When I still didn’t say anything, she drew back and tried to smile. “I think I know what will make you feel better.” Dolly got to her feet and rushed to her mama’s old pink boombox on her desk. She switched it on and began to dance.
And I watched her. I never took my eyes away from her as she swayed and mouthed the words to the song. She smiled as she danced . . . then another memory came into my head. Words she’d once told me as we lay out on her picnic blanket one summer’s afternoon.
I always dance for my papa and my uncles. They love to watch me dance. I do it a lot . . . they love it . . . they always ask me . . .
“Stop,” I said under my breath, but Dolly didn’t hear me. She closed her eyes and raised her hands up in the air as she kept dancing. “Stop!” I said louder, but she still didn’t hear. “Fucking stop!” I eventually screamed, loud enough that my voice cut through the music and my anger filled the air.
Dolly stopped dead and stared at me with huge blue eyes. “Rabbit?” she whispered, and her bottom lip trembled again.
“Turn off the fucking music!” I snapped. Dolly did as I commanded, with her head dropped and her face all sad. She turned, shy and nervous, and I eventually managed to hold out my hand. She clutched her doll to her chest like a shield, but she came forward anyway. When she was within reaching distance, I grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit next to me. “No more dancing.”
“Why?” She blinked her long lashes. “I love to dance.”
“No more dancing for your papa and uncles,” I said more firmly, and Dolly shook her head. “Promise me.”
Dolly paused. “Can . . . can I still dance for you?”
I felt that strange feeling in my chest again. The one I had only ever felt around her. The one where my heart squeezed and my throat got really tight. “You can dance for me. But only for me.”
“Okay.” She played nervously with her hands in her lap.
I glanced down at my watch on the floor. “I want to protect you,” I said, and Dolly looked up. I picked the watch up in my bloodied hand. “I want to keep you safe.”
“From what?”
“Bad people,” I replied. Dolly looked down at her doll, then nodded her head. Like she understood.
She always understood me.
But she had no idea of the danger she was in inside this house.
Dolly held her doll tighter. “Rabbit?” she whispered. I looked at her. She was so pretty. “Are you sad now? My heart is telling me you’re very sad.”
I went to shake my head. Went to say no, but when I opened my mouth, I nodded and automatically whispered back, “Yes.”
Tears built in Dolly’s eyes, and she lurched forward and threw her arms around my neck. We never hugged. At least I never hugged her back—she always hugged me. But today I let her hold me for longer than normal. I let her hold on. I didn’t push her away as I normally would when I couldn’t stand to be touched anymore.
I wanted her touch to replace theirs.
“You smell strange,” she said against my neck. “You smell of smoke . . . like my uncles and papa smell.” I closed my eyes and thought of my watch, thought of focusing on the hands moving around the face while it all happened. “I really wish we could escape to Wonderland right now, Rabbit. I . . . I think you need it.” She sighed. I heard the smile on her face as she did. “Think of all the adventures we could have. All the colors we would see and all the people we would meet. If we could only find the rabbit hole in this house . . . There must be one somewhere. A way to escape.”
I breathed in deep and smelled her mama’s rose perfume again. Then I thought of her uncles and her papa. Thought of the kids I had seen being brought in at night in vans. I now knew what for. I didn’t know where those kids came from or who they were. But now Mr. Earnshaw and the uncles had me too . . .
“Rabbit?” Dolly slowly reared back her head. She stared me in the eyes, and I tried to search her gaze. Then, before I could do anything, she moved forward, and suddenly her lips were crushing mine. I froze, not knowing what to do. My head told me to push her off, to get her away from all the fucking pollution that was stuck on my body. Coating every inch. But something in my chest told me to keep her on me. Keep her rose smell and sweet taste there, removing all the bad.
Dolly pulled back, out of breath. Her eyes were wide as she stared into mine. “Rabbit . . .” she whispered and brought her hands up to touch her lips. “I just had to do that . . .” She swallowed. “I couldn’t stand you being so sad anymore. And I just had to kiss you, Rabbit. I just had to . . .”
