Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten


A month seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Rosalie was easy to live with. She didn’t ask questions about where I came from or why I’d been living on the streets. I knew she wanted to know, I could see countless questions burning in her soft brown eyes. I had all the freedoms a girl my age could possibly want. I was allowed to come and go as I pleased, as long as I didn’t bring trouble home with me.
I came and went, but only during the day and never far from home. I was a little worried about running into the man Rosalie called Papa and without her to protect me I wasn’t sure what he would do if we met again.
Kandace was a different story. She was cold and short with me, never saying more than a word or two to me whenever we were in the same room. In a lot of ways she was like Jessica. Never giving me more than an inch and never friendly. She never acted this way in front of Rosalie; I think she knew Rosalie wouldn’t approve of her behavior.
The pair of them kept pretty odd hours. It was a daily surprise each morning when I woke up. It was like playing the lottery. I could either wake up to a breakfast of piping hot scrambled eggs and buttered toast – the scent of which would make my mouth water like garden hose. The alternative to scrambled eggs was a sweet little note propped against the salt shaker. The first time I woke to an empty apartment, I found the note propped against a box of Fruit Loops, my favorite cereal. I picked it up and read it, the scent of Rosalie’s perfume, overly sweet, clung to the thin scrap of paper.
It seemed like they were always coming and going, and the phone, it never stopped ringing. My first day here Rosalie gave me strict rules to never, under any circumstances answer the phone. I admit I was curious, curious about who was calling, and even more curious about how they earned a living; but if that was all she was going ask of me then it was the least I could do for her.
I asked Rosalie about it once, she patted my head like I was an adorable puppy, then flashed me her million dollar smile and sweetly said, “Don’t you worry your gorgeous little head about that.”
So I let it go. I was curious, but figured like all things, I’d figure it out eventually and that satisfied my curiosity. Not to mention I had a good thing going here. I had food in my stomach, clothes on my back and a roof that was made up of more than just a piece of flimsy cardboard, over my head.
Rosalie had even gotten me signed up to take my GED, and was helping me study for it. School had been the furthest thing on my mind when I decided to run away. Apparently, not much of anything had been, but that didn’t matter now. I wanted to finish high school, not finishing was not an option I wanted to consider and now it wouldn’t be. I would finish high school, maybe even go on to college. And it was all because of Rosalie.
I looked up from the book I was studying, glancing out the window at the grey November day. Below, the wind whipped leaves into a frenzy, chasing them down the side walk. I was thankful to be inside, comfortable in a sweatshirt and jeans. My stomach rumbled, causing me to glance at the clock. It was past lunch time. Setting the book down, I moved into the kitchen, building the sandwich of all sandwiches in my head. I’d just completed my masterpiece when a knock sounded at the door.
My stomach dropped like a stone, my hand frozen above the sink. The knock sounded again. My pulse rushed in my ears as I quietly set the knife into the sink. Chewing my lower lip I stepped into the living room. Rosalie had made it understood I was not to answer the phone, but she’d said nothing about the door. Of course, if I couldn’t answer the phone, then answering the door should have been obvious. The knocker tried again, making it apparent they weren’t backing down easily. What if it was something important? What if Rosalie was expecting something and forgot to tell me?
I moved toward the door before I could second guess myself, disengaged the deadbolt and pulled the door open slowly. The chain lock caught and I peered out.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hello.” A man’s voice answered. He looked to be in his middle years, with dark brown hair and blue eyes set in tanned skin. His teeth were too white and his suit pressed. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as his eyes moved over my face through the small opening.
“You must be new. I’ve not seen you before.” His voice was soft, cautious, that of someone speaking to a small and frightened animal. “Kandace around?”
“She’s unavailable at the moment, can I take a message?” My voice sounded strong, controlled, even though the rest of me was shaking under his scrutiny.
“Damn, I was hoping to catch her. I’m a regular. Brice Hayward.” He flashed a smile at me, as if that explained everything. “Are you taking clients? You have amazing eyes.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. It took every ounce of control I had not to slam the door in his face. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I knew I wanted him gone. I’d seen that raw hunger in the eyes of too many men in my life.
“I’ll tell Kandace you stopped by.” I slammed the door on his objection. The deadbolt slid home with a satisfying click.
I’d done it. I’d talked to a man. Yes, my hands were shaking and I wanted to throw up, but I’d held my own. I hadn’t crumpled. Something inside of me flared to life, glowing warm and bright, a feeling of…could it be pride?
I skipped back into the kitchen, collecting my sandwich. I ate by the window, watching the world pass by below me.

