Rock Bottom

by Canosa, Jamie

  Behind the wheel sat a pockmarked guy, not much older than me by the look of him. “Um . . . how much?”

  “H-how long?”

  “Um . . .” He shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. “Twenty minutes?”

  “Fifty bucks.”

  “Okay. Get in.”

  After signaling Marissa that I’d be gone twenty, I slid in beside him and tried not to vomit all over his floorboards. Twenty minutes. It was only twenty minutes. I could do this. Then it would be over. We pulled up outside one of those seedy motels that charge hourly rates and I glimpsed what my future held. He led the way to room 207 and used a keycard to open it.

  The place was just as bad inside as it was out. Cheap décor hung haphazardly on the peeling walls and it smelled like mildew. There were stains on the carpeting and God only knew what the bed looked like under the comforter thrown over it to make it appear ‘made’.

  “Okay . . . So, um . . .” The john obviously had no idea what he was doing. Just great, two newbies thrown together to figure this shit out.

  Without speaking to him—mostly because my throat was so tight I wasn’t sure I could—I started to remove my clothing. The faster we got this over with, the faster it would be done. I heard him fumbling around behind me as he removed his.

  When I turned around and he stopped to stare, I only felt the briefest desire to hide from his hungry eyes. Rafe had trained that right out of me, forcing me to walk around the apartment nude half the time. The fresh dose of heroin in my system didn’t hurt, either.

  “Wow. You’re . . .” He eyes met mine for the first time. “You’re beautiful.”

  No, no talking. I couldn’t deal with the talking. This wasn’t a date. We weren’t lovers. Or friends. He didn’t know me. I didn’t even know his name. And I didn’t want to. I just wanted him to get what he’d paid for and let me get out.

  With the best smile I could muster—which I doubt was much—I climbed onto the bed, opting to stay on top of the covers. It was itchy and cold against my skin. Goose bumps spouted along my body as he followed awkwardly, crawling toward me.

  ‘John’ seemed to have trouble knowing where to begin. I let him kiss me for a while, allowing the feel of his lips to take me back to another time and another place. Another set of lips. Lips that I missed so badly it felt like a hole in my chest. Shit, the drugs were wearing off again. I needed to move things along.

  All it took was a little coaxing on my part to get him going. After that, natural instinct kicked in. It didn’t take him much longer than it usually took Rafe to grunt and roll off of me.

  “Wow. That was . . . Whew. Wow.”

  He rooted through his wallet, producing a handful of bills while I pulled my clothes back on. I tucked the money into my bra, which seemed to be the only function of that slinky piece of material Rafe had provided me, and headed for the door. I’d done it. It was over.

  Unsure how else I was supposed to get there, I let my feet carry me back toward home. I was in such a daze that I honestly don’t know how I got there, but my feet sure hurt like hell when I did. I climbed into the elevator and kicked off the heels, content to walk barefoot.

  The front door was unlocked, which made the fact that Rafe had failed to ever provide me with my own key a non-issue. I let myself in, expecting an empty apartment to relax in for a while—maybe take a scorching hot shower—and came to a sudden stop at the sight of Rafe sitting beside some woman I didn’t recognize in the living room.

  Surprise registered on Rafe’s face, followed quickly by an anger I wasn’t prepared for.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “I did it.” I held up the money when he just continued to stare at me.

  “Great. Now get your ass back out there.”

  “W-what?”

  “This ain’t a one-time gig, sweetness. It’s a fucking job. Now you get your ass back on that street corner and take as many engagements as you can get until I come to collect you. Understood?”

  No. No, my brain absolutely, positively refused to understand that. I couldn’t. Not again. The heroin was definitely wearing off as my pulse skyrocketed and my hands began to tremble.

  Rafe sighed and some of the anger faded from his eyes. “Come here.”

  I crossed the room to where Rafe was sitting and, without hesitation, he jabbed the syringe—which I assume was meant for the woman next to him with the band tied around her arm—into mine instead. Relief swamped me and I released a steadying breath.

