Dollhouse

S E V E N

G E N E S I S

Loud music engulfs me when I enter the nightclub. I head into the VIP area where Alba texted me they’d be at. My short white dress flows against people as I walk around looking for them. I spot them at the bar. The VIP areas have their own fully stocked bar. I get the feeling that this night is going to be a long one.

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like everything around me is drowning me.”

"I understand," Alba says. Yaretzi nods in agreement.

"I want revenge for my sister. I don't even know what happened to my mother. I don't want my brother to be a part in his darkness," I say.

I'm jealous of the fact that they can drink. I can't. Matthew has made sure to let everyone know I can't legally drink liquor. A part of me hates him for that at this moment. Alba and Yaretzi have been kind and accepting of me. They have a charity for victims of human trafficking: Clarity. For the past five years, I've watched them grow. I've watched them help so many people. It was the reason why I had decided to tell them about my father. They would understand and they did. Now, they were helping me gather enough evidence against him. My sister would be proud of that.

"The Polaroids should help build a case," Alba says. She's worked with the FBI before on cases. She's familiar with evidence that can help. After all, she's trying to bring down their own father too. 

"Continue to play the part of the obedient daughter. Of the second person of the pair," Alba continues. "Do you think you can get me a copy of the photos?"

I nod.

"Good."

"He deserves to be in prison," I state.

"He will be," Yaretzi says.

They drink some more. We move on. We talk about us, what we've been up to. Yaretzi tell us about her lavish, erotic night out with her husband. I tell them about Matthew. They're intrigued. We laugh at each other's jokes and comments. We end up on the dance floor. Alba is pulled away to dance with a man. Yaretzi stays close by. It's nice to see Alba come out of her shell. Her husband had disappeared without a trace five years ago. She was left alone to raise their young daughter. I had hated her. I hated her for the relationship - the friendship - she had with Matthew. I waited five years to make my move. To when I was old enough to make one. Matthew was mine. When I had seen she had no interest in him romantically, I was left to peace. No one was going to get in the way of my teenage crush.

~ ♡ ~

I felt someone melting holes into my head. I grew hot. It wasn't a bad feeling. It felt good. To be watched. I had a feeling I knew who it was so I searched. My eyes meet his. He raises his glass. I smirk. This was about to get so much more exciting. 

"You look radiant in white."

Heat creeps from my throat to my cheeks. I dip my head before smiling and looking back at him.

"Thank you," I reply. I regain my confidence. "You look sexy in black."

He grins. I swoon internally. 

“Would you like something to drink?”

I look at him skeptically. “You’re letting me have liquor?”

He scoffs. “No. I’ll lose my liquor license. You’ll have a Shirley Temple.”

I roll my eyes. Of course, I am. I see him smile and shake his head. 

“I’d prefer a Mango Tango,” I say. “Virgin, of course.”

He orders me the drink and bourbon for himself. He hesitantly hands me the Mango Tango. I take a sip. God. He looks great. This drink is great too.

“Would you like to dance?” He extends his hand towards me.

“I would love to.” 

I take his hand and he leads me onto the dance floor. His hands land on his hips. I step closer to him, sliding my arms up and around his neck. His eyes flash with amusement. I lean my head against his shoulder blade, closing my eyes. I take in the music as we move. The song changes into something more romantic, in a remix. For whatever reason, my eye catches on someone. I take a better look when we move around again. 

Oh. I smile. I get a bad idea. I tilt my face up and look at Matthew.

“Will you kiss me?”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Matthew says.

He never hesitates. His lips descend on mine. He pulls my body closer to him. I hold onto him, curling my fingers into his dress shirt. I kiss him bad with the same amount of passion he’s given me. He kisses me harder. I feel the butterflies flutter in my belly. f**k. We pull apart. I feel like I’m on cloud-nine.

“Wow,” I breathlessly say.

“Ditto,” he replies.

I look at where I saw her. She’s nowhere to be found. Had she seen us? I hope so. Matthew and I continue to dance. Our hands explore each other on top of our clothes. We're now close enough to the VIP area that I can see Yaretzi is sitting alone. I try looking for Alba in the lounge; she's nowhere to be found. The man she was with had now moved on to the next woman. I pull from Matthew.