**********


Dusk crept across the sky, slowly claiming the last ounces of color from her breast. I’d been alone all day. I moved, ghost like, through the condo. It was rare for both Rosalie and Kandace to leave me alone all day, and I was beginning to feel lonely.
Loneliness and boredom lead to worry, the nagging feeling gnawing away at my gut. What if something happened to them, how would I know? No one would even think to notify me. I could sit here for days and never know. The police would be barreling down the front door, searching for clues into Rosalie and Kandace's life, and then I’d know for sure.
I stood before the fridge not really seeing the garish magnets or notes taped to it. In my head I saw macabre images, bloodied and broken body parts lying discarded in the gutter. I was so swept up with my grim musings that when the deadbolt clacked open, startling me. I whipped around in time to see Kandace storming through the door like a beautiful tornado.
She flew towards me, her eyes narrowed angrily. “Are you stealing my clients,” she shouted.
I stared stupidly at her. What the hell was she talking about? “Your clients?” I asked.
“Don’t play dumb with me you little…” She shoved her finger in my face, her long acrylic nails like a fancy talon waving before my nose.
“Look, Kandace I don’t know what you’re talking about. A man came by and asked for you, but I said you weren’t here and asked to take a message. I didn’t do anything other than that.”
She eyed me dubiously, expecting me to crack under her scrutiny. I stared back, defiant. I didn’t do anything wrong and I wasn’t going to admit otherwise. I think she saw that, the resilience in my stance, in my eyes and backed off.
“From now on,” she hissed, “Don’t answer the damn door.”
I watched Kandace turn on her heel and stalk off down the hall. Her bedroom door slammed shut, the framed photos on the walls bounced and slammed back then all was silent again.
I went back to the window and sat down, staring out at the street below. Harried people the size of ants rushed to and fro across the sidewalk in the twilight.
I wondered where Rosalie was, when she was coming home. The book I’d been studying earlier was still lying face up on the coffee table. I sank down, picking it up as I fell into the sofa.
The tiny print on the page blurred as I stared at it, my mind wandering. I glanced at the clock, then back down at the page, trying to concentrate. I re-read the same paragraph again for the fourth time then gave up, tossing the book back on the coffee table. It landed with a loud thump as the pages fluttered.
I clicked the television on, searching for something to watch. I stopped on what looked like an interesting movie. Lying down, I tucked a throw pillow under my head and lost myself in the movie wondering when Rosalie would be home.
The soft click of heels and whispered conversation woke me. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. My neck was stiff from sleeping on the couch, and my hand tingled from where it must have hung off the edge. I stood, stretching out most of the kinks. I could hear Rosalie and Kandace in the kitchen. I could just barely make out their conversation but it sounded heated. I crept over to the bar, keeping low.
“No! No. Not while she’s here.” Rosalie whispered fiercely.
“We have to! She’ll be fine, you can speak to her! Besides we don’t have a choice. It’s our job. I’ve already spoken to Mandi and Adelle. They’re good to go tomorrow night. I say we set it up.”
Rosalie and Kandace stared at each for a long moment, eyes flashing.
“Fine. Make the call.” Rosalie sighed, running her fingers through her hair as Kandace danced around her.
“What’s going on?” My voice sounded small, scared.
“Nothing, nina. Come, I need to talk to you.” Rosalie shot Kandace a look, moving toward me. Her arm wrapped around my shoulders as she led me to my bedroom. Her perfume washed over me, calming me.
“Sit, querida.” Rosalie clicked on my light and sat on the end of my bed. She looked tired, worn out even. I gasped in shock when I noticed the puffiness of her lips, the faint bruise at her neck.
“Rosalie?” My heart thumped in my chest as I hopped off the bed. I pointed at her neck, words leaving me. My finger shook as my eyes watered. I love this woman. She took care of me. This couldn’t be happening.
“Be calm, querida. It’s nothing. Armand got a little rough. I’m fine.” She placed her hand on my arm, guiding me back to the bed. Her brown eyes were warm and full of love as she looked at me.
“What’s going on, Rosalie?”
“Ashley, there’s nothing for you to worry about. Kandace and I need to throw a little party. It’s for our clients.” Her eyes were steady on mine as she brushed the hair from my face. There was something hidden in those chocolate depths.
“Your clients?” Confused, I lifted my hand to my head. I felt as if the world was spinning. Pieces were beginning to click together, though I didn’t want to believe them. The phone calls, the odd hours.
“Ashley, Kandace and I …We’re call escorts. And every so often we host a client mixer. It’s a way to bring in new clients and make our regulars feel important. You're too young to be exposed to this life. I want you to stay in your room. Can you do that for me?"
“I’m not a child, Rosalie. I think I’m old enough o go to a party!”
“That’s not it at all. These people, these men, they’re no good, querida.”
She took my hand, but I yanked it away, rising from the bed to pace. I shook my head, balling my fists as I turned back to her.
“If they’re so bad why are you with them?” I accused. I flinched as pain bloomed in her eyes. It made me realize I didn’t know as much about her as I wanted to believe.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you, hermana. Believe me, if I could change it, I would. But this is my life. And I have to make the best of it.” She rose, moving toward the door. “Do this for me, el amor.”
I watched her leave, anger and guilt warring in my heart. Who was she to tell me what I could and couldn’t do? Who was I to cut her so deeply? Groaning I threw myself onto the bed, burying my face into a pillow I let out a muffled scream. Feeling slightly better, I rested my head on my arms and stared at the clock on the wall. I would do as she asked, if only because she was my savior and deserved that much.
The seconds ticked away, and sleep crept in. Soft conversation lulled me, and I blinked into unconsciousness.

