by Catori, Ava
Graham’s brow furrowed. “Why not at your home? It will be easier with your bags.”
“Bags?”
“Well, you’ll need to pack something.”
“Right.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t need a lot.” I don’t have a lot.
“Your address…”
She looked down, embarrassed. He didn’t know. She figured he’d learn it eventually. Her voice dropped lower, became softer, and in barely a whisper she said the words(.), “I stay at Elm View Trace.”
“I’m not familiar with it. Just give me an address and I’ll send my driver around. Is it an apartment complex in town, or outside?”
“It’s a motel,” she pushed out.
“A motel?”
She nodded. Her skin flushed a hot red. “Room eighteen.” Shame covered her face. She couldn’t afford more than a room.
Graham held his tongue, sensing her embarrassment. “No problem. I’ll have my driver there by eight tomorrow morning.”
Walking out of the truck stop, Graham realized there were things he didn’t know about this girl. He’d only see her face, her body, her potential as a superstar. Getting into the back of a town car, he told the driver where he wanted to go. “I want to see this motel where she lives. Elm View Trace. Do you know of it?”
“Umm, yeah. You sure you want to go over there? It’s not the best area of town. It’s a pay by the hour joint, if you know what I mean.”
“Just drive.”
Pulling up alongside the motel sign, Graham saw an L-shaped motel. The weathered white paint over cinderblocks was faded and dirty, almost a shade of grey, and the red paint on the shutters and doors was peeling. Was this what she went home to every night? This is what she called home?
Something twisted inside of Graham. She deserved better than this rat trap. If he didn’t make her famous, he’d at least write her a check that would afford her something more. He had more than enough. He’d never miss the money.
He wondered if pride would stand in her way. She didn’t seem overly proud. In fact, her actions made her appear more like a wounded bird with a broken wing. The way she looked down, the lack of eye contact, her shoulders low, the vulnerability in her eyes all spoke of some hidden shame.
Her eyes held magic. When he saw them in black and white, and again in color, there was something more in her eyes. They drew him in, pulling at him like a coiled winch yanking him closer. He got lost staring at the photos longer than he should have. There was no reason to get attached. They were lifestyles apart and not a good fit, but her soul spoke volumes in her pictures. How could he not be drawn to that?
Maybe he wanted to rescue her more than anything. No, that’s a lie. What he wanted more than anything was fame again. He’d use her for his own needs, and if he helped the girl along the way, good for him. They’d both win. The lure of A-list parties laced with the best drugs, the hottest women, the kinkiest shows, and knowing that you were one of the important people was bigger than anything else. Once he’d had a taste of it, all he wanted was to go back. That used to be his world. He was always on the list, and even threw a couple of his own parties, but once you fall from grace it’s damn near impossible to be invited back.
As Kendle packed her small backpack, the only luggage she owned, she tossed a few items of clothing into it. The thrift shops had saved her. She couldn’t afford the luxury of shopping malls and clothes with new price tags. But in second hand shops, people threw away perfectly good items and she snapped them up with her meager salary. It was hardly a full wardrobe, but it was more than she needed.
Her dreams these days consisted of a washing machine that she didn’t have to pay for. She rarely spent the quarters on the cost of the dryer, and instead hung everything from the old curtain rod in the motel bathroom. It was a tight space and easily outdated, but it served its purpose.
She should let Cree know she’d be gone. It meant having to stop on the corner. Last time she saw her sister there, Franco walked by intimidating her. He didn’t like her around ever since she left. She didn’t want Cree to worry if she came looking for her, though. She’d have to stop by.
She couldn’t afford to waste the money on a cab, so she walked most places. One day she’d get a bike to keep in her room. She didn’t trust leaving it outside – it would be stolen.
As she finally approached the corner of Fifth and Main, she scanned the street. Franco wasn’t nearby, and as she moved in she found her sister flirting with somebody waiting at a traffic light. Their window was down, and she was trying to talk him into a quickie around the corner. A fast hand job through the window and they’d both he happy, she tried to convince him. The guy waved and headed off as the light turned green.
Kendle glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, Cree.”
“Franco doesn’t like you here.”
“Right, I’m heading out in a minute. Listen, the pictures, that guy… he’s taking me in for a week, and we’re doing more stuff. I didn’t want you to worry if I didn’t stop by. I left some stuff tucked up in your space; some food, water.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
“Thanks. Be careful, okay? Make sure you can trust him.” Cree glanced up. “Franco just spotted you.”
Kendle spun around and made eye contact with him. “Right. I should go. I don’t want trouble.”
“Leaving so soon?” His voice called out to her.
“I don’t want trouble. I just had to talk to my sister.”
Franco’s eyes narrowed. “She’s working.”
“I see that,” she said, trying not to show the wobble in her voice.
He moved in closer, too close, and lowered his voice. “You don’t pay rent anymore. You don’t belong on this part of the street.”
The black car slowed to a stop as the light turned red. Lost in thought, Graham turned to look out the window. Was that Kendle? What was she doing there with that guy, standing near the hookers?
