Page 24 of The Killer Cupcake (Poison Cherry #3)

Pinkie spoke: “You think that Thibodeaux boy’s heart flutters for you?

Maybe it does… today. But men like Jean-Baptiste?

”She spat the name.“They collect girls like us. Pretty dark birds to cage. He’ll whisper love, fill you with champagne dreams…

use your body and convince you that you like it, then install you in some back-alley room.

You’ll scrub his wife’s floors by day, warm his bed by night until you’re used up. Or until his sister finds you.”

“JB wouldn’t ? —”

“Crois-moi.” Pinkie’s command cut like glass. With deliberate slowness, she rolled up her sleeve.

The scar wasn’t just skin. It was a landscape of torment—thick, ropy keloids snaking up her forearm, flesh melted and remade by agony.

“Claire Thibodeaux. JB’sdearsister. Boiling water.

Because her husband… he liked the way I looked serving coffee.

I was only ten , Willa.Dix ans. My skin slid off thick and bubbling. ”

Janey’s knuckles whitened on her chair. Fury, cold and absolute, radiated from her.

“What happened? Did you… did he get punished?”

“ We screamed for justice. But justice?"Janey's voice dropped to a venomous hiss.

"That door stayed locked. I hammered on it—begged Don Marcello who owned the cops, even confronted his appointed sheriff, Carmine Boanno, himself, to help us. Of course, all Carmine Boanno wanted from me was sex. And do you know what he said to me after I gave it to him? Let him abuse and use my body in some of the most wicked ways?”She leaned in, eyes blazing.

“A burned colored girl? Who gives a shit? No one can tell with skin like that anyway.”

Janey took a deep breath, feeling her anger even more.

Pinkie reached over and rubbed Janey’s arm to soothe her.

Janey closed her eyes and spoke with them closed.

“Claire's husband cried his pretty crocodile tears for the judges. Made a whole show of his wounded honor. And walked away clean. Not a damn stain on his shiny reputation in Creole society.”

Pinkie’s voice was flat, resigned.“Papa tried. Went to the gens de couleur council. The next night, men dragged him to the levee. Left him broken. Walks crooked now. My word against Claire’s? Against a Thibodeaux?”Pinkie gave a bitter laugh, hollow. “Janey… she fixed things her way.”

“I went to the Thibodeaux myself, apologised, and entered their world. They had no problem welcoming a Elliot into their society, one of my sisters had passed through their doors and married well. She lives as a white woman in Oregon now. It wasn’t hard to make myself worthy.

” A shadow crossed Janey’s face—something feral, satisfied.

“Six months later, Madame Geneviève Thibodeaux took ill. Tragique .Bleeding from places a lady shouldn’t.

Screaming like a banshee. Then Claire… ah, poor Claire.

Such amysteriouswasting sickness claimed her, too.

Three other Creole elite’s that were on the council fell ill and died.

Doctors whispered of ‘cursed blood.’ Andrew, that saintly husband?

Vanished.Poof.”Janey snapped her fingers, the sound sharp in the heavy air.

“And Carmine? Mon mari ? He fell ill, too. Nearly died. A problem, that one. Sicilian blood is supposed to curdle likecréolecream, but it was made of something stronger. At least his blood is.”

“That’s enough, Janey,” Pinkie whispered. “Stay calm. Carmine loves you. Remember? You forgave him.”

“I won’t be silenced in my home, Pinkie,” Janey turned on her. Pinkie only smiled and rubbed Janey’s hand like a parent would do for a spoiled child.

“Are you saying that you made them sick? Dead?” Willa gasped. Neither of the women spoke. “And your husband? Carmine? But you nursed him back,”Willa breathed, understanding dawning—terrible and bright.

“Kathy’s mother came and helped fix Carmine.

She prayed with me. We decided he was mine.

It’s our way as Elliot women. If they save our lives, like Henry saved Brenda, then we are theirs, faithful and strong.

But if we decide to save theirs, then they are damned and belong to us, our pets, our slaves.

My life for his life and his life for mine.

He made the ultimate sacrifice by surviving my cherry.

Just like All men must pay a price to be worthy.

That is the key, Willa. Men must be worthy; if not, they should be judged. ”

“Janey and I don’t agree on her methods,” Pinkie interjected. “Janey isn’t a killer. She’s simply saying that men should earn your love, not take it as a trophy.”

Janey waved off the correction and sipped her drink.

“That’s why you married him. Carmine? Because you love him?” Willa asked.

“I suppose. And it’s why Pinkie’s family stays,”Janey said softly.“Not servants.Gardiens.My shadows. My blades in the dark.”

Willa stared at these women—one forged in fire, one wrapped in silk and secrets both lethal and committed to one another.“Why’d you run? From Butts to Jackson and then here. To the Tremé ? What was chasing you? Kathy would never tell me.”

