I knew I was being reckless. For a moment I thought of Des pointing out a woman on the street once, when she saw me staring at the strange scars on her face. “Acid,” she said. “She got together with the wrong man and now look at her. She’ll have his marks on her until the day she dies.” Her skin looked like it had melted into itself, the glazed-looking scars, the tragic air that hovered around her because she still carried herself as though nothing about her had changed. And then I thought, So what, and reached for the handle of the passenger’s side door. I had been dreaming of oranges that week, oranges heavy with juice, on the knife’s edge between ripeness and rot like the ones that my mother said splashed into the swimming pool outside of her guesthouse. It felt like a sign—I would rot if I stayed in town any longer. My life would have to get uglier, messier, before it would be clean and bright—I would need to do whatever it took to be free.

“Sure,” I told him, making my voice husky and low. But I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder before I got in, and now I really knew what those girls felt, the ones I had watched all my life. How they probably wanted one last fresh breath of air, one more moment to arrange their face before surrendering themselves to someone else.

HIS CAR smelled like cologne and peppermint candy. He tried to act calm but he was nervous—he gave it away in the way he kept scratching at the side of his nose.

“What do you have there?” he asked. I held up the doll. He laughed so hard he sprayed spit all over my arm. “A whore with a fucking doll. This place is too damn much.” Yeah, I thought. I feel the same way.

He drove to the parking garage at Bally’s, a shady spot on the upper level. He reclined his seat, unzipped his pants, closed his eyes. When I hesitated, he took me by the hair and pushed my mouth toward his crotch.

When it was over, he gave me a hundred bucks. Up to $350—$1,650 and then I’d never have to do any of this again. He didn’t offer to drive me anywhere, so I got out in the parking garage. I was studying the constellation of old chewing gum at my feet when he called to me.