I manage to find my bra next to the bed and get it clipped up. I walk around in a circle searching for my underwear before realizing they’re rolled up inside my jeans. A hot flush breaks over me as I remember how incredible it felt when he pulled them off me. There’s no time for this! I rush over and grab my pants, tugging my underwear free, and start sliding my clothes on.
“Hey, people are late sometimes. It’s no big deal.” Jackson tries to soothe me, but it’s no use.
I’m sure he’s right. I’m sure that, for normal people, being late isn’t the end of the world. But normal people don’t have a boss who has the power to have them deported back to a life of danger and possibly death.
“Jackson,” I snap and his mouth opens, his eyes narrowing on me, “it’s a huge deal for me. I don’t have time to get into it. Is there any way you can drive me? I need to go to Clifton Street. It’s right by the fairgrounds. You know what?” I look at his stunned, stony face and decide there’s no way he’s going to get me there in time. “Never mind, can you just call me a cab? I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” I know I don’t have any money to pay a cabbie with, but I can’t worry about that detail right now.
“Whoa, slow down, Ella. You don’t need to take a cab, I can drive you. Just chill, you’re spinning like a top. Take a breath. No job is worth this kind of stress.” He shakes his head and hops out of bed, grabbing his clothes. “Let me wake up Chloe and we can get moving.” He sounds annoyed with me, but it’s just one more thing I don’t have time to worry about right now.
“Thank you. Please hurry,” I beg him and he looks over his shoulder at me before leaving the room like he doesn’t understand what I’ve transformed into. I can’t blame him. It’s not like me to be demanding or so brusque. If he knew how much trouble I’m in right now, if he understood the anvil hanging over my head by a thread, he wouldn’t look at me like that.
But how can I ever explain that to him? I can’t tell him my status. I can’t risk it. I just need to be the bad guy right now and get my butt back to Sylvia’s. My only hope is that she passed out on the couch and I can sneak in. She’s not exactly an early riser, after the amount of ‘night caps’ she pounds back each evening. She rarely gets up before nine, so there’s a slight chance that she might not even know I didn’t meet her curfew.
Jackson goes into Chloe’s room and I can hear her cheerfully greet him as he wakes her up. “Come on, honey, I’ve got to take Ella home and then I’m gonna take you out for a super special breakfast,” he promises her.
“Ohhh! Is it pancakes?” I can hear the excitement in her voice. “I loooove pancakes.” She thuds her feet on the floor as she jumps out of bed.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” he answers. “Let’s get you changed and we’ll go, okay?”
I hate that I’m in this stupid position. I hate that I couldn’t just wake up this morning and enjoy the moment of lying next to a man so kind, yet so sexy, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever even dared to dream of. I would have loved to take Jackson up on his offer as he was kissing my shoulder softly. Now this is all just one more thing tainted by Sylvia.
Pushing back my tears, I run my hands over my hair, snaking my fingers through the long strands like a makeshift comb as I walk out of Jackson’s room and head downstairs. I slip my shoes back on and wait in the front entryway for them impatiently, knowing I look like a total asshole, but also knowing that as each moment passes my chances of getting out of this without any terrible repercussions is growing faint.
“Hey, Ella.” Chloe waves at me enthusiastically, a huge smile exposing all her teeth as she climbs down the stairs toward me.
“Good morning, beautiful.” I force the fear from my tone. I refuse to let this terrible feeling growing inside me to spill over onto this angelic child.
“Okay, let’s just grab our shoes and go.” Jackson gives me a pointed stare, making it clear that this was never part of his plan when he invited me over here.
I try not to rush out to the car, not to sigh when he helps Chloe into her seat, to keep my lips sealed and my panic under lock and key. It feels like the two of them are moving at such a sluggish pace, like I’m watching a slow motion film… in a pool… of molasses. Finally, when I feel like if it takes a single second longer I’m not going to be able to contain my screams, Jackson sits in the driver’s seat and starts the car.
“Where did you say you need to go again?” he asks through clenched teeth.
I know I’ve upset him by putting him out like this, but what else could I do? I should’ve taken a cab. Why didn’t he just let me leave that way?
“It’s a left at the intersection,” I answer feebly, staring down at my hands and wishing that somehow the universe could just swallow me whole. Wishing I hadn’t messed up the first relationship I’ve ever had with a man who only last night I gave my body to. Wishing these circumstances weren’t my own and that, for once, I had the same freedom to live and love as anyone else.
21
Jackson
I pull up to the imposing house in a swanky neighborhood full of oversized, sprawling houses. Shaking my head, I already know exactly what kind of people live here without even needing to meet them. I bet most of these mansions are filled with childless couples that don’t even know how to use all the rooms they have.
It reminds me of when I was in the military and you’d meet guys who were always trying to have a pissing contest with you. Without fail, every single time, those were the guys who quit the courses or had to leave deployments early. It’s always the small dogs that have to yap the most. The big dogs already know what they’re capable of, they don’t need to prove it to anyone.
