Lily Masterton Lily Masterton April 8, 1903
The scars wouldn’t be too bad. They’d be hers for life, but they weren’t going to be as bad as she thought.
Lily swallowed hard and looked away from the livid wounds in the porcelain pale skin of her left arm. At least he hadn’t marked her face. It could have been worse. If she kept reminding herself that, maybe -
“What did he do, try to carve his name into your arm, cherie?” Angelique, the eldest of the women working at the Lion’s Den, and the undisputed ‘mother’ of the girls, frowned as she applied disinfectant to one of the many cuts zigzagging up from just above Lily’s wrist to her elbow.
“I think so,” she murmured. If one looked closely, they could make out the first letter, an L. She’d be marked with that letter for life. Well, at least my own name starts with L, she reflected, struggling to keep her perspective. I can just tell people I did it myself.
“Are those cigarette burns?” Hope - small, blonde and probably the most popular with the customers - piped in. Lily sighed. Did they all need to see this? Her tiny bedroom was crowded with her co-workers, and more girls milled around the hallway outside.
“Oui,” Angelique answered the younger girl in her native French. “What did you do to make the boss angry, Lily?”
Lily flinched. “I didn’t do anything. He just - ” He just went crazy, and that was the truth.
It hadn’t been so bad to begin with. She’d never met the owner of this combination tavern, gaming hall, and bawdy house before last night; she’d only been working there for three months, and he’d been gone somewhere for that time, apparently on business. He’d shown up the night before, and at first, Lily had been charmed. He was certainly handsome, and heaven knew the customers she took were rarely that. Smooth talking, charming, downright seductive, he’d been almost kind to her. Passionate. She’d enjoyed it, for heaven’s sake! But then, after the sex, there had been a look in his eyes, something bad, something wrong, evil, nearly insane - and that was when the pain began.
“It had to have been about her,” Marianne added softly, leaning on the cracked doorframe. “He was looking for Katrine first, but she was already with a customer."
“He was lookin’ fer me?” Petite, green eyed and red haired, Katrine had been the boss’ favorite for nearly two years. She paled as she looked at the mess that was Lily’s arm.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lily sighed. She was feeling woozy from the laudanum Marianne had fed her, and all she wanted to do was sleep for a week. Perhaps when she woke up, everything would be different.
“Katrine looks like his girlfriend,” Hope explained, glancing nervously over her shoulder.
“Not a lot, jus’ da hair,” Katrine cut in. For once, being the boss’ favorite wasn’t a good thing. The skin around her mouth was positively pinched.
“The hair,” Lily muttered, then glanced around the room. Angelique had black hair, and smoky dark skin. Marianne was blonde, so was Hope, as well as about a third of the other girls. The rest were brunette. She and Katrine were the only ones who could be called redheads. “It was the hair.” Her own was strawberry blonde, lighter than Katrine’s, but still – red.
“I’m sorry, Lily,” Katrine was speaking up. Her lower lip was trembling. “If I hadn’t already been workin’ -”
“Don’t be silly, Kat,” Lily sighed, watching as Angelique bandaged up the worst of the cuts. The burns would have to stay uncovered so the air could heal them. “It wasn’t your fault. And if you hadn’t been working, this would have been you.”
Katrine flinched at the thought.
“There now,” Angelique spoke up, her soft voice rising and falling with the musical patois of her native New Orleans. “You’re all fixed up, cherie.”
“Thank you,” Lily nodded, staring at the bandages, then laying back on her bed, closing her eyes. She barely noticed as Angelique and Marianne shooed away the gawking girls. The door clicked, and she was blessedly alone.
“What do you mean, I can’t leave?!” Lily faced the manager, sparks shooting from her wide blue eyes. “I just work here, you don’t own me!”
The Lion’s Den manager and second in command, Snake Bracowitz - tall, skinny and very snakey - eyed the girl. “Not officially.”
“Not any way!” Lily snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Yer a whore, Lily,” Snake reminded her quietly, lifting a bottle of whiskey to his lips. “Ya ain’t got nowhere else ta go.”
“I’ll go to a different brothel,” she shot back. “There’s a million of them in New York City.”
“None a’ ‘em’ll take ya,” the manager shrugged his thin shoulders. “Yer one a’ Forlani’s girls. Ain’t nobody gonna touch ya wit’ a ten foot pole.”
