matured to realize that sleeping in a car in a drugstore parking lot or my mother’s physical and mental deterioration wasn’t normal, I committed to never becoming her. But moments like this remind me that I’m not far removed from that life.
“We’ve arrived.” The cabbie stops the meter.
Leaving more cash on the seat, I hurry from the cab and run from this night and my past. The moment I make it through my front door, tears spill from my eyes and I bend over to cry out for some relief. I lock the deadbolt to keep the nightmares from breaking in and flip on every single light to keep them from hiding in dark corners.
I undress on my way to my bedroom, dropping the dress to my feet and leaving it in the hallway. Flashes of myself fucking truckers in dirty bathrooms coincide with Talent kissing my throat, pushing himself inside of me … making me come. The first girl was dirty, desperate, and frantic. The girl with Talent was eager and ignorant. How easily the two became one.
This is why I don’t break my own fucking rules.
I drop to my knees in front of the toilet and vomit as fear and loneliness sneak up on me. The memory of strange men touching my bare skin, whispering to me with alcoholic breath—the price for a ride to the next town or a bite to eat. Then, the warmth that poured over me when I stepped into Talent’s office, like that level of comfortableness could ever exist as far as I’m concerned. His electrified touch was the price of serenity. A too expensive reality check.
Once my stomach’s empty, I crawl into the shower and hug my knees to my chest while scorching water rains down on me. I sob. It’s overdue and weakness I’ve kept pent up for too long. Despite my better judgment, I allowed Inez to guilt me into a job I knew to avoid. Men like Talent have too much to lose and resources deeming them untouchable. How thoughtless it was for him to fuck me on his desk, only to deny hiring me in the first place. He was safe at the top of his empire, and I was reduced to being judged by a cab driver.
I predict he’s cozy in his lavish home, secure in his airtight significance, where I’m fading to nothing more than an afterthought. And here I am, crying like a chump under cooling water, faced with the certainty of how quickly everything I’ve worked for can disappear.
I’m the fatherless daughter of a stripper, without a formal education, left to fend for herself at sixteen years old. My existence is lonely, but it’s more than I ever imagined for myself. That’s what upset me the most about tonight. For a fleeting moment, I forgot where I came from and allowed myself to be swept away by Talent’s easy smile and warm caress. The temporary reprieve made reality hard to swallow when it rushed back in rejection.
Fuck Talent Ridge.
An heir with a silver spoon in his mouth doesn’t get to judge me because I was damned with a shitty stack of cards at birth.
Ending this pity party, I turn the shower off and pull my silk rope from the hook on the back of the door. After the emotional exorcism I’ve experienced, I don’t have the energy to dry myself off first. It clings to my skin, becoming heavy as the thin material soaks up beads of water from my hair. My eyes are swollen, oxygen enters my lungs in quick gasps, and my limbs are heavy. Instead of falling into bed, I shuffle to the kitchen and open the freezer where a bottle of vodka vows a dreamless sleep.
There’s no need for a glass. I drink it straight from the bottle, staring at my clutch and keys sprawled across the counter. Vodka delivers on its promise right away, lifting my burdens from my shoulders and luring me to sleep. Screwing the top back on the glass bottle, I decide to send Inez a text before I pass out. She doesn’t need to know the grueling details right away, but I’m surprised she hasn’t called for an update yet.
That’s when I realize my phone isn’t in my clutch and I remember when it fell to the floor in Talent’s office.
I didn’t pick it up in my haste to get out.
It’s still there.
“Fuck.”
Camilla’s behind the reception desk at Hush, like she’s never left, like she