LIVING IN BONDAGE: Welcome To The Crime City

“FORGIVE ME, FATHER, FOR I have sinned.”

The shadow on the other side of the metal grate moved, and the priest cleared his throat. “How long has it been since your last confession?”

I had a difficult time believing he didn’t know, but he always asked that same question.

“Three weeks, give or take.”

A moment of silence passed between us, and I wondered what he was thinking. I wasn’t well versed in the practices of the church, but from what little I knew, this circumstance we found ourselves in was out of the realm of normality for both of us. He was supposed to ask me questions, I was supposed to talk about my sins, and then I’d receive my punishment. But after my first visit here, that had never been the way it went down.

“Speak freely,” the voice on the other side of the wood instructed.

He was patient with me when I didn’t obey. As usual, I never knew where to begin.

“Why don’t you tell me what brought you here,” he suggested.

My fingers moved over the weathered wood bench beneath me. This building had always felt so vast. Too quiet and holy for the likes of me. But in this booth, I was safe. The anonymity granted me the freedom to confess to someone I couldn’t see.

“Have you ever wished that something was a dream?” I asked.

The reply was somber. “Every day of my life.”

The gravity of his statement sounded like a confession, and I didn’t know what to do with it.

“I just finished another job.” My hands were wrung together in my lap. “Another con. It was a lot of money.”

The wood from his seat creaked, and I imagined him shifting, trying to process what kind of monster I was. “How did that make you feel?”

“This isn’t about my feelings.”

“Then what is it about?”

I closed my eyes, and the image came flooding back to me. My lungs burned. The landscape of my mouth turned to desert. I’d never said this part out loud before, but I needed to. Someone had to hear it.

“My sister suggested we get ice cream to celebrate. We always celebrate after a job.” I tried to will the nausea in my stomach away as I spoke. “I couldn’t even remember the last time we had ice cream together, though. She got bubblegum, her favorite. And it… it triggered something.”

“A memory?” the priest asked.

“The day I got home from juvie, I found her in the kitchen eating ice cream. I’d been gone for six months, and every day, I was sick with fear for her. She was so small. So helpless.”

I heard the priest swallow, and his voice was hoarse when he responded. “You thought it was your job to protect her?”

“It was,” I assured him. “She had nobody else. And when I walked into the kitchen that day, for a split second, she was so happy to see me that I thought everything was going to be okay. I thought he’d kept his word, and she was okay.”

“But she wasn’t?”

I looked at the floor, clutching my stomach as I recalled her eyes. For as long as I lived, I would never forget what I saw there.

“No,” I whispered. “I could see that something had changed.”

“What was it?”

“Her innocence,” I answered. “It was gone.”

“HERE.” I SHOVED A FAT wad of the twenties into the cabbie’s palm. “That’s half. I’ll give you double that if you’re here when I come back. Twenty minutes tops.”

He glanced down at the stack of cash and shrugged. “No problem, lady.”

I checked my lipstick in the mirror and swung open the door. It was a chore getting out of the cab in my fluffy white dress, but I made it work.

Outside, New York City Hall was bustling with crowds rushing to their destinations, but they all paused to look at the woman scurrying down the sidewalk in a wedding dress and cowboy boots.

I waved like a princess and even blew a few kisses to a pair of little girls with stars in their eyes. No doubt they were dreaming about their wedding someday. Hopefully, theirs would turn out better than this one.

A chivalrous stranger with dark eyes opened the door for me, and I thanked him while I rushed past, nearly colliding with my groom the moment I stepped inside.

“Graham,” I squeaked.

“Where have you been?” He glared. “You’re ten minutes late.”

I bit my tongue and smiled. This was the most charming he’d been in the past two weeks, and it only solidified my decision to play him like a fiddle.

“The bride is supposed to be late.” I offered him a wide smile. “It’s tradition.”

“Nothing about this wedding is traditional,” he muttered.

That wasn’t news to me. He couldn’t even spring for a cake or flowers, and he hadn’t invited a single family member to this shotgun wedding of ours. Yet he was deluded enough to believe I thought he loved me. The reality was that he was gunning for senator, and he needed to secure a wife for the upcoming political rallies. Family men were always more likable in the public eye.

He checked his watch and gestured for me to put my arm in his. “Come on. We’re next in line.”

I tagged along toward the courtroom where the magistrate was probably waiting. “This is all so romantic, but Graham, do you think I could have a word with you in private first? I have something I’d like to give you.”

He glanced down at the envelope in my hand, his features tightening before he smoothed them with practiced civility. He would make a good politician.

