Skin Privilege

'No wires,' she told him. 'Satisfied?'

He shrugged, the smile making her blood freeze in her veins.

Lena started to button back her blouse, but he wouldn't let it go at that.

'You still look good.'

She couldn't get the buttons to fasten because her hands were trembling.

'You know how many nights I've jerked myself raw thinking about fucking you?'

She gave up, clasping the blouse closed. Her voice shook. 'Why have you been calling Hank?'

'Open your shirt again.'

'No.'

'Open it up and I'll tell you whatever you want to know.'

'No.'

He made to stand. 'Then call the guard, because I've got nothing else to say.'

'Ethan-'

'Hey!' he called, his loud voice echoing in the cramped room. 'Guard!'

'Shut up,' she hissed, as if she'd ever been able to stop him from doing anything.

He smiled again, that same smile he used to give before he beat the shit out of her. He pointed his finger at her, indicating that she should open her blouse.

She could barely speak. Tears blurred her vision. 'Tell me why you've been calling Hank.'

'You know the trade. Tit for tat.'

Lena glared at him, furious with him, furious with herself. He was the one in chains. He was the one bolted to the wall. Yet, she was the one who felt imprisoned.

'Open,' he coaxed.

Her hands shook as she slowly parted her blouse. She was wearing an old bra, black with lace and a clasp in the middle.

He said, 'Bra, too.'

'No.'

He knew her so well – knew when to keep pushing and when to pull back. He said, 'Spread your shoulders.'

She looked at the door, put her shoulders back like he said.

.'Jesus, you look so good.' Ethan leaned as far forward as the chains would allow. His hands were under the table, and she kept her face turned away, staring at the metal door, trying not to listen to what he was doing.

He let out a low groan as he finished. She heard him zip himself up, sit back in the chair. She pulled her blouse closed, trying not to imagine the satisfied look on his ugly face.

'Tell me something,' he said. 'Just out of curiosity, when you called your boss that morning after I left, were you sitting down or standing?'

Lena shook her head.

'Come on, baby. Sitting or standing?'

She shook her head again as the day came back to her. His hand muffling the scream in her throat as he slammed her down on the bed. Forcing back her revulsion when she kissed him good-bye and told him to have a good day at work.

Lena forced herself to speak. 'What does it matter?'

'I want to know,' he insisted. 'When you sent me into this hellhole for ten years of my life, were you sitting in the bed where I just fucked you, or were you standing beside it?'

She suppressed a shudder as his words recalled the sensation. 'You got what you wanted,' she told him, her hands steady now as she buttoned her blouse. 'Tell me why you've been trying to get in touch with Hank.'

'All right,' he said, leaning forward. 'Come here.'

She leaned forward, waited.

The smile on his face should have been her first warning, but she was still surprised when the sound of his laughter filled the room. 'You stupid bitch,' he said, shaking his head as if he could not believe how hilarious the situation was. 'Do you think I'm go

Lena was stu

He slammed his hands down on the table, the chains clanging against the steel. 'I said get the fuck out ofhere, bitch.'

Lena grabbed the records in front of her as she stood, backing up until she felt the wall behind her.

He looped his arm over the back of his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

She didn't leave. She waited, wanting to hurt him, to humiliate him, as much as she had been humiliated. 'You know what, Ethan?'

'What, baby?'

'I'm really glad I came here today.'

'Yeah?' He reached down, grabbing himself between the legs. 'Me, too, baby.'

'No.' She clutched the papers tighter to her chest as if they could serve as some sort of armor. 'See, I was really upset about something.' She paused, studying the sneer on his face, wanting to savor every moment. 'Remember when I told you that I thought I was pregnant?'

He sat up in the chair. She had his full attention now.

'I told you it was a false alarm, but it wasn't.'

His lips parted, but he didn't speak.

'And then I told you that I had to go to Macon for a refresher course for work,' she continued. 'Only, I wasn't in Macon, Ethan. I was in Atlanta.' It was her turn to smile. 'Do you know what I was doing up there, baby?'

His jaw clenched. 'You shut up.'

'Do you know what I was doing, Ethan? Honey?'

He lunged at her, the chains jerking him back against the wall. He screamed, 'I will fucking kill you,' saliva spraying from his mouth. 'You goddamn whore!' Every muscle in his body shook from the effort of pulling at the restraints. He was like a rabid pit bull, ready to choke himself to death rather than suppress the urge to attack.

Lena knocked on the door. 'Think about what I did,' she told him. 'Think about what I did to your child the next time you jerk yourself raw.'

The guard opened the door. He looked at Ethan, then Lena, obviously sensing the tension in the room. 'You finished?'

'Yeah,' Lena said, glancing back at Ethan one last time. 'I'm finished.'

Lena didn't break down until she was out of the parking lot, well on her way to the interstate. She felt disgusting from being in Ethan's presence, and like a monster for the callous way she'd spoken about their child. Leaving that room, walking down the hallway to the exit and knowing Ethan could not follow her, she had felt powerful, invincible. Then her words had come back to her, and the stupid way she had yet again let him talk her into doing exactly what he wanted made her feel raw inside.

By the time she made it back to the Elawah County limits, Lena was exhausted. Over and over again, she kept reviewing how she had played right into Ethan's hands. He had always taken a sick delight in mind games. She could picture him calling Hank with that smirk on his face, delighting in the prospect of torturing the old man. Ethan had always used other people to get to Lena, whether it was threatening Nan or trying to rile up Jeffrey. Lena wasn't even sure Hank had heard the calls on the machine. Even if he had, what the fuck did he care about Ethan Green? A couple of phone messages weren't enough to make Hank take up the needle again. There had to be something else – something Lena still wasn't seeing – and she felt in her gut that it all tied back to the drug dealer with the red swastika that she'd seen leaving Hank's house.

Hank had said that the man had killed her mother. Where had he done this? When? How?

The visit to the prison had been a waste of time. Lena had pissed away a full day tracking down a false lead when she could have been looking for information on Angela Adams. She had to find something – a birth certificate, marriage certificate, death certificate, last known address. At the very least, a Social Security number would lead to income tax information. Tax information would give an address, a place of employment – something she could use for leverage with Hank. Lena felt certain more and more that her mother was the key to all of this. Hank was spiraling out of control for a reason. If Lena knew what had really happened to her mother, why Hank had lied all those years, then she could confront him with it, make him get help. As Lena drove down the state highway leading into Reece, she started making plans.

It was time to talk to the local cops. Fuck Al Pfeiffer and his lecherous hands. Lena was no longer a cowering teenager scared of a speeding ticket. She was a detective on the Grant County Police Force. She would go to the sheriff's office first thing in the morning and demand copies of the reports in the investigation into her father's death. If Pfeiffer balked, then she would call Jeffrey and let him do the good ol' boy shuffle. If Jeffrey needed a reason for her wanting the file, she would spin him some yarn about needing closure. Since Jeffrey had married Sara again, he'd gotten enough estrogen back in his life to believe in that kind of shit.