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“You have one in there?”

“One what?”

Jerry scowls. “You know what I mean. Don’t be so dumb.” “Go away, Jerry.” I move to close the door but he sticks the butt end of something in so I can’t. It’s a baseball bat. “Let me see it.”

“I don’t know—”

He uses the bat for leverage and simply rips the chain off the door, pushing it all the way open and me out of the way. Opal screams as Jerry jumps through the doorway. He looks toward the noise.

My mom gets up from the couch, also turning toward the sound.

“Holy crap, you really do have one!” Jerry looks both fascinated and disgusted.

“Get out of here! You can’t barge in here like that, it’s not your business!” I jump in front of Jerry.

He barely even looks at me, just pushes me down. Hard. I stumble back and land on my butt on the floor with enough force to bring tears of pain to my eyes. I bite my tongue and the taste of blood makes me choke.

Opal screams, crying, a long, rambling string of words I didn’t know she knew and should yell at her for using. Jerry laughs and ignores her. His gaze is focused on our mom.

“Wow. That’s your mom, huh? You really brought her here? Is it true, they put shock collars on them to keep them from acting crazy?”

I get to my feet, rubbing my butt. “Jerry, go home. This isn’t your business, you jerk!”

“Oh, it’s my business. You bring one of those things in here to our building, you’re right across from me and mom, I say it’s my business.”

When I was a freshman, Jerry was a senior. He’d had the habit of slamming people’s books out of their hands as he passed, then kicking them down the hall before they could be picked up. He was the sort of guy who’d write your name on the bathroom wall or make up a nickname based on your acne.

He was also the sort of guy who’d kick a person to death. He’d saved me, but I couldn’t make myself be grateful to him for it. Now he was looking at my mom with a gleam in his muddy eyes I didn’t like at all.

“Just let me see it. The collar, I mean.” He put the bat down, at least.

“NO!”

The look he gives me is strangely patient. “Velvet. That’s a stupid name, you know that? Vellll-vet. Why didn’t they call you Cotton, Corduroy, or something like that?”

“You’re a jerk!” Opal shouts. Her tears have subsided. I think she was scared about him breaking in that way, but seeing it’s only Jerry has calmed her. “Jerry Jerk!

That’s you!”

“Ah, shut up, midget.” Jerry’s not paying attention to her. Only to our mom. “Let me see the collar. That’s all.”

“If we do, will you get out of here?” I limp when I walk, that’s how bad my butt hurts. “And I’m complaining to the landlord, too, about the lock. You’re going to pay for that.”

“No, I’m not.” Jerry’s flat gaze fixes on me. His smile doesn’t reach it. “I figure I don’t really owe you anything, do I?”

I don’t like that smile. The way Jerry looks me over, like he’s imagining me naked, gives me the creeps. I don’t want him to tell Opal about the Connie in the laundry room. I don’t want him to tell anyone. He killed a person, and I was there, and I didn’t call the police.

“Don’t show him, Velvet! Don’t do it!” Opal’s braver than I am. Or younger.

“It’s okay, Opal. He’s going to look and then leave, right?” I fix him with a hard glare.

Jerry shrugs. “Sure, right. I’ll just look and leave. Sure.”

Throughout all of this, my mom had started moving slowly toward Opal, but now she’s stopped a few steps away. It’s easy enough for me to unbutton the first few buttons on her blouse and fold the fabric to the sides so Jerry can get a look at the collar. He pushes me out of the way.

“That’s it?” He sounds disappointed.

“What did you expect? Something with leather and spikes?” He disgusts me.

Jerry reaches out a dirty finger to touch the thin plastic. “That’s, like, nothing. How can that do anything?”

My mom doesn’t flinch at his touch, but just because she can’t react doesn’t mean she should have to put up with his touch. I push Jerry to the side and start to button her blouse again. “You’ve seen it. Now get lost.”

“Where are the wires?”

“It’s wireless, you idiot!” I face him, with my mom behind me. “Like your cell phone. God, you’re a foron. Would you get out of here now?”

“I want to know how it works.” His eyes are gleaming.

“It sends electrical impulses at set intervals into her brain, Jerry.” The words taste bad.

“So it shocks her? Coooooool.” Jerry laughs.

I smack him across the face as hard as I can. So hard, it rocks his head, and he stumbles a few steps back. I advance, my vision going a little hazy in my fury.

“It’s not cool, you jerk! That’s my mom you’re talking about!”

In the movies, Jerry would cower in front of me and slink away. Of course he doesn’t. He’s thirty pounds heavier and six inches taller than me, and he’s a bully. Jerry doesn’t slap my face; he punches it.

I’m ready for it, though. I know enough to expect it. Instead of catching me in the mouth or nose, his punch lands on my cheek hard enough to make me momentarily blind with pain. It passes, though, and I’m turning back to him.

Things always change, no matter whether it’s because the world ends around you or it just moves on. Two years ago, I wouldn’t have known how to hit another person so hard, it splits my knuckles. Now I do.

I also kick him in the nuts, but Jerry’s obviously been kicked in the balls a few too many times, because he’s able to deflect my foot. He grabs it, yanking. I hit the floor.

I become aware that Opal’s screaming and crying again. I hear another sound, too. A low, groaning grunt. Guttural and raw.

Jerry and I both turn to see my mom, fists clenched, face contorted. She’s still behind the couch and can’t get at him, though she’s making her slow and steady way toward us. She hits the coffee table and knocks it out of place. She keeps coming.

Jerry lets go of my foot. “Come on, then! Come on, you Connie piece of crap!”

He bounces on his feet, jabbing the air like a boxer while I struggle to my feet. My entire body throbs after this second time hitting the floor. My cheek is already swelling. I think I feel a loose tooth. “Mom, it’s okay.”

Jerry starts shouting. Nothing coherent, just angry sounds. He grabs up the bat and smashes it into the back of the couch a few times. My mom follows the motion with her head, then looks up at him. She sees him.

I know she does. Jerry sees it, too. But this is the guy who pulled a Connie off me and kicked it until it couldn’t get up any longer. He’s not afraid of my mom.

“How’s that collar work, huh? How’s it work?” He’s grinning. Spit flies from his mouth. He punches the air. My mom keeps moving. “Mom, no!”

Jerry shouts again. She moves faster. Her hands clench and unclench. She’s coming after him, and he’s doing everything he can to make her.

Jerry reaches for me, yanks me up by the front of my shirt. He shakes me until my teeth rattle. “Lookit what I got, you Connie scum! See? I got your girl, here! What’re you gonna do about that? Nothing, right? You don’t even know her, you don’t even care! What if I do something like this, huh?”

He smashes his mouth down on mine before I know how to stop him. It’s the last thing I expected. His tongue tries to wedge between my teeth and I pull away, spitting and flailing while Jerry laughs.

My mom pushes past Opal. She’s around the couch now, moving faster without the barriers in her way. She’s almost on him when it happens.

She doesn’t just twitch, the way she did in the bathroom. She jerks. Spasms. Her arms flail, wild. She stumbles forward.