Again she followed. Jack protested and moaned and whimpered as the knife that Blade held to his neck went deeper still, releasing more blood that ran down Jack’s neck in a slim scarlet runner.
