Be cool, Amanda. Amanda’s hand was surrounded by both of the woman’s hands, one on top and one on bottom. They were soft and smooth, although lined with age, and one word echoed in her mind: home.
What was happening to her? In less than 12 hours, she’d felt safe with a man and now she felt like she was home just because a perfect stranger had a soft voice, warm hands and an endearing smile. It has to be the pregnancy hormones. When her friend Brianna had ended up pregnant in 10th grade, she was always blaming her strange behavior on pregnancy hormones, which sounded legit to Amanda right about now.
“Amanda dear, it’s so nice to meet you,” the woman said, patting her hand. She was dressed in blue polyester pants and a simple white shirt that made Amanda want to tuck her head onto that soft shoulder. The woman sounded like she actually meant what she’d said.
Irritated with herself, Amanda decided to stick with her original plan, and she responded by quickly removing her hand from the woman’s grasp and looking down. She switched her shoes to dangle from her right hand to keep the woman from trying to take her hand again while she shifted her stance and gave a curt nod.
“I don’t know if you’re hungry or not, but I made you some scrambled eggs and bacon,” she said. “There might even be a pancake left if you hurry.”
It smells heavenly. She kept her response simple. “Sounds okay,” she murmured, shifting to her other foot again. She met the older woman’s gaze head on and noticed something familiar in those grey eyes.
She shook her head, bringing her free hand up to her temple and the woman carefully took her by the arm, leading her across the hall. “I’m sorry, my name is Laura and I’m being rude,” she said. “If you want to wash up, the bathroom is right here, and if your head is hurting, there’s some Tylenol in the medicine cabinet, dear. It’s completely safe for you to take.”
Safe for me to take? What does she mean? Oh my god, does she know about the baby? Amanda muttered her thanks as she closed the bathroom door firmly behind her, turning the lock and breathing a sigh of relief. “Amanda, when you’re ready, just come out and to the right and you’ll find us in the kitchen, but take your time,” Laura said on the other side of the door. “The towels are on the shelf near the bathtub and there is a spare set of clothes next to that, if you’d like to put on something fresh. I think you’re close to Melanie’s size, since her nightgown fit you so well.”
Amanda remained silent, and soon she heard Laura move off down the hall. Where in the world was she? Turning to inventory her options, Amanda saw a cozy bathroom that was stuck in the 80’s, but it had all the necessities. She held back another bout of nausea as she stripped down and looked at herself in the mirror over the double sinks.
Billy hadn’t been so careful last night, she noticed. A set of small bruises was blooming on her elbow where he’d grabbed so hard. Damn him. It was going to take some work to cover those with her lily-white skin, but it could have been worse.
Amanda didn’t dawdle in the shower; despite the fact that she wasn’t constantly watching for the roaches that usually joined her in her own shower. She dried off with a thirsty yellow towel and contemplated the clothes Laura had mentioned. A soft red t-shirt combined with a worn, but very comfortable-looking pair of jeans beckoned to her.
She sighed and started to pull her own clothes back on. Although she would’ve loved to slip into those clothes and they did look like her size, they wouldn’t support her decision to stay tough. But, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she slipped the clothes into the trash bag from the empty waste bin and tied a knot in it. Can’t leave a perfectly good set of clothes.
Apparently, Laura had thought of everything, as Amanda turned to finger comb her hair and noticed a plain brown comb and a still-packaged green toothbrush alongside a trial-sized tube of toothpaste. Gratefully, Amanda used the comb and the toothbrush, just as she had the shampoo and conditioner on the shelf in the shower.
I could get used to this. Suddenly, she had a longing for home that nearly brought on the tears again. That part of your life is over, she chided herself. This part is just temporary. Amanda steeled herself against her emotions and headed down the hall toward the delicious smell of bacon and eggs.
Chapter 6
Amanda froze just outside the kitchen door. She heard a familiar voice, but couldn’t figure out what was going on. Jackson was in there, but the conversation he was having sounded a bit strange.
