Hush Money by Susan Bischoff Read Free Book Online

seemed not good, and I was starting to feel
uneasy about more than just Marco occupying my personal space.
    In that moment, before Jeff blocked her from
my view, she looked up.
    I jumped back on instinct, right into Marco
who used the opportunity to throw his arm around my shoulders. I
don’t think Trina saw me. She might have seen a flash of someone,
assumed Marco was watching them. Leaning away from Marco again I
took a chance, leaned toward the railing again and peeked through
the bars.
    Jeff had Trina completely caged, almost
completely hidden by his tall body. I could see part of the side of
her, one leg, covered in black tights below her skirt, bent at the
knee, her whole body sort of trying to turn protectively away from
him. His hand skimmed up the sleeve of her light jacket, caught the
strap of her bag that she wore over one shoulder, and pulled it
off, dropping it to the ground beside them. The move tugged her
jacket and sweater out of place to bare her shoulder. She didn’t
move to fix her clothes, but she didn’t look at him either.
    Beside me, as my stomach clenched, Marco
leaned into my ear. “Do you like to watch?”
    I wanted to ask him what was going on, but I
was afraid to turn my face toward his, afraid and disgusted by the
intimacy of our conversation as well as the scene below us. I was
afraid to ask because I was afraid to know. Because knowing for
sure that something was wrong would morally obligate me to act to
stop it, wouldn’t it?
    And I couldn’t do that.
    Jeff leaned in and was saying something to
Trina. Her face was turned away, toward the corner, but I could see
her body language, see her cringe. Unconsciously I mimicked her
movement. That caused Marco to chuckle softly. He lifted his arm
from around my shoulders, but before I could be relieved, he
quickly shifted his position, sliding up and back, getting one leg
on the other side of me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and
hauled me back snug against him, dropping his chin on my shoulder
so that we were both looking over the railing.
    Somehow I had let that happen. That
disgusting pig had his whole body wrapped around mine and I just
sat there and took it. I didn’t shriek, throw him off, pummel him
senseless—all the kinds of reactions that I would never allow
myself because they would draw too much attention. Maybe that
doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I’d spent my whole life learning
to tread as lightly as I could, always concerned about not making
anyone notice me. If I started yelling my head off and teachers
came rushing to my aid, I’d have to explain why I was up here
illegally in the first place. They’d remember me. I’d be on their
radar. Other kids might see or hear, start wondering aloud why I
was up there with Marco in the first place. Start talking about me,
noticing me. I couldn’t have that. I had to stay cool.
    Cool and completely grossed out.
    I forced myself to be calm. Being this
disgusted isn’t fatal, I thought. Probably. I could just
wait it out, until Marco was done messing with me. Let him lose
interest as usual and be on his way. I was in no real danger, after
all. We were in school, right? What was really going to happen? If
he tried anything, I could knock him down the stairs. Or there were
other things I could do. My dad might want me to pretend to be
normal around other people, but at home he had made me practice,
build up my control so I was ready for all kinds of scenarios.
    Below us, Jeff lowered his mouth to Trina’s
shoulder. My stomach rolled. I knew my reasons for not
screaming bloody murder, but what were hers? Why the hell didn’t
she knee him in the balls or something? Her hand came up between
them, ineffectually pushing at his chest. He caught it and brought
it up behind her back, forcing her to arch into him. I felt
queasy.
    Inside my conscience was screaming at me to
do something, but the part of my mind that was always in control,
that monitored every single step I took to make