  “There’s a good girl.” He smacked my ass hard, sending my scurrying toward the door. “Now get the hell out of here and do not come back until I bring you here myself.”

  The city was amazing. So vibrant and alive. There were people everywhere, but not one of them knew or cared who I was, or what I’d done. The anonymity was liberating. Walking those streets, I could be anyone. Anyone I wanted. Anyone other than me. Until I reached the corner where Rafe had left me earlier. Then I was just me again. Just Rylie. No, not Rylie. I was Star. The wretched, detestable, soulless Star.

  Marissa was gone, as was one of the others, leaving just me and Venus or Candy—I didn’t know which—to share the corner. She watched me like a hawk, but never made any attempt to get closer or talk to me, which I was just fine with. I was maintaining a pretty wicked buzz and needed it to stay that way for as long as possible. Preferably until Rafe came back for me.

  I wandered along the crumbling brick facade, looking at old signs and reading graffiti. One line read, ‘Nowhere to go but up’. I liked the sentiment, but didn’t find it to be particularly true. There was always the option of remaining stuck exactly where you were, which seemed to be what I was. Stuck.

  Another car cruised up and I glanced at Venus/Candy. She was staring back at me with watchful eyes. I waited for her to pounce on the john, but she didn’t make a move, just continued to stare at me.

  The car horn blew, startling me, and a man stuck his balding head out the window. “You planning to work tonight, or just stand around looking pretty?”

  Not having Marissa there to feel things out for me first made me nervous. Cautiously, I approached the car, mentally reviewing the instructions she’d laid out for me.

  “Hi.”

  “You free tonight?”

  Don’t offer anything. Make them ask. “Could be. What did you have in mind?”

  “How’s half-an-hour of your time?”

  I laid out the cost of my ‘time’ and he handed me the cash up front. He didn’t lay it down anywhere, he handed it right to me. That’s a sign he isn’t a cop, right?

  A relieved breath brought with it the stench of cigars as I climbed into the car. He was older than my last john and didn’t come across nearly as desperate, but he was. They all were. Otherwise they wouldn’t be there, would they? I called my thirty minute timetable to my companion, who I doubted was even listening as we pulled away.

  ***

  “There’s a party tonight.”

  “What?”

  “A party. You know, where you eat, and drink, and mingle? I want you to come with me.”

  “Why?” Rafe hadn’t taken me out of the apartment once since we’d reached the city except to put me on that damned corner night after night.

  “Gotta show off the merchandise, don’t I? Besides, I think you’ve earned it. You’ve been doing really well the past month.”

  I was solidly entrenched in my happy place ten minutes after my afternoon dose, so I wasn’t nearly as offended by being called ‘merchandise’ as I probably should have been. And a night off sounded heavenly.

  “Okay.”

  “Get cleaned up. There’s a dress laid out on your bed and some new makeup in your bathroom. I need you looking perfect. Got it?”

  Perfect . . . Nothing short of perfection will be accepted under this roof, young lady. My father’s voice cut through my enjoyable haze as effectively as a razor blade, tearing my happy place all to shreds
.

  “Got it.”

  Standing under the hot spray of a welcome shower, I tried to focus on the positives. I was living in this beautiful apartment in the city. Rafe always supplied me with anything and everything I needed. And I was going to a party tonight. A real party.

  Excitement started to bubble up, replacing the loathing and fear of disappointment. I could do this. I could be perfect for Rafe. I would be.

  Four hours later, I was. Decked out in the most beautiful dress I’d ever laid eyes on—a floor length silver number that displayed my curves seductively and sparkled as I moved, demanding attention—and a pair of stilettos I could only pray I didn’t kill myself in, I looked amazing. Beyond amazing. By my fifth application, I had my makeup expertly applied and my hair coiffed to perfection. I hardly recognized the girl staring back at me from the full length mirror. Besides the way my ribs and spine protruded through my sickly pale skin, I almost looked like the old me.