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Night came quickly, bringing with it a bitter chill. I dug into my bag, fishing out my sweater. I stared at the measly amount of clothes stored there. I wished now I'd planned better, but I hadn't expected Caroline to turn on me.

Shoving my hands in my pockets I kept moving. If I stopped for too long I would freeze. Panic tickled my gut; I squashed it down but couldn't quite stop the thoughts.

Where was I going to sleep? The sandwich and chips from Caroline were long gone and my stomach was making noises. I wrapped my arms around myself, fighting back tears. How had I gotten to this point? Scared, alone, with no one to turn to and nowhere to go.

My stomach rumbled again, painfully this time. I wished fervently I'd taken some food, some money. I thought of all the money I had tucked safely away in the bank. Untouchable without a parent or guardian. My mother's legacy all but lost to me now.

The wind kicked up, the cold sneaking into the fibers of by sweater. I had to find somewhere to go, somewhere to get out of the cold. I blinked, looking around for the first time, slightly surprised to find myself at the opening of an alleyway. The alley was close and dark, removed from the glow of the street lamps. But it was closed on three sides, offering protection from the wind. Biting down on my shame I moved into the alley, feeling instantly warmer.

An overflowing dumpster cast its stench into the night. The smell made me gag, but maybe it would keep others at bay. Something hanging over the side of the dumpster caught my attention. I didn't dare to hope as I moved cautiously toward the dumpster. A small sardonic laugh escaped my lips as my fingers closed over the blanket. It was thin, but whole. Greedily I yanked it from the smelly confines and wrapped it around me. Surprisingly it smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. I looked around for a place to sleep, my eyes were heavy and I could barely stand.

A large cardboard box caught my eye, seeming to call to me, offering shelter. Climbing into it I snuggled into the blanket, staring out at the sidewalk. A hysterical laugh bubbled up and out. Tears streamed down my cheeks as my laughter reverberated off the stone walls. Laughter dissolved into quiet sobbing. Pulling the blanket over my head I shut out the world and cried myself to sleep.

**********

"Good morning D.C! It's a beautiful Monday morning. Highs today look like they're going to be in the lower 60's, with lows dipping down into the 50's."

