by Catori, Ava
Returning with a slice of pie, she slid it in front of him. A quick turn to the coffee pot, and she filled his cup.
“Give me my card for a minute. I’ll jot my cell number on it. I don’t usually give that out, but this way you can reach me anytime.”
“Listen, I’m just not interested, okay?” He was getting pushy.
“Do you realize I can make you a star? You’d be famous. You wouldn’t have to work in a dump like this.”
Kendle glared at him. “Stop trying to pick me up.” She spun around and went to check on her other customers.
He waited her out. He got refill after refill of coffee until he wore her down. “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m legit. I’m only here looking to shoot raw pictures. My equipment is in the car. I used to be a high end fashion photographer. I’m currently doing a book, but I’m looking to get back into the fashion game. You’re a natural. You’re gritty and raw. You have a bohemian look that pulls people in.”
“Bohemian?”
“Just call me. Think about it, look up my stuff, and give me a call. Otherwise, I’ll come back here for pie over and over until you cave. This is an opportunity that could skyrocket both of our careers. You’ve got something special.”
“Yeah, thanks.” She bit her tongue, holding back the sarcasm. “I appreciate your time, but it’s just not my thing.”
“Don’t you want a better life?”
They were the magic words. They were the ones that struck a chord deep within. Yeah, she did want a better life for both her and Cree. Maybe if this was the real deal, maybe she could build them a future.
“Do you have another card? I tore up the last one.”
He shook his head. “Don’t toss this one. Look me up. I’ll stop back in a few days if I don’t hear from you. I’m not pulling your leg. I think you’ve got something special.”
Kendle looked at the man. “Don’t pressure me. I’ll look you up, but don’t get up in my face.”
“That sounds fair.”
Thinking back on their meeting, it was hard to believe he’d found her there. She pictured the fake headline, “Beauty Discovered at Truck Stop,” and then smiled. What a joke. And now apparently Clarisse thought she was fat. Impossible. She’d still be happy to gain another ten pounds, and this bony lady wanted her to drop weight.
She was lost in thought as the car pulled alongside another building that had a mirrored effect, all glass and lights.
“Here we are,” he announced.
Kendle tried not to look impressed. Again, the type of building she’d never be able to afford. To hear Graham speak of it, one day she could live in a place like this, too. She’d believe it when she saw it. Her life wasn’t a bed of roses, and while the idea was nice, she was pretty sure Monday would find her back at the truck stop. Not that she was complaining, it kept her off the streets.
Stavros wasn’t half bad either. A little sweaty and greasy, but what do you expect working in the kitchen all day. Stavros was the one that hired Kendle. She came in with no experience, but he gave her a chance. He might have been crude at times, but he was still a decent human being, a hard worker, and he looked out for her.
If one of the customers got a little too grabby, Stavros would show up, all three hundred pounds of him, with a scowl and a metal spatula. “I will grill your face if you touch her again,” he’d say. It usually got the point across.
He was an older man with gray hair and a goatee, but he held his own. He wore tattoo outlines without coloring, simple drawings on his arms of anchors and pin-up girls. He didn’t talk much of his past, but they reminded her of things that sailors would get back in the day. He was past his prime, but she wasn’t sure how far past.
Kendle followed Graham into the lobby of the building. Pressing the elevator button, he tapped his foot while waiting for the doors to open. “You’ll need to remove your clothing so I can get a better look at your body. We’ll start with simple nudes, and then work with designer gowns.”
That was the point Kendle spun around. “I’m leaving. You said nothing about nudes.”
“You need to be comfortable around people dressing and undressing you. It’s part of the job.”
“No.” She turned and walked about of the building.
“You’ll be back,” he called out after her.
“Fuck you,” she said, the glass door closing behind her.
It would be damn near impossible to find a cab at this time of night. She should have asked him to take her home. Screw that. He was just like the others.
Chapter 4
Cree ached to blend into the overpass. Climbing up the sloped embankment, she bunked up in the rafter. The occasional car driving over the road above became white noise. Tugging at the rock, she moved it and pulled out the blanket she relied on to keep her warm. It was a long night, and she was more than ready for sleep. The sun didn’t keep her awake, and being tucked in the shaded road structure made for good sleeping.
Closing her eyes, she let the rumble of cars above woo her to sleep. She never slept long, maybe an hour or two at the most. The nightmares woke her more than anything. She liked it better when Kendle was sleeping here too, but Kendle had moved on.
Kendle begged her to give up the lifestyle, but out here she had her freedom. Out here he couldn’t find her. Out here she was nobody. Out here she could numb herself and forget the pain that lived deep inside. Out here she was a common hooker, and as long as she had food and a warm spot to sleep, it was enough. He’d never touch her again, and out here she was safer than she was in her own home as a child.
Nobody protected her there. Nobody knew until the night Kendle dragged her out of the house and told her it was over. She didn’t fight, didn’t ask questions, just followed like a zombie and let Kendle lead her from their home.