  “Perfect,” Rafe crooned, coming up behind me to plant a kiss on my bared neck, and I melted into him. I’d done it. I hadn’t disappointed him. I hadn’t failed. “Ready to go?”

  I nodded and scooped the matching clutch from my bed. I couldn’t wait.

  ***

  This wasn’t a normal Rafe party. There was music and laughter. And, as far as I could tell, there weren’t any drugs to be seen. Definitely not a Rafe party.

  The host of this shindig was wickedly handsome. Everyone was dressed to impress, but none as impressively as him in a black tux and icy blue tie that matched his eyes. A stunning contrast to his pitch hair. He radiated a degree of confidence and command that was distracting as he strutted around the room of pretty people.

  When he made his way over to where Rafe and I were chatting with a couple of men I didn’t know, my heart stuttered. Despite that beautifully handsome exterior, something frightening lay beneath the ice in his eyes.

  “Rafe, glad you could make it. And who is this beauty on your arm tonight?”

  “Damien, excellent party. Thank you for inviting us. This is Star. Say hello, sweetness.”

  “Hello.” The word slipped between my lips, causing me to sound like some kind of damn parrot.

  Rafe glared at my stupidity, but Damien only chuckled. “You look ravishing this evening.”

  “Thank you. I love your tie. It matches your eyes.” The stupidity just kept flowing, but I couldn’t help it. Those eyes kept dragging me in. Distracting me with what lay deeper.

  He smiled wide and fingered the tie. “It does, doesn’t it? I believe my personal shopper did that on purpose. She’ll be thrilled to hear I noticed. Thank you for pointing it out to me. I think you may have just earned me some brownie points.” He lowered his voice to a mock whisper and leaned into me, flooding my senses with his crisp, citrusy scent. “Always important to have when it comes to personal shoppers if you don’t want to end up wearing a ruck sack and swearing it’s the latest fashion trend.”

  I laughed at the mental image, convinced he would look stunning even in a sack, and Damien laughed with me.

  “You better keep this lovely creature close.” He took my hand in his warm one. “Or I may just steal her away.” And planted a soft kiss on my knuckles before disappearing back into the crowd.

  Terrified at how Rafe would react to that kind of threat—idle as it may have been—I didn’t dare look at him until he took my hand and could no longer be ignored. I risked a peek from the corner of my eye and released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. He looked . . . pleased.

  “Nice job, sweetness.” Whatever this little outing was about, apparently that was it and I passed. I sighed and relaxed as much as I could in the stilettos tearing up my feet. “Why don’t you go get something to eat and I’ll grab us a couple of drinks?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Rafe disengaged and headed toward the bar at the far end of the room. A buffet was set up on the long table in the dining room. I stumbled somewhat ungracefully in that direction, hoping nobody noticed, and scanned the selection of foods. There was everything from crab puffs to mini-hotdogs, but I couldn’t find a single thing to stir my appetite.

  Snatching a small plate, I started filling it with items I hoped Rafe would eat for me. I was halfway down the line, scooping some kind of shrimp sauce from a glass bowl when a choking noise had me looking up into a painfully familiar face.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Declan looked as stunned to see me as I was to see him. “Ry?”

  This couldn’t be happening. Not him. Not here. He didn’t belong here. He was from another life. A life that had absolutely no place in the same reality as my new one. The collision struck deep and hard, and I gasped. The plate magically disappeared from my hand—probably dumped all over the buffet table—as I continued to stare at him, at a complete loss for words.

  “What are you doing here? Rylie, where have you—?”

  No way. I had to get out of there. Now. There was no way I could tell Declan where I’d been or what I’d been doing. No way, knowing full well who it would eventually get back to. I’d closed that chapter of my life. Moved on. Let it go. Or so I told myself . . . repeatedly. I couldn’t let one chance encounter tear it back open again.

  “Rylie!”