Janey’s amusement vanished. Her eyes, usually dancing with mockery, turned flat and hard as river stones.

“That story stays buried deeper than Madame Thibodeaux. Now.”She stood.

“Va. You heard the truth. Make your decision. Will you go to your Jean-Baptiste? Taste his promised world. Be the lamb instead of the prize?”

Willa stood. She glanced at Pinkie, who held a plea in her eyes for Willa to make the right choice. She then looked into Janey’s eyes, which were wild with mockery and delight over the dilemma. Wanting something to happen.

Willa’s grip tightened around her satchel strap.

“JB wants something from me—I know that. I can see it when he looks at me. The way he licks his bottom lip when he talks to me.”Her voice was low, stripped of illusions.

“And I know what men see when they look at all of us, especially me and Pinkie. Easy prey. ” She met Janey’s gaze without flinching.

“But I’m not you, Aunt Janey. I don’t have your… advantages or beauty.”

Pinkie shot up and stepped forward,her robe rustling like a sigh.

“Honey, that ‘advantage’ ain’t armor. When they see us—light, dark, in-between—they see the same thing: a body to use.

Janey’s skin might’ve opened doors, but behind those doors, nothing was better for her.

Not even now with Carmine. It’s rare to find a lover, a friend, all wrapped in a man who doesn’t punish and call it love. And it won’t be better for you.”

Willa’s composure frayed. “You think I don’t know that?

But if you’d ever felt this… hollowness?

”She pressed a fist to her chest.“Like Butts scooped out everything good inside me—hope, family, dreams—left nothing but dust? You’d understand.

Anywhere is better than back there. One day Kathy gone leave, her prince gone take her to her own palace.

Like what Janey got. And I’ll still be there, washing Ms Lottie’s drawers and mopping floors.

Eating scraps from her table. Anyoneis better than that emptiness. ”

Silence hung thick between the women.

Janey’s eyes—amber and unreadable—switched to Pinkie. A lifetime of understanding passed between them: She’s already gone.

“Tell Kathy…”Willa swallowed, the ghost of Butts cotton fields choking her.“Tell her it was my choice. And that I’m… I’m sorry.”

“What happens next stainsyoursoul, not Kathy’s. You walk with eyes open now,petite. And if the shine fades… if the cage door clangs shut and you want an escape… You find me. Toujours ,” Janey said and kissed her on the left and right cheek. A benediction. A warning.

Pinkie remained silent, her expression carved from sorrow. “Don’t do this, child,” she said softly. “Even if JB is different from the others, his sisters and brothers won’t be. This is another dead end.”

“Hush now,” Janey said to Pinkie. “Her choice is made. We all get to make our own choices! And we all have our scars to bear. It’s time she got hers. It’ll make her strong.”

Pinkie shook her head.

“JB knows not to go too far,” Janey shrugged. “He knows who I am and what I am, even if he is too scared to say it aloud.”

Willa walked over and hugged Pinkie. She hugged her tightly. “I’ma be okay, Pinkie, this is what I want,”she whispered, the truth raw and stark.“Even poison tastes sweet when you’re starving.”

She let her go and hurried away.

Outside, Jean-Baptiste leaned against his sleek convertible, haloed by streetlight. His smile, when he saw her, was a masterpiece of boyish charm. Janey watched from the doorway, a specter in black. Pinkie stood beside her, a silent statue.

JB opened the passenger door with a flourish. Willa slid in, the leather cool against her legs. As the engine purred to life, JB turned. His eyes met Janey’s across the manicured lawn.

He tipped his hat.“Madame Boanno, merci .”

Janey didn’t blink. Her returning nod wasn’t acknowledgment—it was a promise. A line drawn in blood that only they could see. The car pulled away, carrying Willa toward the glittering, gilded dark.

Pinkie shut the heavy door. The click of the lock echoed like a tomb sealing.

“You set that poor girl up, Janey. You and I both know that a Thibodeux wouldn’t dare touch anyone near you without permission. Why did you give her to him? You need another cause? Another righteous reason to kill a man again? That poor girl has no hope with those demons.”

Janey went to the window and stared into the night where the taillights had vanished.

“ Non. But she might survivebecoming. And that… ma chère … is the only paradise we get—learning to survive. I hate the innocent living unaware of the darkness. Scars don’t have to heal.

They can make a woman stronger. My mama taught me that. ”

Janey looked at Pinkie. “Now you stay out of it, Pinkie. I’ll deal with Kathy. I gave you a chance to make Willa stay. She made her choice! You live with it. You hear!”

Pinkie looked at Janey, heartbroken. She watched her waltz back up the stairs and return to Carmine’s arms. Defeated, Pinkie turned away in tears.