I let the weather mans voice faded into the background as I sipped a glass of water. Was it really Monday again? Had it been that long already? I'd been living in my box for two weeks now, if the smiling weather man was to be believed about the date.

My stomach rumbled, but I was used to it. It had taken me the better part of a week to find this place. It was a perfect little place, they never asked questions and the water was free, so I wasn't going to die of dehydration. The fact that they were twenty four hour was a major bonus.

Weather gave way to sports and soon the TV was lost to the sounds of a morning commute. The scent of bacon and coffee soon filled the diner, stirring my stomach. I clamped down on my hunger, willing myself to ignore it. The man next to me grumbled over something in the paper, threw some bills onto the counter and walked out. Two strips of bacon and a piece of toast lay untouched on his plate.

Saliva pooled in my mouth as I stared at the plate. Six inches, that's all I would have to move. My fingers itched. I didn't move. Even desperate and starving I couldn't steal. My stomach roared in protest at my decision. Forcing myself I looked away from the food and took another sip of water. This time my stomach revolted. The pain was almost more than I could bear. Just a bit longer, I thought, another hour and all would be fine.

The scrape of a plate and flat ware caused me to look down, before me sat a plate of eggs and bacon. Shocked I looked up into the smiling face of Eddie, owner and cook.

"I-I can't pay for this." I whispered, not daring to hope.

"Hate to see food go to waste." He grumbled, shuffling back to the grill. I watched as he expertly flipped pancakes and turned bacon.

A glass of orange juice was set beside my plate by a manicured hand. I looked up into another smiling face. This one belonged to Kim, a girl around Jessica's age. Her honey colored hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She was pretty, even the garish orange diner shirt couldn't hide that.

"Better eat up, darling. Eddie don't do that for everyone, now." White teeth flashed before she moved down the bar refilling drinks.

Lifting my fork I speared a bite of egg. It practically melted on my tongue. Eddie winked at my soft sigh. I smiled at him, biting into a crisp strip of bacon. Somehow I felt I'd made a friend.

I ate slowly, savoring every bite, and yet it was gone before I knew it. I whiles away the afternoon in a back booth with the crossword and soap operas. I was pondering five down when Kim placed a ham sandwich before me. She didn't say a word, just set the plate and a glass of milk before me and walked away with a smile.

It continued on like that, Kim silently bringing me food through the night. The daytime dramas turned to prime time news. I watched the street lamps winking to life and thought of my alleyway and box. Tonight was going to be cold, and I was dreading leaving the warmth and comfort of the diner. I feared pushing Eddie's kindness more.

Sighing I lifted my backpack and made my way to the front of the diner.

"Thank you," I mumbled to Eddie, leaning against the bar. I wasn't sure if he'd heard me. I thought I saw his head bob, but I wasn't sure. I nodded to Kim, then stepped out of the diner, the silver bells above the door sounding my exit.

The cold took my breath away. I couldn't wait to get to my blanket. I scanned the sidewalk quickly for quarters. I had fifty cents in my pocket. I needed two dollars at least, then I would be able to wash my clothes. It would do little good as I would still be unclean, but I couldn't stand the smell.

"Wait!"

I turned, fear gripping my stomach. Kim stepped out of the diner holding a jacket.

"Someone left this here a few months back. It's too small for me and Eddie said to get rid of it. Maybe it'll fit you?"

Tears stung my eyes as I took the heavy winter jacket. How could I have gotten so lucky as to meet these people? All the diners in the city and I somehow managed to pick the right one.

“Thank you,” I whispered, slipping into the coat. It was a high quality jacket; grey in color and filled with goose down. Whoever left it would be missing it, I knew I would have. It was a little big, but it was warm and comfortable.

Kim smiled at me, her eyes full of questions I knew she would never ask, then turned and walked back into the diner.

I watched her go. I wasn’t ready to go back to my alley. I longed for the comforts of home. Were they still searching for me? My heart clenched at the thought of Margret. She would cry over me, I was sure. Deep down she knew the truth, but she was blinded by a mother’s love. I couldn’t fault her for that.

My breath steamed out before me as I walked the lonely streets. I shoved my hands into the pockets of the jacket, thankful for the warmth. My mind wandered as I walked, not paying attention to the world around me.