Graham pushed the button to lower his window. His jaw tensed as the man on the street brought his hand to Kendle’s shoulder, squeezing.
Jumping from the car before he could think, Graham charged. “Take your hands off of her.”
Kendle turned to see Graham rushing at them.
“Step back.” Franco’s voice rose quickly.
“Fuck that,” Graham said and plowed into the man, taking him down in a full tackle.
“Graham, no!” Kendle was horrified at what was happening.
Franco fell back onto the sidewalk, cussing and spitting blood. “You’ll pay for this.” He stood up and popped open a knife.
Terror gripped Kendle. “Graham, run!”
Graham’s driver was already out of the car and holding a gun in direct line with Franco. “Drop the knife.”
“Fuck this shit. I don’t need this nonsense.” He dropped the knife. Before walking away, he turned to Kendle. “Your sister will be the one to suffer,” he said with an evil smile.
Panic flushed through Kendle. Pins and needles playing havoc on her head and neck, poking, lighting her up, tiny bits of electricity and fear hit hard.
Graham was breathing heavy. “What was that about? Why are you here?”
Kendle couldn’t speak.
“Get in the car,” he instructed.
“I can’t, not right now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Get in the car,” he demanded. “I don’t know if that lunatic will be back.”
Kendle looked to Cree and lowered her head. This was her fault. Because of her, Cree would pay for her mistake of stopping by the corner. “Come with me.”
“Just go.” It was all she said.
Kendle’s insides screamed. She wanted Cree to come with them. How could she leave her here on the street knowing Franco would come back? There would be bruises, there would be higher rent, and it was all her fault. Kendle broke, her insides shattering. She should have never come to the corner. He’d warned her before.
&nbs
p; Graham stood, holding the door open. Cars honked and went around the black car that blocked a lane.
Kendle looked down, ashamed and embarrassed. What would she tell him? She quietly got in the car with Graham.
“What’s going on?” Graham asked.
“I can’t. Not now.” Her hands shook. Forcing them tight against her legs, she tried to stop the shivering that rocked her. Things got out of control quickly.
“He said something about your sister…”
Kendle turned away, looked out the window, and said nothing.
“Was that your sister?”
What would she say? Would he help her? Would he see her as trouble, knowing her sister was a prostitute? Would he want to know more about her past?
“I’ve got to go.” She opened the car door at the next red light and bolted into the crowded sidewalk before he could stop her. She needed to get away.
Graham watched her disappear and wondered what he’d gotten himself into. Was she some kind of street tramp? A face like that…a rising superstar, but what ugly tendrils of trouble would follow her? Maybe it was best to let her go. Closing his eyes, he drew his fingers to his temples. Why couldn’t this be easy? And why did he so desperately need the fame again when he still had half of his money? It was more than he needed. Maybe it wasn’t worth the hassle. He could learn to be happy without the accolades. Graham sighed. He knew he was lying to himself. It was the only thing that motivated him these days, climbing back on top. He’d laugh in the faces of those who threw him off the mountain when he spiraled out of control. He’d be the one they begged to make an appearance at their pitiful parties. He’d be on the A-list once again.
When the car showed up at the shady motel the following morning, nobody answered the door of room eighteen. The driver went inside to inquire. The girl who stayed there checked out the night before. She didn’t leave a forwarding address.
Chapter 8
Kendle pulled the dirty blanket around her sister. “Does it hurt?”
“I’ll be okay.”
She’d picked up two packets of Ibuprofen to help. Kendle didn’t know what to say.
Cree tried to reassure her sister. “They’re just bruises. They heal.”
Kendle desperately wanted to help her sister. She knew it was her fault that Cree was in so much pain. “We can leave. We can go somewhere else, another town. We’ve done this before.”
“It may not look like much to you, but this is my home now.” She’d grown way too attached to the overpass, her perfect hiding nook.
“Cree, we need to get help.”
“I’m not living in some creepy shelter where people will steal my things, and some no name woman looks at me like a pathetic creature. If I’m hungry, there are churches that offer free meals. If I need something, I work a little longer to make more money. It works.”
“This wasn’t the life I wanted for us. When we left, I thought…”
Cree cut her off. “It’s my life now.”
Kendle tried again. “Don’t you want…?”
“Don’t. I’m fine. Go get your pictures done. I’m not ready to leave.”
“I’m going to get Franco one day, and Dad,” Kendle promised.
“Don’t call him that. He doesn’t deserve that name anymore.”
“You’re right. When I have the courage, I’m going after him with a lawyer, the best money can buy. He’ll rot in jail, and then I’ll go after Franco for extortion and abuse.”
“Franco is the least of it. It’s part of the job. I’ll get out one day, but I’m just not ready, okay?” Her voice softened.
How did it become Cree soothing Kendle? Kendle came to help Cree.
The girls sat together quietly.
“Where are you going?” Cree asked.
“I’ll be at the same place. I just changed rooms. I’m in room twelve now. I asked the owner to cover for me if some guy in a black car shows up.”
“Smart.”
“I had nowhere else to go,” Kendle admitted. It was the cheapest option that offered hot water and a bed.