I didn’t speak. Couldn’t speak. Just felt Dolly all over my lips. Felt Dolly all over my skin. I wanted her back. Wanted her back in my arms. Rubbing her scent on me, letting it seep into my blood and bones.
I hooked my arm around her neck and pulled her into me. It wasn’t long before I felt Dolly’s tears running over the skin on my neck, and I leaned in toward her. She always felt whatever I felt. I always felt whatever she did. Fuck everyone else. It was me and her.
Dolly hugged me tighter, and I promised myself that they would never touch her. I would never let them. They would have me instead. As much of me as they could take. I’d take it to protect her. To keep her this pure. This innocent.
My little Alice in Wonderland.
But if they ever tried to hurt her, to take her from me, I’d kill them all. I didn’t know how or when, but if they ever made her cry or took her the way they took me . . .
. . . I would fucking end them all.
And I knew that I’d enjoy it.
Chapter 3
Ellis
Six months later . . .
“Can you believe it’s my birthday tomorrow, Mrs. Jenkins?” I asked as I came out of the shower. “Ten years old.” I sat down at the vanity and let Mrs. Jenkins rub a towel over my wet hair.
She smiled at me in the mirror as she put the towel down and picked up a brush. “Well,” she said, “it’ll be your birthday in only one hour.” I smiled in excitement. “Your papa has spoiled you tonight allowing you to stay up this late.”
Mrs. Jenkins blow-dried my hair and smoothed it down my back with my brush. She fixed my black headband in place, the ends of my hair curling slightly against my shoulders. “Now, I take it you want to wear a blue dress again?” She shook her head. “At least we have a new one. A special one for your birthday. One for older girls.”
“Yes!” I said excitedly. I’d been desperate to wear that dress. I put my hand on her arm. “But now that I’m ten, am I allowed to wear the other socks?” I held my breath, crossing the fingers on my other hand, bouncing from foot to foot, praying she said yes.
Mrs. Jenkins leaned down and kissed my head. “Of course, young lady. You’re a big girl now.”
I shrieked and ran to my closet. I grabbed the black-and-white striped knee-high socks my papa had bought for me last year. They still smelled brand new. When he’d seen them after they arrived in the mail, he told me they were too old for me. But he said I could wear them on my birthday. When I turned ten. Because it would be a special day for me.
I’d be a big girl.
“Where are we going again?” I asked Mrs. Jenkins as I started getting ready in my dress and new socks. When I was dressed, I looked down at my new blue dress. It was tighter than my others had been. Shorter too, and the skirt puffed out off my thighs. There was even a black belt that went around my waist. I fastened it and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes widened. I looked so grown up!
“It’s a surprise.” Mrs. Jenkins brought me a cup of tea. “Here, drink this.” I took the steaming hot tea from her hand and sat down at my vanity. I brought the cup to my nose. I closed my eyes as I smelled the familiar scent of Earl Grey—my absolute favorite. I wouldn’t drink anything else.
I took a sip, then another, and placed it down on the table. Mrs. Jenkins walked out of the door. When she came back, she was holding a box. “Keep drinking that tea, Ellis,” she prompted and stopped before me.
I drank some more of the tea. “What’s in the box?”
Mrs. Jenkins set it down on my lap. There was a blue ribbon tied around the lid. “It’s from your papa.”
Too excited to hold back, I opened the box and pushed back the blue tissue paper to reveal a black leather shoe. No, not a shoe, but a high ankle boot. I picked it up. It had four gold buckles up the side. But the best part was the small heel. Papa never ever let me wear heels; he said they were not for little girls.
But these had heels . . . because he had told me that at ten years old I was no longer little.
“They’re beautiful,” I whispered as I took out the second boot and stared at them together. A pair.
Mrs. Jenkins took the boots from my hand and kneeled down. “Let’s get them on your feet.” I lifted my foot. Mrs. Jenkins paused, the boot at my toe. “Tea,” she said. “I want to see that cup empty before we go downstairs.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I drank the rest in one gulp.