  I knew I was acting erratic as I fled the room, but I didn’t care. I had to find Rafe. He wasn’t going to like it, but I had to go. After frantically scanning the living room, I spotted him standing near the fireplace talking to an older gentleman. I pushed and shoved my way over to him, not caring what anyone thought, and tugged on his sleeve.

  “What is it?”

  “I . . .” I took a deep breath to compose myself. I had to at least try to make this as painless as possible. I’d managed to keep Rafe happy this long, I couldn’t screw that up now. I couldn’t afford to. “I’m not feeling all that well. I’d like to go if you don’t mind.”

  “You want to go home?” He looked surprised, which was understandable after my excitement all afternoon, but not angry.

  “I just . . . I’m not sure I should stay any longer.”

  “Alright, then.” Stunned was not a strong enough word to describe my reaction to his response.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. I was just speaking with a friend of mine who would very much like to take you home. I asked him to wait until tomorrow, since this is supposed to be your night off, but if you’d prefer to work . . .”

  And there it was—my life bitch slapping me in the face yet again—but what choice did I really have? Go home with Rafe’s ‘friend’ or stay at the party and be interrogated by Declan. It was no choice at all.

  “I’ll work.”

  Rafe turned back to the man he’d been speaking with and smiled. He looked refined in his pressed tux with silver hair gleaming at his temples, but he wasn’t. Underneath it all, he’d be just like all the others. Resigned to the rest of my evening, I allowed Rafe to make the introductions and pasted on my best plastic smile.

  Declan’s confused gaze followed me from across the room as my companion for the evening looped his arm through mine and led me to the exit. I kept moving forward, afraid that if I looked back even for a moment I’d give in and go running back to a life that no longer wanted me.

  ***

  “All night. Well done.” Rafe welcomed me home with a syringe full of heroin after my first full night engagement.

  I hadn’t had any since before the party the previous night and I was really hurting for it. Within minutes, my muscles relaxed, the knot in my stomach eased, and the pain that had tormented my heart since I looked into Declan’s dark blue eyes disintegrated, leaving nothing but me, my bed, and my happy place.

  “Get some rest. You’re back on the corner tonight.”

  Each day rolled into the next, broken up only by the sweet release of heroin methodically flooding my system. Each face blended into the next. Nothing stood out. Nothing changed . . . Until everything did.

  I leaned agai
nst the broken bricks, allowing the sun warmed surface to thaw my chilled body. Days were getting longer, but despite the thick heat that settled over the city, my insides still felt frozen solid. I was exhausted and the night had only just begun.

  Venus was off on a two hour engagement and Candy was sick, which left just me and Marissa. She was leaning in the window of a car whose license plate I’d already committed to memory as I waited for her to let me know how long she’d be.

  “Back in thirty,” she called, slipping into the passenger seat.

  I’d avoided working as long as possible, but I was the only one left. Come what may, I was up next. As soon as Marissa was out of sight, a rusty, white station wagon rolled up. The kind of car usually driven by desperate husbands not getting what they wanted at home. Just great.

  Forcing a smile, I strolled to the passenger side as the window lowered and leaned in—sure to show off an unmistakable view of what my mama gave me—and promptly forgot how to breathe. I could feel my lungs pleading for oxygen as I stared into his sharp silver eyes, but my brain couldn’t quite remember how to supply it.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  “Rylie?” A horrified look creased Elijah’s face and his eyes saddened, but he couldn’t mask the disgust.

  That snapped me right out of it. How dare he look at me like that? He was the one cruising for a hook-up. This was my life, my new life. If he didn’t approve, then too damn bad. I hadn’t brought it to him. He’d barged in all on his own.

  “What are ya looking for?” He wanted to see what had become of me, I’d give him the full show.

  Elijah closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the seat. “You. I’ve been looking for you.”

  That . . . was unexpected.

  “Well, you found me. Congratulations. Now I have work to do.”

  “Wait.” He stopped me before I could move to a second car that pulled up behind him. “How much?”