After a pause, Cree asked, “Do you ever think about Mom?”
“I try not to. I hate her for not believing me.”
“I miss her sometimes,” Cree said softly.
Kendle couldn’t believe what her sister was saying. “You don’t blame her? I’m still too angry with her.”
“Sometimes. Other times I just miss her.”
“Do you think about going back?”
Cree shook her head adamantly. “Never.”
“I should track down Graham. I was foolish to run off. I just didn’t know what to say or do.”
“He tried to help. He didn’t know the consequences.”
Kendle nodded. “I know. I shut down. He asked about you.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing, that’s when I jumped out of the car. I don’t want his pity, and yet I need his help.”
“Help yourself, Kendle. Go get your picture taken. Be a star.” Cree smiled softly. She was drifting into her own headspace. “I’m going to nap.”
Kendle nodded. “I’m going to go. I’ll check back on you later.”
“Go find him. Maybe he can help you. You need it more than I do,” she whispered before drifting off to sleep.
Was that true? Did Kendle need help more than Cree? Wasn’t this entire thing about saving her sister? Did she need help too?
Kendle swallowed her pride, what little there was left of it, and called Graham. She shoved his card back in her pocket and waited for him to answer. No answer. She left a message.
“I’m sorry I ran off. Can we still do this?”
Chapter 9
When he picked her up at the motel, he started firmly, “If you’re going to cause problems, this may not work out.”
“I won’t,” Kendle promised.
On arriving at the penthouse, he tackled the elephant in the room. “Tell me what I saw.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I won’t judge. I have my own skeletons in the closet,” Graham admitted.
Kendle took a deep breath. Her chest tightened. Forcing the air back out, she simply answered, “I was talking to my sister.”
“The hooker?”
“Don’t call her that,” she shot out.
“Sorry. What would you call her?”
“A girl trying to escape.” She glared at him, and then turned away.
His brows furrowed. “Escape from what?”
“I can’t talk about this.” She stood and paced. Her heart raced like a galloping horse.
“And the man? Is that her pimp?”
“He’s not a pimp,” Kendle explained. “He owns the street. She pays him rent.”
Graham was confused. “How is that not a pimp?”
“Just don’t, okay? You don’t understand. You can’t. You’ve never been there.”
He asked the question that was foremost in his mind. “Have you?”
The words felt like ice through her veins. She froze. “Why would you ask that?” Her nose scrunched up as her face twisted in pain. He can’t know.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”
Kendle got defensive. “Can we be done? Do you want to take pictures or not?”
Graham nodded. “I do want to take pictures.”
She started to unbutton her shirt.
“There’s no need. Keep your clothes on. I only needed to see your fluidity before. Fashion models wear clothes.”
Kendle was embarrassed she’d jumped to the conclusion. Grateful to leave her clothes on, she followed him down the long hallway.
Graham explained to her as he walked. “I’d like to have a friend of mine work with you. He’ll do your make-up and hair. I want to do some head shots, and start a portfolio. I’ll also take some shots with your face bare. You have character and rawness that I want to add.”
She watched him with those eyes. The eyes that melted him in ways
he didn’t know he could melt.
As he set up, he pointed to a screen. “You can change behind there. I left you some things to put on.”
Kendle followed his hand to where he pointed. Behind the white screen was a metal rack with a couple of things hanging. She reached out to touch a red silk dress, her fingers caressing the soft fabric. It was so delicate on her hands. She’d never owned something so glamorous.
“What should I wear?”
“Whatever speaks to you.”
Should she dare? The dress was too nice for someone like her, a greasy truck stop waitress. She pushed the hanger aside and slipped on a simple, black sheath. It was pretty, but not as luxurious.
“My god.” His jaw dropped. “You could wear a potato sack and be stunning.”
Kendle blushed. She looked away, embarrassed at his words.
“I’m serious.” He came closer. “You were meant to do this, Kendle. You’re going to be a star.”
She didn’t want fame. She just wanted money, money to get Cree out of her circumstance, money to pay a lawyer, money to find a better room to sleep in, and money to hide away and be left alone forever.
Graham moved in closer, his hand coming up toward her cheek. Kendle flinched at his touch.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he soothed.
“What do you want from me?”
He turned away. He was questioning that very same thing. He thought he wanted photos, a model, a muse, but he had an innate desire to protect her, take her in, and get lost in her vulnerable soul and eyes. It would be bliss, he was sure of it. It was ludicrous really; he was so much older, such a shame.
Graham cleared his throat and turned away. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
She didn’t mean to flinch. He’d been nothing but nice to her, and yet her wall was so damn thick that the thought of letting anybody in too close terrified her. She wasn’t ready to feel emotions yet. She’d been through enough. The few times she allowed herself feelings, they only hurt her.
As they worked together, she changed outfits again. She left the red dress for last.
A buzzer rang from down the hallway. “Oh great, my friend is here.”
He excused himself and went to greet his friend. On entering the room, a tall, thin, dark haired man entered the room. “She’s delicious.” He spoke as if she wasn’t there. Turning his attention to her, he spoke softly, “Look at that face. What a canvas.”