“Sure,” he said curtly. “But we’ll have to make it quick.”

I nodded and tugged on his hand, leading him into an empty vestibule that was closed off to the public.

“What are you doing?” He stared down the empty hall. “We can’t go in here; they’ll kick us out.”

“Trust me,” I whispered. “You’ll want this to be private.”

His face was a mask of irritation as he followed my lead and came to a stop around the corner. I looked up at him, mentally preparing to rip off my mask. It was always best to do it like a Band-Aid.

There was no love for me in his eyes, but even so, for a split second, I hesitated. I’d known Graham for three weeks, and in that time, he’d showered me with gifts and tokens of his appreciation. His appreciation for helping him to keep a secret he wasn’t even aware I knew. I was just the dumb baby fawn being led to slaughter in a marriage he’d never truly be happy with but hoped he’d make work by pacifying me with money.

In part, he was right about that. Because I needed the money. My little sister needed the money. I wanted to give her a better life, and I decided long ago that if fate wouldn’t give us our opportunities, I would create them.

I had to remember that when I looked at Graham, even if a small part of me hated what I was about to do. Sure, he was an asshole who thought he could buy me. I’d dealt with enough of them to know it wouldn’t break his heart when I walked away. He’d be wiser, and I’d be richer, and we’d both be winners in the end. But lately, I didn’t feel like a winner at all.

“Come on.” Graham reached for the envelope in my hands. “We’re wasting time here. Is that for me?”

His sharp words snapped me back to reality, and I narrowed my eyes. Rich men were all the same. They thought they could treat women like shit because they had fat wallets. And this was my reminder that it didn’t matter what I was going to do. Graham would pay the money to avoid the humiliation of a scandal, and it wouldn’t hurt him… much.

I handed him the envelope that felt so dirty in my hands. “This is for you, my darling.”

He didn’t spare me a second glance as he pulled out the contents of the evidence I’d gathered on him over the last three weeks. Sometimes this part of the game could be dramatic. I certainly never knew what I was going to find on a mark before I started researching him. One could only speculate, but even I wasn’t past being surprised on occasion. Everybody had a secret. And I was very good at exploiting them.

“What in the hell is this?” The color drained from Graham’s face as he looked over the photos of him with his best friend’s wife. Those had been taken just three days ago, but there were plenty of others. Clandestine meetings in motel rooms and dark corners at dinner parties. It was all there. And it was an irrefutable fact that when he agreed to wait until after marriage to consummate, he was full of shit.

“There are plenty more where those came from.” I dropped the Southern accent I’d been using since the night I’d met him. “As well as dates and times. Locations. They’re all stored in a digital file.”

“You’re blackmailing me?” His eyes widened in disbelief. “You, the dumb blonde bimbo who’s been parading around on my arm for three weeks? How the fuck did you get this? Who sent you?”

I pulled off my wig and shook out my hair with a smile. “I’m a brunette. And I’m a lot smarter than you give me credit for. I work alone, Graham.”

The veins in his neck swelled, and his face mottled with red as he realized he’d just been played by the bimbo. “You know I’m a powerful man. How can you be sure I won’t just make you disappear?”

“Because you don’t want even the scent of impropriety around you,” I answered. “The woman you were supposed to marry goes missing? It’s a problem you don’t need. Besides, I have fail-safes for such an event, and I can promise you that this information does not go missing with me. But you can make it all go away, Graham.”

His eyes pinched together, penetrating me with the resentment he’d been hiding up until this point. “What do you want?”

“One hundred thousand.”

“You must be joking,” he seethed.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

He turned away, curling his lip as his eyes fell on the picture in his hand. The lovers in the frame were lost in the throes of passion, disgracing the guest bedroom of his best friend’s summer house on the cape. I was there with him that night on the beach with his friends, regaling them with stories of my fake life. But when I snuck away and spotted them, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to snap the shot.

As I watched him now, his feelings were written all over his face. He wouldn’t betray her. He couldn’t.

“You love her,” I said, “don’t you?”

He dragged a hand through his hair and stuffed the photos back into the envelope. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll get your money if that’s what you want. It’s done.”

His answer was what I expected, but at the same time, it renewed my constant companion of hopelessness. This was a cruel world. A world where people would choose reputations over love. Dirty escapades over happiness. I never wanted to weave myself into that fabric of society again. Situations like this reminded me why it was better to be a loose thread, dangling in the wind.

I didn’t know how to love men. I only knew how to leave them, with everything I wanted.

“I’ll need it by five o clock today,” I told Graham.

And then I walked away.