“Hey, Darlin’. Need a warm bed for the night?”

I jumped, my heart clutching as the slurred voice split the night. My eyes fell on a man leaning against a door frame. His jeans were torn and dirty and unbuttoned at the waist. His shirt too was unbuttoned and open, offering a fair glimpse of sallow looking skin. He leaned forward, waggling his eyebrows at me. “Come ‘er little darlin’, I got some candy for ya.”

He lurched out of the doorway, stumbling toward me. I froze. My heart sped in my chest, threatening to break free. I knew I should run, I wanted to, yet I was rooted to the spot. The stench of unwashed man wrapped around me, invading me, causing me to gag.

“Back off, Papa. You’re out of line.” The sultry voice flowed out into the night, wrapping around me like a balm and pulling me from my stupor. I looked up into a pair of startling amber eyes. She walked toward me, black leather and lace clinging to her body. Orange hair hung in ringlets, bouncing off her shoulders. She was sex personified.

I stared, I couldn’t help it. I knew my mouth was hanging open. I’d never seen anyone like her. She stopped before me, looking down at me. Her eyes were kind, and she smelled of mint and jasmine, a strangely intoxicating scent. The man she’d called Papa cursed softly, then retreated into his house, muttering.

“What are you doing out so late, honey?”

It took a moment of working my jaw before words formed. “Just walking.”

“Mmhmm,” She didn’t sound convinced as she looked up and down the empty street. “You’re alone aren’t ya?”

I bit my lower lip and looked down. My chest hurt from my heart slamming against my ribs. I just wanted to feel safe again. I just wanted to be warm again.

“Come with me.” She wrapped her hand around my arm and pulled me along with her. I had to quicken my steps to keep pace with her long stride. Before long we came to a brick building. I caught glimpses of what I could as she tugged me inside. Laughter and the scent of alcohol filtered down to me as we climbed the stairs. She stopped at a door and smiled at me.

“In you go.”

The apartment was larger than I’d expected. The furnishings were mostly second hand, but beautiful. A long white couch dominated the main room, accented with deep purple pillows. A bright blue throw clung to a hunter green chair opposite the couch. The room smelled of unknown spices, and offered an unexpected warmth.

“Welcome to my home.”

“I don’t even know you’re name.” I stood just inside the door, afraid to move.

“I’m Rosalie.” She smiled at me, unwinding a scarf from her neck. The color was the same tone as her hair, and that was funny for some reason. She pulled off her leather jacket, revealing a low cut black top. Bright orange straps peaked out from under her arms. She watched me as she sat on a bar stool and pulled off her boots.

“I know you,” I stepped forward, looking closer. “I’ve seen you before. It was morning, and you were arguing with a man.”

Rosalie laughed the sound a sweet tinkle that filled the room. She laughed with her whole body. I liked that.

“That must have been Armand. We have a volatile relationship.” She looked at me, leaning her elbows on her knees. “I still don’t know your name.”

“Ashley, Ashley Jones.”

“Ashley, welcome.” She stood and walked around the bar into the kitchen. I followed, not wanting to be left alone. I sat on one of the bar stools, almost sighing as my butt sank into the soft cushion.

“Are you thirsty?” Rosalie called over her shoulder as she pulled open the door of the refrigerator. Saliva pooled in my mouth as I caught sight of a fully stocked fridge.

“Jesus, Rose. Did you pick up another stray?”

I jerked around, almost toppling off the bar stool. A young woman in her mid twenties walked into the room. She wore a tight blue sweater and white mini skirt. Her blonde hair fell in golden waves around her face, framing it perfectly. Her blue eyes were hard and suspicious as they locked on me, pinning me in place, before they moved on to Rosalie.

“Back off K, you were a stray at one time too.” Rosalie came around the bar and handed me a glass of milk. Her tone was light, playful, and yet firm. She was an interesting combination of the two. I was glad I’d met Rosalie first.

The blonde woman tossed her hair moving toward me. She was chewing gum, and the fruity scent wafted toward me. Offering her hand, she blew a large bubble, then popped it.

“Kandace.”

“Ashley,” I muttered, shaking her hand.

“Mine’s the blue room. Stay out of it.” And with that she was gone.

