assumed I didn’t have the same struggles they did. No. I wasn’t out fucking to pay my rent, but I was a slave to the Guerreros just as much as they were.
Though she wasn’t completely wrong. In a lot of ways, I was a princess. But only because I had a direct line to the king. It would cost me. Dearly. But for Savannah…
Holding Chrissy’s challenging stare, I called out the open door, “Hey, Angela!”
“Yeah, Cor,” she answered immediately, proving that our altercation would be today’s first stop for the gossip train.
“Do me a favor and help Savannah back up to my place?”
“Yeah, no problem,” she chirped, eager for the opportunity to help.
Flashing Chrissy one last smile—and I do mean one last smile—I exited her apartment, lighter than I’d felt in weeks.
I hadn’t made it more than two steps before someone was calling my name.
“Cora, there’s water leaking through my ceiling.”
And someone else. “Cora, Hugo isn’t answering his cell.”
Annnnd someone else. “Cora, I want that lying bitch Ava out of my apartment!”
“Cora…”
“Cora…”
“Cora…”
It was never ending.
Closing my eyes, I made my way up the stairs, mentally prioritizing the morning’s list of dramas. It was always the same order of importance: Safety. Structural. Sanity. With no one’s life in immediate danger, first up was the flooding.
On a sigh, I asked the group, “Where’s Hugo?”
Three different voices replied in unison, “Kerri’s.”
Someone else added, “Though I don’t think I’d go in there unless you want an up-close-and-personal of Hugo’s hairy ass.”
I froze midstep, a vise in my chest cranking down as I turned around. “Come again?”
It was New Girl—Christ, I really had to learn her name—who pushed to the front of the pack and answered, “Cora, seriously? I know I haven’t been here long, but none of our air conditioners work. And you think Hugo got off his lazy ass at seven in the morning to fix Kerri’s? I’m sorry. I know my apartment is flooding and all, but I will grow a set of fins and a pair of gills before I get on my knees for that fat, sweaty pig.”
I was twenty-nine years old and I’d been in the sex industry for fourteen years. Nothing should have shocked me anymore. Especially not a man manipulating a woman to get his rocks off. That was a given. Yet I still asked, “Why the hell would you have to get on your knees?”
She glanced around at the other girls. “Uh…because it’s the only way you can get him to fix anything.”
I blinked at them, completely and utterly shocked.
They all blinked back, completely and utterly shocked that I was shocked.
Shit. They thought I knew. And worse: that I’d actually allowed it to happen.
The air in my lungs turned toxic, and my head began to pound.
Every day.
Every night.
That was my life.
The stress, the responsibility, the failure.
The weight of being everything for everyone was suffocating. The desperate desire to give up taunted me with every sunrise. But this wasn’t a life I could just walk away from. Trust me. I’d tried.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I stared up at the concrete breezeway, pleading for help that was never going to come.
At least not for me.
“Cora?”
My eyes snapped open and I found River standing on the stairs, a mug of coffee stretched out in my direction.
“Water’s coming through the wall in our kitchen,” she said nonchalantly. “I threw some towels down. But you might want to get Hugo up there soon.”
I searched her eyes for any clue that she knew that Hugo’s preferred currency was a blow job. Thankfully, I found none.
I’d done what I could to keep her in school and away from the rest of the bullshit, but she was far from innocent. Her brown hair was tied up in messy bun, and she was wearing a backpack over a pair of stylishly tattered jeans and a loose T-shirt that read I really don’t care. That young, sweet girl was being raised by what most of America would call the dregs of society. Whores. Hookers. Prostitutes. Whatever the new term of the week was. But we were all just people stuck in a shitty situation with no one else to lean on.
Except they all leaned on me.
Suddenly, I remembered why I sacrificed my soul on a daily basis.
Because I hoped like hell they wouldn’t have to.
After drawing in a deep breath that rejuvenated not only my burning lungs, but also my resolve, I took the coffee from her hand and announced, “Savannah’s fine.”
“I heard.” Her