Fury raged through her, but Lily gritted her teeth, trying to harness her temper, turn it into a valid argument. “Then I’ll get another job. Do something else.”
“What’re ya gonna do?” Snake’s voice had taken on almost a taunting quality. “Yer a whore, Lily, yer always gonna be a whore. Dere ain’t a legit business in dis city dat’ll hire a whore.”
“So I won’t tell them.”
“Dey’ll find out.”
“I’m not staying here!” Her voice rose in anger before she could stop herself. So much for a calm, civilized discussion.
“Is dere a problem?”
She flinched automatically, hating herself for the weakness, but unable to help it. It was him. He was there, lounging in the doorway, looking maddeningly handsome and disgustingly casual as he eyed the office’s occupants.
“Princess heah wants ta quit,” Snake snorted disdainfully to his boss. Lily forced herself to turn and meet the owner’s jet black eyes. It was a sin, it really was, that someone so beautiful had to be so evil inside. The corner of Luke’s perfect mouth turned up ever so slightly.
“Ya wanna quit, Lily?” he asked, softly, and Lily nodded timidly, backing a step away from him. She’d always been brave, always been gutsy, but this guy scared the nerve right out of her, and not entirely because he’d carved his initial into her flesh, or decorated the back of her hand with round cigarette burns. There was something else, something deeper.
“Yes, I do,” she made herself answer, meeting his eyes squarely. Luke held the gaze for a long moment, and Lily was certain there wasn’t a shred of humanity in those eyes, not humanity or sanity or anything else even approaching normal.
“Fine den.”
She blinked.
“What?” Snake blurted out. “Yer lettin’ ‘er quit?”
Luke shrugged, moving past them to pick up some papers on the desk. “Ain’t me biggest problem right now,” he muttered cryptically.
Lily broke her immobility and backed another step away. “Thanks,” she heard herself say, and was ashamed that she’d been brought to this, to thanking the man who had brutalized her.
Without looking up, Luke lifted a hand and flicked his long, elegant fingers dismissively. The gesture was clear - go.
Lily went.
Her mother had always had a theory. There were three ways to deal with tragedy and trauma. One, you could let it break you completely. Two, you could let it break you only partially, and let yourself become bitter and twisted and angry at the world. Or, three, you could deal with it, get over it, and not let it ruin your capacity to hope and trust. Lily’s mother had always chosen option three, and despite the calamities that would have shattered a lesser woman, or at the very least, made her bitter and cold, she’d always retained her warmth and her generosity and kindness. Lily was determined to be the same way. She wouldn’t brood, she wouldn’t give in to self pity. She’d keep her damn sense of humor if it killed her at this point – but most of all, she would not be bitter. The world was just as full of beauty and kindness as it was hatred and sadism. It just happened to be a little more elusive right now. It wouldn’t stay that way forever.
She left the Lion’s Den that Tuesday morning, with nothing but thirteen dollars and twenty seven cents in her pocket, and a small carpet bag filled with her meager belongings. So far, her job search was yielding nothing. Nada. Zip. Absolutely zero. It was almost as if this fresh-faced girl, strawberry haired and blue eyed, with a sweet smile and simple, but modest clothes, had the word ‘whore’ tattooed in pulsing red on her forehead. It was as if people could smell it on her. Maybe they could. Maybe there was something in her aura, in the air around her, that screamed prostitute. Whatever it was, doors were slamming in her face left, right and center. It was impossible not to be discouraged, to not feel bitter or brood about it.
Lily sighed and let her knees buckle, dropping her exhaustedly to the wooden bench on the edge of a small, vaguely decrepit park in Midtown Manhattan. It was nearly dusk, she had no job, and no place to stay. One would have to wait until tomorrow, the other – well, the other was a bit more pressing.
Leaning forward, she began digging in her reticule, looking for the scrap of paper she’d written an address on. There had been a room in a boarding house advertised in that morning’s paper, and if she could just find where it was –
“Hear yer lookin’ fer work.”
The voice was unexpected, completely out of the blue. Startled, Lily looked up as the man sat down beside her. He was a few inches shorter than she was, skinny, greasy, with a thin face that called to mind a ferret. A smug smirk lingered on those rodent-like features, and Lily’s skin prickled nervously.