“I’m so sorry about all of this. I hate to put you out and to rush away. I hope you’ll give me a chance to explain someday.” Ella unbuckles her seatbelt and throws herself out the door before I’ve even fully stepped on the brake. I swear she would’ve tucked and rolled out of the car door if it would shave off a few seconds.
I have no idea what’s going on with her. At the fair and last night, she was such a sweet woman. Now she’s acting like a fugitive on the run. Twitchy, paranoid, and freaking out about being late.
Maybe she is married. If she has an angry husband waiting for her in there, it might explain her erratic behavior. As if to confirm my suspicion, a man around my age, with no shirt on, walks out the front door and starts yelling at Ella.
“Daddy, who’s that?” Chloe asks, watching the drama unfold from the backseat.
“I don’t know, honey,” My heart sinks as I refuse to share my theory with my four-year-old.
I could punch Ryan in the face right now. He’s been using Tinder for a long time. He must have known I would likely meet up with some woman in this kind of situation. I grind my teeth, angry that I fell for her lies. Why did she go out of her way to tell me she was a virgin if she’s got this guy at home? Heat flashes up over my neck as I remember the way she seemed genuinely offended when I straight out asked her if she was married.
I throw the car in reverse, eager to put as much distance between myself and the woman I was opening my heart to. All of a sudden, the shaggy blond-haired man grabs Ella roughly by the arm and wrenches it up tight over her head. Tears stream down her face as she cries out in pain.
Fuck that. Married or not, I’m not going to let her go home to some kind of abusive asshole. I jam the gear back into park. “I’ll be right back. Play your caterpillar game.” I hand off my cell phone to my daughter, inviting her to get a rare amount of screen time enjoying her favorite kids game so she won’t watch what I’m about to do to this man.
“Hey, get your hands off her,” I snap, slamming the car door behind me.
“Who the fuck are you?” He squints at me. “Ella, who the hell is this guy?” he demands, shaking her arm as she yelps.
“I’m gonna be the guy who beats your ass if you don’t let go of her right now,” I promise him through gritted teeth and he immediately drops his hand
from her.
Just when I think I’ve got this whole situation summarized, the front door opens again and a woman in her late thirties or early forties steps outside, wrapping a silk robe around her tight.
“Ella, what did I tell you about missing curfew? You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the street, especially after making such a scene with poor Raymond.” She walks her fingers across the man’s back and I do a double take.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Sylvia. I can explain,” Ella manages to sputter through her tears.
Okay, so that’s not her husband. So who the hell are these people? Is this really just a couple she works for? All the anger I had toward Ella and the betrayal I thought she was putting me through comes into a narrow focus on these two assholes treating her like human garbage.
“Ella, you don’t have to put up with this, babe.” I walk closer, but she turns away from me and stares down at her feet. “No job is worth this shit.” I wave my hand at the woman and man. “Come with me. I’ll help you figure this out. Don’t apologize to them.” I hold out my hand, but she never sees it. She refuses to even look at me.
“You better get him out of here, Ella!” The woman hisses, “You’ve caused enough trouble for us.” The edge in her voice tells me there’s a threat I’m not seeing on the surface. On the surface, nothing about this is making much sense at all.
“Jackson, you need to leave,” Ella answers feebly, finally looking over her shoulder, tears slicking down over her honey skin.
“Come on, you can’t seriously work for these two. Let’s just get out of here. I’ll help you figure out another job, Ella.” I shake my head, not believing my ears.
“Just leave!” she screams and I jump at the power and terror in her tone. She turns away again, sobbing, and I frown at the ground, not understanding the hold these two have over her.
“You heard her. If you don’t get off our property, we’ll call the police.” The blond guy smiles smugly at me.
“It’s my property,” the woman corrects him. “Enough of this. Everyone get inside. I’ll deal with you later.” She flicks Ella like an annoying bug and I stand like a statue, dumbfounded by how she’s letting them treat her.
Turning on my heel, I walk back toward the car in a daze. That scream, her telling me to leave, it sounded like she was terrified. What the hell is going on here? I can’t make her come with me. I guess if this is how she chooses to live, then I need to let it go. I can’t be her knight in shining armor, especially when she doesn’t even want one.
I sit back in my car, clicking my seat belt into place, and watch the front door for a moment, half expecting to see her run out to the car. To me. But she doesn’t.
“Daddy, are you upset with Ella?” Chloe drops my phone in the seat.
I watch her big blue eyes looking for answers I don’t have in the rearview mirror.
“No, honey,” I lie. She doesn’t need to know that beneath the surface I’m a wreck. For her, I will be a rock. No matter what.
“I think you are,” she says in a sing-songy voice. “And you know what always makes me feel better when I’m upset, Daddy?”
“What’s that?” I manage to sound a little more chipper this time as I turn and smile at her.