There was no planning, no money, and only a dirty old backpack that housed a few of Kendle’s favorite books and a couple of clean shirts. They would figure it out later. All she knew was that they had to break free. If he was going into Cree’s room, it meant that he was abusing her, too. The moment he went back to bed after seeing her in the hallway, she ran and pulled a few things into a backpack. She waited until she could hear him snoring an hour later, and then rushed to her freedom, dragging her sister along with her.
Cree startled in her sleep and jerked awake. The first time he touched her, she knew it was wrong. He threatened her, said he’d do it to her sister if she said a word. She was protecting her. She took the abuse, wanting Kendle to be safe, not knowing he told Kendle the very same thing about her. Kendle thought if she went along with it, he’d keep away from her younger sister.
When they learned they’d both gone through the same thing, they clung to one another, crying, feeling foolish, and thinking that they’d been saving the other all along. Lies, all lies.
An eighteen wheeler went across the overpass. They always sounded bigger, louder, like a freight train. The road vibrated above her. It was lonelier now. When Kendle was still here they were a team. Only, Kendle found something else. She came back time to time, bringing her food, checking in on her, but after a while the words starting sounding the same.
“There are other ways. I could get you a job at the truck stop. We could work together.”
She wasn’t ready to leave. It was the only way she could numb the pain. If she started to recognize herself again, regain an identity, she wasn’t sure she could handle the pain. It would shatter her core, leaving her to pick up pieces she wasn’t strong enough to pick up yet.
When Kendle showed up, Cree quietly moved over. “Is there room for one more?”
“Not going home today?”
“I don’t want to be alone.”
Cree nodded and offered her half of the dirty blanket.
Kendle accepted with a nod and leaned against her sister’s shoulder. No words were exchanged, but just being together was comforting. Each was trapped in her own mind a good deal of the time anyway.
>
Cree slept through the day, while Kendle had reverted to sleeping at night. Their schedules were set by their working hours.
Kendle wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them to her chest. Would she ever truly escape the demons that tormented her? Was this all that life would offer?
“What happened?” Cree’s voice was dry. She needed some water. Reaching back into the hollowed out space, she pulled out an old water bottle she refilled at the gas station restroom. “Drink?” She held the bottle out to her sister to share.
“Thanks.” Kendle took a sip and handed it back to her sister. “You should come and stay with me.”
“Not yet, okay?”
She’d asked plenty of times, but Cree had grown partial to this little space that became her home. It wasn’t much, but nobody bothered her here. She hid in the rafters of the overpass, up tight in the embankment where nobody could see her. If she pressed to her side, she could roll into a crevice people didn’t know existed. It made for good sleeping quarters.
Kendle nodded. She’d ask her a million more times until one day she’d agree. “He wanted to take nude photos.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do you think Dad still has the pictures?” She hated to mention him, or even to call him Dad. But it was all she could think of after Graham asked her to pose nude-- remembering her father taking the photographs.
“I don’t know.” She stared ahead.
“Do you want me to bring you some dinner tonight?”
“As long as he isn’t nearby. He’s still pissed you left. It’s not safe for you to come around too often. He tried to press me for more after you left, but I stood firm. I refused to give him another share.”
“Good for you.”
“The bruises healed pretty quickly, but I made my point. I wasn’t paying more. I couldn’t afford to clean my clothes or feed myself, otherwise.”
“Come live with me,” Kendle pleaded.
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry.” The thought of him hurting her pissed her off. Like he owned the fucking sidewalk or something…fuck him. Franco expected payment for working the street he claimed as his own. If you didn’t pay, it got ugly. He called it sidewalk rent, the bastard.
Most girls paid it or moved on to another area. If you paid it, you got the privilege of standing on a busy corner, instead of some side road that got less traffic. The cops cruised by often, but Franco paid them off to leave the girls alone.
It was hard to see Cree choosing to stay. She’d spiraled into a deep depression and had no interest in getting out. The life she’d once known stayed buried in the past, and in the present she could function day to day, with nothing to think about other than food, sleep, and making enough to cover her street rent. That seemed easier than what she’d gone through at home… her father climbing on her, doing things a father shouldn’t do.
“Stavros said you could work for him a few mornings a week to start out.”
Cree stared ahead. Her lack of response didn’t surprise Kendle. She was lost a good deal of the time.
“They were just pictures,” she relented. “I shouldn’t have run. I overreacted. Graham is right. If I’m going to do this, I have to expect certain things. I mean, I’ve done worse. It’s just that at that moment…his words…I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Do you want to?” Cree’s voice was small.
“I want a better life. It would be more money.”
“You said Stavros is good to you. Isn’t that enough?”
Kendle looked away. “I need more. I need to get you out of harm’s way.”
Cree said nothing.
“I should go. I need to clean up. Do you want to come take a shower later?”
Cree shook her head. “I’ll just go to the gas station. Their bathroom is big enough for me to clean up in.”
“Hot water?”
“What difference does it make?” She sniped at her sister, suddenly feeling inferior.
“Don’t you want more?”
“I want to forget.”
Chapter 5
Kendle fingered Graham’s card. She was a fool to walk away. He could offer her something better. So what if she had to take her clothes off? She’d done it before. He didn’t want to touch her, or maybe he did. She could more than handle herself at this point. Stavros showed her a few pointers over the last few months. He kind of took her under his wing. He was the closest thing to family she had, after her sister. She never went back home, and never contacted her family.