“Maybe,” she replied warily. What did he want?
The smirk seemed to widen, and the man held up a cigarette. “Maybe if I light dis, it’ll burn,” he countered, lifting a scraggly eyebrow at her. “Ya need a job an’ nobody’ll hire ya.”
She didn’t think she wanted to know how he knew that.
“True enough,” she agreed, still warily. He had to be recruiting her for a rival whorehouse. It was the only thing that made sense. “How is it your concern?” Either that or he was propositioning her. She wasn’t sure which was worse.
“I can get ‘em willin’,” the man informed her, refuting the latter concern. Although, with his greasy looks and flitty eyes, she couldn’t imagine any woman getting intimate with him by choice. “I run a gamblin’ hall. We’s expandin’.”
Lily digested that in silence, studying the man. She had to ask. “Just a gambling hall?” Once a whore, always a whore…
The man lifted his eyebrows. “I ain’t competin’ wit’ yer former employer.”
“Then,” she hesitated, feeling heat rush to her face. If he didn’t want to prostitute her out, what exactly was he looking to hire her for? Her skills, as she’d discovered over and over again that day, were somewhat limited. “What are you looking for?”
“Waitresses,” the man waved a casual hand. “Dealers.” His gaze flicked to the mess on her arm, but he didn’t comment. “Lookout - think ya’d be better inside though. Pretty girl out on da street at night might give people ideas.” He smirked at this, and Lily flushed, wondering if he was trying to be funny at her expense. Something said yes, indeed, he was.
“I can waitress,” she said slowly, not wanting to show too much desperation. “Or bartend.” She’d fixed drinks more than once or twice for her father and his gambling buddies. “I even know how to deal,” she added.
“Waitress,” the man nodded. “Got a bartender.”
Lily nodded, feeling a strong glow of relief spread through her. She wanted to ask about salary, but at this point, she almost didn’t care. It was a job!
“1050 Broadway,” the man announced, standing up abruptly. “Between 21st and 22nd. Tell Daley Beale sent ya, tell Ellie ta get back to work, an’ nobody drinks on da job.”
She nodded again as she stood, holding out her hand. “Thank you.” Politely, but not too fawning. She didn’t want to look too grateful, although, she had the distinct feeling he knew.
“You’re welcome.” He shook her hand briefly, then he was gone.
Lily stared after him, astounded at how quickly her fortune had turned. She had a job. Maybe not her dream job, maybe not a glamorous job, but a job nonetheless.
She was smiling as she headed towards that boarding house to see about a place to sleep.
The Silver Nickel was a gambling hall. Just a gambling hall. Not a brothel, just a gaming house. And quite an extensive one at that. Poker, craps, blackjack, betting on dog fights and cock fights, even betting on the races. It could all be done at the Silver Nickel.
Lily found herself working the tables in the main room, where the poker and blackjack tables were set up. The other employees were an eclectic mix of people - some of which were even surpassing the coworker mark to become actual friends. Lily was surprised to discover she was happier than she’d been since her mother died.
As far as patrons went, the Nickel’s customers were as diverse as its staff. Every walk of life, every example of man came through those doors. One thing about the Nickel, it was never boring.
“Miss!” The white haired man at the poker table was bellowing. Lily hated it when people bellowed at her. Almost as much as she hated having people snap their fingers to get her attention. “Miss!”
“Yes, sir?” she scrambled over and smiled at the elderly gentleman, who merely harrumphed in her direction.
“If you can tear yourself away from flirting with that bartender for half a second, I’d like a vodka, neat,” the man grouched. Lily’s cheeks flushed slightly. She had been far from flirting with anyone. She didn’t flirt anymore, with anyone. Period.
“Of course, sir,” she replied sweetly, then glanced at the other poker players. “Anything for anyone else?” The other men shook their hands negatively. Lily nodded, smiled and hurried away, returning with the elderly man’s vodka a moment later.
“Sinful,” the man muttered as she placed the drink in front of him. “Ungodly. Young woman working in a place like this.”
Lily paused, lifting her eyebrows. “Well, it was either here or the brothel down the street,” she replied cheerfully. The delivery was meant to sound as a joke, and only she knew how serious she was.
The man snorted loudly. “You think you’re funny, missy?”