Mrs. Jenkins smiled at me when I showed her the cup was empty. “Good girl,” she crooned and carried on sliding my boots onto my feet.
When she was done, she stood and offered me her hand. “Come now, missy, let’s see if you can stand in them.” I played with my mummy’s old high heels, so I knew that I could. But when I stood from the chair, I wobbled. I clutched onto Mrs. Jenkins. The room tilted a little to the right. I put my hand on my head. “Mrs. . . . Mrs. Jenkins . . . I don’t . . . I don’t feel so good.” I rubbed my eyes. They’d gone blurry.
“You’re fine, Ellis,” she said and clutched at my hand. She looked at the clock on my wall. “It’s midnight, Miss Earnshaw. You’re officially ten years old.” She smiled, but it looked lopsided to my eyes. “Happy birthday!”
“Mrs. . . .” I tried to say again, but she pulled me forward by the hand, toward the door. I held on to her as tightly as I could. My breathing sounded funny in my ears. Like it was whooshing too fast, then too slow, and there was a ringing in the background.
Mrs. Jenkins led me to the elevator and pressed the button. She smiled at me again. I wanted to tell her I still didn’t feel good, but my throat went all funny—it was too tight. I grabbed at my throat, and I felt tears building in my eyes. I closed my eyelids.
I wanted Rabbit.
He always made me feel better. But he kept getting taken from me. I never saw him much anymore. Only when he sneaked into my room at night, without anyone knowing. But when he came, he always acted strange. He always huddled against the wall, rocking back and forth, looking at his watch. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock . . .
But he cuddled me. He always held me close. He never used to, but now he squeezed me so tight I sometimes couldn’t breathe. And last week . . . last week he had even pressed his lips against my head. My heart had nearly exploded. Rabbit had kissed me. I had kissed him on his lips when he was sad. But I never dreamed that he would kiss me.
I wanted that cuddle again now. I wanted that kiss. Heathan always made me feel safe.
I flinched when the elevator door opened and the bright lights from the ceiling hurt my eyes. I tripped on the carpet as I followed Mrs. Jenkins. I glanced down at my hands, and I managed to breathe a little bit. I was still holding my doll, clutching her by her long blond hair.
It will protect you from bad people . . . I heard my mummy’s voice say in my head.
The sound of footsteps made me look up. When I did, I saw Rabbit in the distance. Uncle Clive had his hand on Heathan’s shoulder, and he was leading him to a room. I tried to call out for Heathan, but before I could, Uncle Clive led him into the room and shut the door. I still tried to open my mouth, to ask Mrs. Jenkins where Heathan and Uncle Clive were going, but I couldn’t make my lips move. They were numb.
Was Heathan here for my birthday surprise too?
Was the surprise that I got him back after he had been kept from me for so long?
Mrs. Jenkins stopped outside of Papa’s office door. She fixed my headband and smoothed out my hair. “Your papa is going to think you’re so pretty, Miss Earnshaw. His perfect little girl.”
My eyelids were lazy as I tried to blink. I opened my mouth to tell her I wanted to go back to bed, but my mouth felt too dry to make my tongue work. My lips felt too swollen to open, and I couldn’t form words.
Mrs. Jenkins led me inside Papa’s office. Her hand held mine a little tighter as she shut the door behind us. My papa rose from his chair with a huge smile on his face. “Ellis!” he said and came toward me with his arms held out. He hugged me and held me tightly. He kissed my cheek, making a loud smacking sound on my skin. “Happy birthday, baby.” He stepped back and looked me up and down, holding my arms with his hands. “You look so beautiful.” I swayed as I tried to see him better.
My uncles each give me a tight hug. By the time the last one had stepped back, I felt tears on my cheeks. Help! I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. Something is wrong with me!
“Come here, baby.” Papa led me to the center of a circle of plush leather chairs. He moved to the side of the room, and the sound of “Dear Jessie,” my favorite song in the world, filled the air. My uncles sat down on the chairs, as did my papa. “Dance for us, baby,” Papa said, and suddenly the room stopped tipping to the side.