If he wanted a few pictures, she’d do it. He had visions of a better future for both of them. One thing she didn’t get was his desire for fame. He still had more than enough money obviously, with a limo and penthouse, but that wasn’t his crux. He wanted to be adored, wanted to be in the spotlight. When he’d talked of it, his eyes lit up. That was his freedom he was chasing, his natural high. He didn’t say it in so many words, but she recognized the lust in his eyes when he mentioned it.
Kendle would just as well be invisible if she was wealthy. Why he wanted to toss himself back in the limelight was beyond her. Maybe it was intoxication for some people, but the idea of people wanting a piece of her was daunting. And yet the money, the change in lifestyle, the ability to help her sister…it called to her.
She could afford depression or anxiety medication or maybe even therapy for her sister if she had enough money. She could give her a safe place to live. Neither of them would ever have to do something they didn’t want to, and maybe one day she’d even hire a lawyer.
The thought overwhelmed her. She couldn’t relive it through her words. The images were enough to scar her. In front of a jury, she’d have to say what he did. No lawyer, not yet, but maybe one day. He deserved to rot in hell, but jail would suffice. At some point, if she found enough strength, she’d go after him and make him pay.
Picking up the phone, her heart raced. She swallowed hard and then dialed. No answer.
“It’s Kendle. I left in haste. I’m sorry. If you’re still interested, I’m ready.”
It didn’t take long for him to return her call. “I see you’ve changed your mind. Glad to hear it. It’s the best for both of us, really. I’ll send a car to get you.”
“I can’t until after my shift. I finish at six.”
“I’ll send my car at six. You can clean up here.”
Kendle stared ahead, ice running through her veins. Whatever it takes, she reminded herself. He promised money, and the Clarisse lady seemed legitimate. Who knows, maybe it would be worth it.
Stavros stood over her shoulder. “Are you seeing that scoundrel again? If he touches you, you tell me.”
Kendle turned and looked up. “He means well. He wants me to model.”
“Smoke and mirrors. He wants more than that.”
“Why do you say that?” Kendle asked cautiously.
“How often do you hear stories about someone being plucked out of a truck stop diner? I don’t know what his number is, but I don’t trust him.” Stavros crossed his arms to emphasize his point.
“He’s sending a car for me.”
“You want me to close down and go with you? I’ll go,” he offered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this man was up to no good.
“You’re good to me, but you can’t afford to close down,” Kendle said sensibly.
“I’d do it.”
“I know you would. Thank you for that. How is Gina feeling?”
“Ah, she’s doing better, some tea with honey, some homemade soup. She’ll survive.”
“Send her my best.”
Gina and Stavros were an interesting pair. She was just over five feet tall and a total spitfire. Stavros was as wide as he was tall. She came in time to time, and her voice would carry through the entire place. They’d break into one of their many fights and you’d hear swearing, and then like nothing happened, they’d kiss and make up and she’d be on her way.
Stavros wasn’t letting this go. “You say
the word if you need help. You have my number.”
“I can take care of myself, but thank you. It’s okay. I think he means well.”
“If he touches you…” he grumbled, and went back to the kitchen.
Kendle used the rest of the day to steel her nerves. She hadn’t taken her clothes off in front of others for a few months now. Her body belonged to her again. Afraid that shedding her clothes would mean shedding control, her stomach churned and knotted. Kendle wrapped her fingers over her belly, clenching it with her hands.
When the car showed up, she had second thoughts. With merely a driver, she got in silently. He drove her to the penthouse, and then brought her to Graham.
Graham’s living room was black with chrome accents. Leather, smoked glass, and chrome dominated the space. Large windows lined the main living room, which offered rich hardwood floors. They’d been highly polished, but she doubted he did the work. The kitchen was all granite and stainless. Each wall of the unit was a different shade of beige or moss green. No strong or offensive shades of red, yellow, or purple. It was a relaxing space, yet masculine. Lines were straight and simple. Décor and artwork were interesting, yet basic.
“Do you see that woman there?” He pointed to a black and white photograph of a woman twisted beautifully, nude, covering her naughty bits. It was tastefully done. “She was my biggest star. That could be you.”
Kendle looked at Graham and cocked her head. This was real.
“Miriam Pledge, such a bland, unassuming name. You’d probably recognize her as Mia Peezo.” He smiled, almost to himself.
“Mia Peezo? Really?” Kendle moved in closer. The image didn’t show her face, just her body and smooth, jet black hair. “It’s a gorgeous shot.”
“Yes. The first time I saw her, I knew she’d be a star.” He spoke fondly, looking back at his life. “I’m looking for lightning to strike twice, my dear. You can be a star, if you trust me.”
Kendle looked at the man before her. Was he serious? She was nowhere near as special as Mia Peezo. She’d grown up knowing exactly who she was. She’d graced just about every magazine cover for as long as she could remember. She had elegance, grace, and always came across with a raw intensity – yet gorgeous.