“…and God, we pray for Amanda,” Jackson said. “We don’t know her whole story, but you brought her into our lives for a reason. Show us how to be you to her. Amen.”
Jackson was praying for me? Amanda couldn’t decide whether she was flattered or annoyed. She decided to pretend like she hadn’t heard the last part of the prayer. As she was wearing her heels again, there was no need to announce herself when she entered the kitchen.
The stilettos spoke for themselves on the creamy tile floor, bringing Jackson quickly to his feet. Amanda’s confusion was evident in her stare, but the other adults in the room seemed oblivious to it.
Jackson pulled out a chair for her while Laura brought a plate of eggs, bacon and yes, pancakes over from the stove. An older man that looked suspiciously like Jackson leaned against the corner of the dishwasher, a cup of coffee steaming at his elbow and the newspaper in his hand.
Laura fluttered around Amanda, obviously nervously trying to anticipate her every need and Amanda didn’t miss the look that passed between her and the other man. She lowered the trash bag to the floor beside her while Laura pretended not to notice the move.
She knew these must be his parents, there were too many similarities, and that’s when she realized why Laura’s eyes had seemed so familiar: Laura had Jackson’s eyes—or rather, the other way around.
“This is my husband, Charles, but everybody calls him Chuck,” said Laura, practically dragging Chuck over to the table for the introduction. Amanda’s distrust of men kicked in immediately and had her hesitating to take his hand, but she couldn’t find it in herself to purposely disappoint Laura.
Haven’t known the woman for 20 minutes and already she can guilt me into doing things, just like my Grandma Rosie back home. Amanda smiled slightly as to not be impolite, but the scent of the food on her plate had her attacking her meal.
She felt three pairs of eyes on her and she looked up to see the three of them holding hands and looking at her expectantly. “What?” she asked.
“Would it be okay if we prayed for your food?” asked Jackson. She shrugged, but she didn’t close the gap by joining hands with Jackson and Chuck.
Chuck’s booming voice lingered over his words of thanks, but the steam rising from a fresh cup of coffee Laura had placed at her elbow distracted Amanda. Her head snapped up when Chuck said “Amen” and she began forking the eggs in as fast as she could once again.
Laura looked at Jackson, then at Chuck. “Um, Jackson told us about your, um, well, predicament, and we just wanted you to know we would like to help you if we can,” she said gently.
“Great! Have you got about a thousand bucks?” She looked up as she felt three pairs of eyes on her. Laura’s mouth hung open, Chuck’s face was devoid of emotion and Jackson’s was drained of color.
“Well, I don’t know what you need it for, but I’m sure we could help you out some,” Laura said slowly. Inwardly, Amanda rolled her eyes.
“That’s nice, but I’m fine, really,” Amanda said, not looking up as she poured thick maple syrup over her pancakes. She drowned them like she felt she was drowning in her own life of misery and then set to work devouring the small stack.
“I have to be back on the…I mean, back to work by eight this morning,” said Amanda around a mouthful of perfectly crisped bacon. Laura and Jackson looked at each other when she said this, which had her glancing around for a clock. She noticed only a cuckoo clock near the stove, but it couldn’t be right, because that clock said it was—
“Is that clock right?” Amand
a asked, her voice heading sharply upward at the end of the question. Oh please, please, please, that cannot be right!
“The cuckoo clock?” asked Laura with concern. “Why of course, honey, it’s already almost nine o’clock, but surely you don’t work on Saturday mornings?”
“Oh no, no, no, no, no!” Panicked, she overturned her coffee as she leapt up from the table. “Oh crap, I’m sorry!” Laura was already waving her away from the mess, tut-tutting over the spill and Amanda’s sudden rush from the room.
She found the front door and burst through before remembering she had no idea where she was. Jackson appeared next to her and put a calming hand on her arm. Amanda spun toward him, ready to skin him alive, but instead she noticed the scent of his aftershave and the strength of his chest as she ran into him.