"What's wrong?" I hear him ask.

"I can't see Alba anymore," I reply.

"What? What do you mean?" I hear the worry for his friend in his voice. I would know; she's my friend too.

"Yaretzi is alone," I say. "She was dancing with a man who's now dancing with another." 

Had she done what she had wanted already? Without telling me? For the past four years, she had been trying to get close to the people who took her husband. They frequented the club looking for women. She wanted to get information about what happened with Cain.

"Perhaps, she went home?" He says in a question. He knew about Alba's plan. Yaretzi wouldn't be here if she had. I look at him, staying quiet.

"She didn't go home," he answers himself.

"I don't think so," I say.

We pull away from each other. Matthew takes my hand in his as he leads us to the lounge. We sit down with Yaretzi. She smiles at us.

“Where’s Alba?” I ask first.

Yaretzi’s smile falls. “I thought she was with you.”

“No. She went off dancing with some guy. He’s not with her,” I say. “I didn’t see her on the dance floor.”

“Are they here tonight?” She asks referring to the people Alba has been researching.

“No,” Matthew replies.

“Perhaps she went to the restroom. I’ll check,” Yaretzi stands from her sitting spot. She makes a beeline towards the women’s bathroom. Matthew and I stay behind at the lounge. She comes back a few minutes later.

“She’s not in there. She’s not here,” she says. I close my eyes in disappointment.

“I have to go,” she says. I nod.

“Please be safe,” Matthew says.

“I will,” Yaretzi takes her purse and leaves.

After she leaves, Matthew leads me into a conference where we are met by a few of the security men and women he’s hired for the club. He tells them our friend is missing. They set themselves to work. I yawn. Matthew gathers me in his arms and carries me onto the couch against the way. He sits with me in his arms. I rest my head on his shoulder. I close my eyes as his hand pets it’s way through my hair. This feels nice. I could stay in his arms forever.

~ ♡ ~

Gentle shaking is what wakes me up. My eyes flutter open. Matthew is crouching before me.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hey. It’s late. I’ll take you home, if you want,” he says.

“It’s okay. I can drive thirty-minutes on my own.” He nods. “Did they find her?”

I sit up and stand to gather my items.

“No,” he says. “She wasn’t here.”

~ ♡ ~

I couldn’t sleep that night. I spent it tossing and turning. I tried calling Alba but to no avail. All my calls went to voicemail. Now, in the morning, Yaretzi lets me know through a text message that she’s had no luck in contacting her. My father and Marcos are already eating breakfast when I arrive at our dining table.

“Good morning, honey,” Dad greets me.

“Good morning, Dad.” Adrian. “Good morning, Coco.”

Marcos rolls his eyes. “Good morning, Loser.”

“Sé amable con tu hermana,” my father scolds him.

“Yes, Coco, be nice,” I smirk. Marcos flips me off, obstructing it from Dad’s view. 

We finish eating breakfast. Marcos excuses himself to go to football practice. Once, Marcos is out of hearing range my father says, “Don’t go into the Dollhouse for the next few days. I’m doing some construction work.”

I look at him, expectantly. “Construction work usually means you’re building another room or making a new box.”

“Es verdad,” he says. I’m about to question his further when I hear the commotion coming from the living room area. What the heck is that? Emily, my step-mother, and her daughter, Sarah, stumble into the dining room.

“Surprise!” Sarah yells out. She rushes over my side and gives me a hug.

“Hey, you guys are here early. I thought you were coming back next week?” Dad says.

“We wanted to come back to send Día de los Muertos with you guys,” Emily says. “We know it’s a special occasion for Genesis and Marcos.”

She gives my shoulder a squeeze. I smile, gratefully, at her. Every year, since she married Dad - and before when she was our nanny - she would help me decorate for the Day of the Dead in honor of my mother and sister. I was always grateful for that. Once Sarah was old enough, she helped with the decorations and to bake the specialties. I could not wait for this years’.