“No, sir,” she shook her head.
“Well,” the elderly man picked up his vodka. “If those were your options, young lady, I’d say you chose best you could.”
Lily laughed and nodded. “I’m glad you approve.” Picking up the empty glasses, she headed for the bar.
“I see you met Mr. Banks,” Tobias, the bartender, commented. Lily grinned.
“I guess so,” she nodded. “Is he always so cantankerous?”
Tobias chuckled. “Cantankerous? That’s him in a good mood.”
Lily laughed and went off to take more drinks orders. The Nickel was rarely quiet, especially on a Friday night, and all three of the present waitresses were being run off their feet.
Hours passed in a haze of smoke and shouts of laughter and defeat. Typical Friday night –
“Lily?”
She paused and turned, a thick mug of beer frothing in her hand. Behind her was Greg Daley, the Nickel’s head bouncer and resident ladies’ man. Normally, his handsome face was alight with a teasing smirk. Right now, it was dark with a deep frown.
“Daley! Ya workin’ or flirtin’?” a shout from across the room distracted them both, and Greg turned to scowl at Tom Little, one of the Nickel’s owners. Lily wrinkled her nose in the man’s general direction as she slid the beer onto the bar in front of the customer who ordered it.
“Ya jealous, Tom?” Greg muttered in response, then turned back to face her. “Yer old boss is downstairs,” he announced. “Thought ya should know.”
Lily blinked slowly as that sank in. Her old boss. Luke. Her hand twitched immediately towards the barely healed marks on her arm as the color drained from her face. “Right,” she nodded once. What could he possibly do to her in a tavern full of people? It was safe. No reason to get hysterical. “Thanks.”
Greg nodded, his eyes still sharp as he studied her. Lily attempted a smile, but failed miserably, picking up a washcloth to distract herself.
“Miss!” a man with a thick beard and a handful of poker chips waved at her. “Two whiskeys, neat.”
She nodded in response to the order and reached for a glass, only to feel it slip through her fingers, shattering to pieces on the hardwood floor. For a moment, the urge to burst into tears was nearly overwhelming.
“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled as Tobias hurried to help.
“It’s all right,” the bartender waved it off, sharp eyes on her face. “Are you all right?”
Lily nodded, keeping her gaze on the shards of glass as she gathered them up. “I’m fine, I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, really,” Tobias repeated. He moved to bend down to help her, but a grimace of pain stopped him, and he paused. Tobias walked with a limp and carried a cane, but Lily didn’t know why, or what afflicted him.
“I’ve got it, it’s fine,” she said quickly, grabbing the last bit of glass and straightening. She didn’t want the kindly bartender hurting himself on her account. She conjured up a tight, false smile for him, and hurried to dispose of the glass’ remains.
It would be all right, it would be fine –
She dropped the bits of glass in the rubbish bin and turned back, wiping her shaking hands on her apron.
“Whiskey, straight.”
He was there.
Lily’s heart stalled and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. The whole world had contracted down to two pools of pure black. She was going to die, but first, there was going to be a great deal of pain.
Somehow, she felt herself nod and reach for the bottle. She could hit him with it if he so much as moved towards her. The bar was between him, she had a weapon, it was safe – she was all right. She poured the drink and slid it across the bar, tearing her gaze from his, wishing desperately for salvation. The room twirled and dipped around her, and she wondered if she were about to faint.
Then, before she could move, Forlani reached across the bar, grasping her wounded arm in a light grip, turning it over so that the scars - the marks he’d given her - were visible. She froze, unable to pull away.
“Dey’re healin’ up nice,” he commented, and the smug tone in his voice appalled her, galvanized her into action.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, yanking her arm from his grasp. Something ugly flared in his eyes, and Lily felt herself flinch, recognizing the look from that awful night, knowing it preceded horrible things. And yet, somehow, she couldn’t make herself turn away. Even as he reached across the bar again, catching her jaw in an iron hold as he leaned in.
“Don’t think,” Luke murmured, his lips next to her ear, his voice almost a caress, “I don’t know how much ya liked it.”
She felt the blood drain out of her face. But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t make herself look away.
“I think she’d rather you left her alone.” The cool, detached voice came from behind Forlani – one of the other employees, a young man who played poker for the house, they called him Straight. Straight McCoy.