“Jack, oh my gosh, didn’t you hear Billy last night when he said I had to be back by eight this morning?” Amanda moaned and put both hands to her mouth, the unsettled feeling back in the pit of her stomach. “Billy is absolutely going to kill me, and I wish I was joking!”
“Shh, Amanda,” he said, holding her loosely in his arms. In the light of day, and with her face freshly scrubbed of all the heavy makeup, it was easy to see her youthful beauty and he wondered how she’d gotten into the lifestyle. It was obvious that although she was very attractive, she didn’t have the hardened look most hookers had. “It’s okay, I already called that Travelodge on Sunset and asked them to pass on a message that I would have you back later today.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter, he’ll still be pissed, and you aren’t the one that has to deal with it,” she said, poking him in the chest. Struggling against his light grip, Amanda easily broke free. “You have to take me back right now!”
“We’re over an hour from the city, and even farther from Vermont Avenue,” Jackson said calmly, as if she hadn’t practically rammed him with her elbow to escape.
“It doesn’t matter, I’ll call a cab with the money you are going to pay me,” said Amanda, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “You are going to pay me, right? Because if you don’t, you might as well bury me, ‘cause I’m as good as dead.” She paced back and forth, her heels setting an angry staccato rhythm on the sidewalk in front of the house.
“That’s exactly why you’re not going back,” Jackson said.
I truly am dead, thought Amanda. One thing Billy was known for was tracking his girls down. Everyone knew you didn’t go AWOL on him unless you had a death wish. Amanda sank to the ground, not caring that her skirt rode even higher on her hips and had Jackson struggling to look away.
They still hadn’t found Charity, Amanda’s former roommate, who had finally built her stash big enough to make a run for it. Rumors were that she’d met an untimely death at the hands of Billy and his tough guys, and Amanda didn’t doubt it for a second.
Jackson was down on the sidewalk beside her now, his dark jeans creased as he took a seat and tried to calm her down. He didn’t know why, but he had the irresistible urge to tuck her hair behind her ear. She shoved his hand away and snapped her head up, her blue eyes darkening.
“Who died and made you the boss of my life?” Amanda demanded. She raised her hand to slap him, but Jackson was faster, snapping his fingers around her wrist before she could connect.
“Hold on. I’m just thinking of you and your baby,” Jackson said gruffly. She went for his face again with her other hand, but found herself with his hands like bands of steel around her wrists.
“It’s not a baby, it’s just a nuisance, and with what you were going to pay me, I would finally have enough after Billy’s part to get an abortion,” Amanda spit out. “Who would pay me to turn tricks while my baby played in the playpen beside us?”
Jackson went very still, his hands still gripping her wrists. “Abortion?” The word came out in a whisper as his grey eyes drilled holes into her stomach area. His fears from a few minutes ago were confirmed. Suddenly, she was free, and she scrambled to her feet, tottering a bit while she tried to pull her tiny skirt down.
Speaking of the nuisance, if she didn’t get it taken care of soon, her favorite little skirt wouldn’t even fit her, and her lacy bras were already getting uncomfortably tight. That happened to be a bonus in her business, however, as her regulars had already been tipping her more because there was more to hold onto.
Jackson was standing as well, but he seemed to be in shock. “What’s your problem?” Amanda asked. “I’m the one who’s knocked up and broke!”
“I’m sorry, I guess I just didn’t think about the possibility that you might not want to keep the baby,” Jackson said, visibly shaken. He turned away for a bit, his face hidden from her view.
“Keep the baby?” Now it was Amanda’s turn to be shocked. “Keep it? Yeah, I can see that going over real well with Billy. ‘Hey, Billy, I know you already hate my guts, but would you mind watching little Billy for me while I hop in this car and head down to the Travelodge for a quick turn?’ I can’t believe you thought I would even have the baby, much less keep it!” Sarcasm rolled off her tongue like smoke off a fire.
“Besides, why would I want a reminder of Billy every time I look at the kid?” Amanda ranted.
“I can see how it might remind you of your current situation, but why would it—I mean a baby remind you specifically of Billy?” Jackson questioned.