I tried to shake my head. Heathan had told me never to dance for them again. He told me that every night. He made me promise him, every night. And I hadn’t danced for them, not since the first time he told me.
I didn’t know if they had seen my head shake, but my papa didn’t look happy with me. I gripped my doll’s hair tighter in my fist. “Dance, baby,” he said again. But when I didn’t, he got to his feet. His hand touched my face, followed by his finger running down my cheek. “Did she drink it?” he asked someone over my head, behind me.
“All of it,” Mrs. Jenkins replied. “I made sure of it.” I heard the door open and close as she left the room.
My Uncle John stood and came over to us. He pulled my papa back by his arm and said, “I won the right to tonight, Jacob. I go first. It was a fair deal. I won that poker game fair and square.”
My papa nodded and gestured toward the door. Uncle John slipped his hand in mine then led me out of the room. I turned back to look at my papa, but he was already talking to my other uncles. They were shaking his hand and laughing. Uncle Samuel patted him on the back.
Uncle John yanked on my hand, pulling me forward. The movement caused my fist to open, and my doll fell to the floor. No! I tried to shout as Alice slumped to the carpet, but my mouth still wouldn’t move. I watched her lying on the carpet as Uncle John led me down the hall. We stopped at a door opposite the one Heathan had gone through with Uncle Clive. I reached out and ran my fingers over the wood of Heathan’s door. I tried to call his name. No sound came out. Before I could knock, to get my Rabbit to come to me, to tell Papa and my uncles that I was too sick for their birthday surprise, Uncle John took me inside the room.
He led me to a bed, and I sighed in relief. He could tell I was sick. He was going to let me sleep. He was going to take care of me.
He guided me to the edge of the bed. I sat down, closing my eyes to stop the room spinning, and I felt Uncle John’s hands run over my new striped socks and up my thighs. He lifted my dress, and my eyes rolled open. I jumped, trying to move back as he took hold of the new frilly lace panties Mrs. Jenkins had given me as my present. Uncle John smiled at me, then leaned in and kissed me on my lips as he ran the panties down my legs. When he had taken them off my feet, he pushed them into his pants pocket.
“Lie down, baby girl.” He smoothed his hand over my hair. My heart was beating fast. I shook my head, but he pushed on my shoulder, flattening me to the mattress. He crawled above me, and when I looked down, he was holding something in his hand. I couldn’t tell what, but he was moving it back and forth. His cheeks were red, his breathing had gone funny, like he was out of breath, and he leaned down and kissed me again. “Happy happy birthday, baby girl,” he whispere
d in my ear, then I felt his hand move. Move to a place I didn’t want him to go.
No! I wanted to shout, but the light above me swayed and I couldn’t move. I blinked and blinked again. Something hurt. It hurt so bad that tears fell from my eyes.
Alice, my doll, wasn’t there. She wasn’t there to protect me like my mummy had told me.
“Heathan,” I tried to whisper, but my mouth didn’t move. “Heathan,” I tried again, but I think it only sounded in my head. “I don’t . . . I don’t like my birthday present, Rabbit . . . it . . . hurts . . . help me . . . take me away, down the rabbit hole, to Wonderland.”
But Heathan never came.
Wonderland never came.
The rabbit hole could not be found.
So I just closed my eyes . . .
I was so cold as I walked behind my uncle, back to the office. Goosebumps raced across my body, and my lips were shaking. They shook so badly I couldn’t stop them.
I was limping. Between my legs hurt so much that tears still fell down my cheeks. But Uncle John ignored my pain, instead patting me on my head and telling me I was a good girl. He told me we were closer now. All of us. That all of my uncles wanted to get just as close as we had . . . because they loved me so much. That it was my birthday present.
I didn’t think I wanted them that close. But I didn’t dare say.
Uncle John pushed through the office door and led me back toward the circle. I saw my Alice doll on my papa’s desk. I wanted to hug her. I wanted her to make me feel better, to protect me. Maybe if she was in my arms the pain between my legs wouldn’t be so bad.