Page 57 of Sapphires and Snakes
I enter the last number and unlock the safe. “The whole being a captive but not thing.”
“Right.” She replaces the blade and turns to me. “If anything happens, who do I call? You can’t help, obviously.”
“Call Tamayo.” The name whooshes through me, stealing my breath. “Her number is in our messages. But these…” I tug out a manilla envelope so full, the edges threaten to rip. Inside it lies about two inches of paperwork that could either save me from my fate or condemn me to death. I’m choosing to hope for the former. “These have to be delivered into the DA’s hands by four tomorrow.”
Sally looks at me, at the envelope, at me again. I wait, not pressuring her to decide either way even if I desperately need her to do this. I don’t know who else to ask. I don’t trust my parents, Pat and I can’t leave without Danny sticking to us like a fucking barnacle, and no one else in this house is allowed to talk to me. Marcus’s orders with Danny enforcing.
Sally’s my only chance.
“Do you know how to use all of these?” She nods at the wall of weapons.
“Yes.” Thankfully, Father wasn’t too keen to only depend on his men to protect me.
“And yet you’re stuck here.”
“Yes.” The envelope is heavy in my hands, but I don’t flinch. If I move, change my expression, I know she’ll say no. She might say no if I stand still, too. The seconds tick by, and I know we’re running out of Danny’s patience. Any moment, he’ll barge backinto my room as ifheowns the place, and my chance to stop this wedding from happening at all will wink out of existence. It’s Sally or no one. It’s now or never.
Sally presses her lips together. Her Black skin glows in the warm, low light of the closet as she considers me and my stack of paper. The irony of the moment hits me—we’re here, two queers hiding in a closet and hoping not to incur the wrath of straight cis men. If it was actually funny, I’d laugh. Unfortunately, nothing’s very funny these days.
Especially not this.
She heaves a sigh and holds out her hands. “Anything I should say to the DA?”
Relief edged with urgency slams into me. “Thank you so much, Sally.” I lay the envelope in her outstretched palms. “Tell the DA this is what I oweher. It should be enough.”
“Her? And enough for what?” Sally asks.
“He’ll know what I mean.” I swing the safe shut and spin the dial before clicking the button to close the wall back up. “Don’t look inside, please.”
“Look inside?” She follows me to the door. “I’m not stupid.”
“I know.” I pause before exiting, grinning back at her.
She doesn’t return it. Instead, her brow is furrowed and her eyes full of concern. She rests a hand on my shoulder. “Are you gonna be okay? I’m scared for you.”
I grab her fingers and squeeze. “I’m scared for me, too.”
I wish I could submerse myself in her comfort, however small. I don’t have much these days. And almost every hour of every day, I am resisting the urge to curl into a ball and let myself fall apart. I haven’t yet. Not once. Because I know if I do, I won’t be able to keep going. I won’t be able to stop this nightmare.
And I must. No matter what it takes.
So I release her hand and shove through the door before I can slide into the warmth of her compassion and losemyself completely. We’re out of time, anyway. My instincts are screaming at me to get back into the bedroom before Danny bursts back inside. He cannot see the envelope.
My room is still empty. I grab a wedding invitation off the pile sitting on the side table. I wrote a note on the back this morning, during one of the few moments I had to myself. “Make sure he gets this, too.”
“God this is so fucked up.” Sally slips the manilla envelope and invitation into her binder of designs. It’s a little bulky, but innocuous. No one will know it’s anything other than designer business.
Then the door bangs open, smacking into the wall with unnecessary force.
“It’s been long enough.” Danny surveys the room like he’s expecting it to be full of assassins. Or empty. He narrows his eyes when everything is as he left it—except I’m in my robe.
Sally sneers as she zips the dress into its garment bag, fingers gentle with the fragile piece. She picks up her binder and the bag and levels a look of pure derision at Danny. “You’ve never lasted longer in your life, have you?”
The transformation of his face from skeptical intimidation to confusion to enraged offense would be comical if he wasn’t striding across the room with his fists clenched and his jaw set. I shoot Pat a look as I step into his path.
“Watch your mouth, bitch?—”
“Shut up, Snake.” I shove his chest, sending him back on his heels. My heart is loud in my ears. Danny is bigger, stronger, and armed to the teeth. But I also know that, right now, before I’m married to Marcus, he cannot touch me. Not if he wants this wedding to happen. “You will not insult my guests in my home.”