“Because it’s his!” Amanda practically shouted at Jackson. For the second time in a matter of moments, Jackson wore a stunned expression.
“Are you—“ he started.
“Sure?” She sneered, finishing his question. “Yeah, I’m sure, because Billy’s the only one who doesn’t use condoms.” Amanda almost looked embarrassed as she said this, but she held her back ramrod straight, refusing to look away from his gaze.
“Listen, I’m tired, my head hurts, and I just need to get back,” Amanda said, lowering her hands to her sides in defeat. “Just give me the money for a cab and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“What about the baby, and Billy?” Jackson asked.
“I’ll take my chances,” said Amanda. “I’ve been taking care of myself for two years and besides, the white knight routine is so yesterday.”
“Amanda, I know this sounds strange, because I just met you yesterday and our careers are in separate hemispheres, but I really do want to help you,” Jackson pleaded.
“Then give me the money to get out of wherever this is and back to my job,” she said, a bit more carefully.
“Fine. Wait here,” he said, resigned. He went back inside and she could hear voices, but she couldn’t make out the words. He was back a moment later, his wallet in one hand and her small trash bag in the other.
“I’ll drive you back,” Jackson said. Amanda started to protest, but he held up one hand in warning, passing the bag to her, and when she realized how close he was to losing it, she obediently closed her mouth.
She nodded and then headed toward the car, where Jackson opened the door and waited for her to snap the seatbelt in place before rounding the car and sliding in beside her.
He opened his wallet and handed Amanda a stack of crisp money, which she quickly realized were all hundred-dollar bills. Her eyes widened, and she looked up at Jackson, who was doing his best to ignore her as he backed out of the driveway. “Jackson, you know I can’t take this, this is fifteen hundred dollars! I’m pretty sure pastors don’t make enough money for you to just be throwing it at hookers!”
“It’s fine,” Jackson shrugged. “I’ve been saving it for a rainy day. Just give it to Billy so he’ll leave you alone for today at least.” Jackson felt no need to mention the rainy day he’d been saving for was an engagement ring for Clarissa. Especially when he’d had twice that amount of money saved for six months and had yet to shop for one. He’d dissect that little tidbit later when he was alone.
Jackson was silent on the ride back into L.A., and Amanda just sat there, staring at the money now clenched in her fist.
It was like wi
nning the lottery for her to have that much money in her hands at one time. It would be more than enough for the abortion and with what she already had sewn into a hole in her mattress at home, she could even get out and move up to a different job, maybe even the escort service located a few streets away.
It’s no different from what you’re doing now. Sure it is, she argued. The pay was better, she could dress in pretty clothes instead of just trampy ones and it was much more anonymous, almost guaranteeing her no more beatings from Billy.
“Can I ask you a question?” Amanda jumped when Jackson broke the silence just a few minutes from Vermont Avenue.
“Sure,” she said, still staring at the cash. Raising her head, her eyes locked onto his gorgeous steely eyes. Her heart tripped at his nearness, which Amanda found unforgiveable. She looked away.
“Obviously I don’t know much about your profession, but I thought it was not normal for your…” he trailed off.
“Pimp?” She supplied for him, smiling slightly.
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Anyway, I thought he normally didn’t sleep with his girls. I mean, is that something that happens regularly?”
“Well,” Amanda snorted derisively, “He did tell you I’m his favorite, right? The first time it happened, I wasn’t one of his ‘girls’ yet. I was…flattered that he wanted me that way, but I didn’t know what he was leading up to until it was…” She stopped, not wanting Jackson to know all this about her for some reason.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, it’s just that it didn’t seem like the norm,” Jackson said, reaching over as if to pat her on the leg before remembering it was bare skin almost all the way up. Her skirt was riding high again, and he jerked his hand away as if he’d been burned.
Amanda couldn’t help the feline smile that moved across her face, kicking in the instincts that brought in such good tips from all her clients. After all, he was pretty yummy-looking and she could fantasize about what his body looked like under his neat attire.
Hot Pink Heels (The Street Series) Page 3