I stared after her, jolting at the sound of a door snapping shut.

“Don’t pay Kandace any attention, querida. She’s always prickly when meeting new people.”

Lifting the glass I took a long drink, the coolness of the milk soothing my nerves.

“Don’t worry, querida, you’re safe here.”

I looked up at her, trying to understand her. She didn’t know me at all and yet here she was opening her home and her life to me.

“Why did you bring me here? You don’t know me. I could kill you both in your sleep and take your valuables.” My voice rose with hysteria, my hands shook, sloshing milk from my glass.

“Shh, hush now, querida.” Rosalie took the glass and set it down on the bar, then gathered me into her arms. A great sob escaped my lips and I clung to her, breathing in her scent. Mint and jasmine.

“I’m not afraid of you, querida. You won’t harm us. And you’re right, I don’t know you, but everyone has a story. Should you choose to tell me, I’ll listen. But I’ll never pry.”

There was something about Rosalie that seemed to calm my soul. We sat on the couch, talking and sharing cookies until the first faint hues of pink began to paint the sky. With my stomach full and my soul satisfied, Rosalie led me to the spare bedroom.

“I always knew I would need the extra space. I’ve had a few other pass through for a few nights, but it’s been empty for about a month now.” She moved into the room, flipping on the light and stepping aside so I could come in.

The room was beautiful, yet simple. The full size bed was draped with a deep blue bedspread; sunny yellow sheets peaked out at me. There was a small desk on the left side of the room, a dresser with vanity mirror, and a small closet. I frowned inwardly; my clothes wouldn’t even fill half a drawer. The paint on the walls was a sunny yellow, and made me smile.

“You just stay here as long as you want, querida.” Rosalie stepped up behind me, resting her hands on my shoulders.

“Thank you, Rosalie.” I whispered, undone by her kindness. Maybe, even after all I’d been through, someone was watching out for me. Whether it was God or not, I couldn’t say, but maybe, just maybe, things were beginning to look up.

“If you need anything, just let me know. My room is straight down the hall.” She offered me a cheery smile, despite the lateness of the hour.

“Rosalie? Could I maybe, take a shower?” I chewed my lower lip and barely resisted the urge to twist my fingers. I’d picked up a lot of nervous ticks over the last year, and getting rid of them seemed to be harder than acquiring them.

“Of course, follow me. Would you like me to wash your clothes for you too? I think I have a shirt you can sleep in.”

Tears pricked my eyes once more as I followed her to the bathroom, She handed me a stack of fluffy white towels, then left me with a smile.

The tub was wide and deep enough to soak in. I set the towels on the counter and turned on the water. I quickly undressed and stepped in. A low moan escaped as the hot water blasted my skin. Nothing, I was sure, had ever felt so good.

I stood there, enjoying the feel of the water beating away the last two weeks. It was cleansing. I remembered something my Boppie had said, something about being washed by the water of Christ. Well, if that felt half as good as this I couldn’t blame them.

The water chilled and I reluctantly stepped out. Wrapping the towel around me I simply stood and relished being clean. Rosalie had brought me a shirt and a package of underwear. I didn’t even think, just tore into the package and slipped on a pair. I pulled the shirt over my head. Searching the drawers I found a brush and began to untangle my hair. Mindlessly I pulled the brush through my hair, staring at the mirror, watching the condensation dissipate.

My hand stopped mid-motion when I focused on my reflection. I was a mere shadow of myself. My shoulders protruded sharply from my skin, my cheeks were gaunt and my eyes hollow. My skin was pale and my hair was lank and listless. How could it have happened so fast?

But had it really happened so fast? I’d only been homeless and starving for two weeks, but I’d been slowly killing myself for months before that. I dropped the towel into the bin and made my way back to the room that was to be mine.

A muffled laugh and murmured conversation sounded from behind Kandace’s door. A smile crept to my lips at the normality of it all. For tonight I would get to sleep safely and comfortably.

With a giddy little laugh I climbed into bed and pulled up the covers. They had a light, summery scent to them, and I snuggled down deeper, breathing deeply.

I drifted off to sleep with the sun coming up, warm blankets surrounding me, and a roof over my head.