Luke held her gaze for another moment, then released her and turned to the other man.
“I think ya’d better mind yer own business,” he said softly, lifting his whiskey glass to his lips. “We’re old pals.”
“It’s time for you to go,” Straight informed him. Lily was gripped with the insane urge to laugh. She’d never thought of herself as a helpless female, but what was this besides a white knight to her pathetic damsel in distress?
“But I ain’t finished me drink yet,” Forlani replied, gesturing with the glass. Someone touched her arm, and Lily jumped a mile, turning to see one of the regular customers, another young man – one whose name she didn’t know – looking at her expectantly.
“Can I get a tequila?” he asked quietly, and Lily blinked at him slowly. Could he – Oh.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, moving to get his drink, barely taking her eyes off the confrontation on the other side of the bar.
“Take your drink with you,” Straight was saying. There was danger in his cool, polite tone. Any fool could see that. But then, Luke was insane, what did he care for danger? This was going to get ugly, she just knew it.
Forlani chuckled - a horrible sound that sent goosebumps prickling over Lily’s skin – then turned, somehow shattering the whiskey tumbler in his hand and swiping at Straight with a jagged bit of glass. The other man ducked, but too late, and a spray of blood arced through the air.
Lily cried out in horror, but before she could do anything, the two men were facing each other again, both with guns pointing at the others’ faces.
There was dead silence in the Nickel.
“Hey fellas,” the customer who had ordered the tequila took a sip of his drink and spoke calmly into the void. “Not in front of the ladies.” God, he was smirking! If Lily had time to think about it, she might have admired his audacity.
“Now,” Luke said cheerfully, ignoring the other, his gaze locked to his opponent’s, “if yer all done messin’ in me business, I’d like ta have a word wit’ me former employee.” He paused and flicked a brief glance towards Greg, who had frozen halfway to them, obviously on his way to break up the confrontation. “If dat ain’t against house rules.”
No one spoke. Lily wasn’t sure if anyone was even breathing. Taking a deep breath of her own, she reached out and put her hand on the barrel of Luke’s gun. Neither Straight nor Forlani looked at her as she applied some pressure, just a bit, and Luke lowered his arm.
“If you all will excuse us,” she managed to say quietly. Straight didn’t move, his pistol still pointed into Forlani’s face. The brothel owner smirked and hiked a dark eyebrow, then turned to follow her out to the darkened alley outside the Nickel.
Lily stepped out into the cool night air, and for a moment, was certain that he was going to kill her then. Or at the very least, do something to hurt her. But he stood there, leaning against the brick wall, nearly invisible in the blackness.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come back here,” she managed to say, and was proud of how cool the words came out. Luke chuckled softly, and any bravado she might have felt fled at the sound. He took a step towards her and she flinched, backing away.
“Am I ta take it dat ya ain’t happy ta see me?” Forlani murmured, reaching out to tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Lily endured it, simply because she had nowhere to go.
“That’s one way to put it,” she replied quietly. Somehow, she had a feeling he wanted her to get wound up, demand that he leave her alone, make a big scene. She wouldn’t do it, she wouldn’t let him get his kicks from scaring her. “Please go away.”
“Please go away,” Forlani mimicked in a bad falsetto. “Lily, darlin’, you can do better den dat.”
She clenched her teeth and endured his touch as he traced the curve of her jaw and the line of her throat with a fingertip. “That’s all I have to say to you. Now, I have to get back to work.” She pushed against him, but he didn’t budge. “Move.”
“No,” Luke chuckled again, and Lily’s skin crawled with remembered pain at the tone in his voice.
“Move,” she repeated, and even in the darkness, she could see the smirk on his perfect features.
“What if I don’t wanna?”
“Move,” she said again, and to her amazement, he did, stepping back and away from her. Her knees nearly buckled in relief as she backed towards the Nickel’s entrance. “Don’t come back,” she added. Luke had already melted into the alleyway’s shadows, but she knew he was still there.
“Bye, Lily,” he murmured as she turned away. “See ya soon.”
She glanced back, but he really was gone now. The alley was empty. Lily gripped the edge of the doorway and struggled to keep her legs under her. He was gone, it was all right. Everything would be all right.
See ya soon.
to be continued . . .