“Ice cream!” she announces, poking her fingers in the air in a little dance. “I have a great idea. How about we get pancakes and ice cream for breakfast?” She looks very proud of herself for coming up with such a genius plan.
I can’t help but laugh at the twinkle in her eyes.
“Let’s see what we can do, Chloe.” I chuckle and start the car.
As I pull out of the driveway and head down the street, I find myself longing for the simplicity of childhood. Back when life was easy and at those rare moments when it wasn’t, ice cream was able to fix all problems. Because knowing that Ella is living like this, and the fact that there’s nothing I can do to help her, is the worst feeling in the world.
22
Ella
“Miss Sylvia,” I quietly interrupt the blaring commercial as my boss and her man sit together on the couch getting ready for their show to come back on.
She sneers at me with utter disgust. The way she would if she found a roach crawling in her sink. In this house, right now, a roach might get more respect than I do.
“What?” She frowns at me as I tug at the sleeve of my shirt awkwardly.
“I’ve scrubbed all the pots and pans and polished all the silver in your cabinet.” I run through the list of the latest chores. She’s been running me ragged for the last couple of days, trying to punish me for coming back late. I suppose it could be a lot worse. So much worse that I’ve just kept my mouth shut and done exactly what she’s told me to. “May I go to bed now?”
“Bed? This early?” She looks at her wristwatch. “Did you finish the laundry?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I nod.
“Did you wash the bathroom down?”
“I did,” I answer simply.
“And the garbage is out by the curb?”
“It is.”
Sylvia pauses, probably scanning her mind for more menial tasks and chores to pile onto me. However, her show comes back on and distracts her attention. “Fine, get to bed. You’ll be up bright and early anyway.” She flicks her wrist, dismissing me with her dangling hand.
“Thank you.” I walk away before she has a chance to change her mind. Although, if she really did change her mind, she could just wake me up and demand I start cleaning again.
Exhausted, I trudge down to my room, past all the gleaming surfaces I’ve cleaned and cleaned again in this house. Sylvia was furious with me for staying out. She shrieked at me, spat in my face, and told me that if she hadn’t known my father she would have sold me years ago. I’m not allowed to leave the yard at all anymore. She even fired me from picking up her coffee order, sending Raymond in my place to pick up the bitch special.
I went from feeling like a prisoner to truly becoming one. I can only hope that, in time, Sylvia’s anger eases off some and I’m actually allowed to go outside for more than just dragging garbage to the curb.
Sitting on the side of my bed, I feel so much older than I am. My body is tired and my joints ache. I haven’t had five minutes to sit down all day. My feet scream at me in protest, begging me to lie down and give them a break.
I’m not ready to go to sleep yet, though. I know as soon as my head hits that pillow I won’t be able to stop myself from drifting off and I’m not ready to pass out, only to be woken before the sun rises to do this all again tomorrow. I need some time to myself.
My thoughts drift to Jackson for probably the thousandth time in the last few days. Since Sylvia confiscated my phone, I’ve had no way of reactivating my profile and talking to him. It’s eating me up inside that I haven’t been able to tell him why I had to send him away. If I could just get him to hear me out, if I could explain my life, he wouldn’t be angry anymore. I hate that someone I care about so deeply will soon be a distant memory in my life.
Why can’t you talk to him? I can almost hear the thought in Julianna’s rebellious voice, whispering in my ear.
No, that’s crazy thoughts. I can’t start going down that path. As it is, I’m skating on thin ice. If I try to sneak my phone back and communicate with Jackson, I really could be facing deportation, or worse.
Who said anything about your phone? You know where he lives. Go see him. She’ll never know.
My heart skips a beat at the scandalous thought. There’s no way I could sneak out and see him… right? I mean, definitely, without question there’s no way I should. But if I did, could I get away with it? It’s not like Sylvia is going to check in on me. She knows she’s got me under her thumb right now. Tonight she’s probably just going to have too many drinks, watch her reality television, and stumble up to bed.
Would she ever even find out? I bite my lip as I consider something so stupid, yet something that my heart is begging me to do. All the rebelliousness I
never got to experience as a teenager rears its ugly head as my thoughts multiply, encouraging me to take this chance.
I’m on the ground floor, so it wouldn’t be hard to sneak out through my bedroom window. My head sweeps around and I watch my bedroom door, like I half expect Sylvia to suspect that I’m up to something and come barging in here at any moment.
She doesn’t.
I stand up, still keeping my eyes on the door, but nothing changes. Walking backward, creeping slowly, I make my way to the window, never taking my eyes off that door. However, it remains closed. Beyond it, I can still hear the television blasting in the other room. I tilt my head as I hear Raymond talking to Sylvia and they both laugh.
I face my window, my heart thumping so hard I can see my pulse in my hands as I slide the pane open and tug the screen from the opening. Gently, quietly, I push the screen under my bed, hiding it from sight.
Am I really going to do this? If my body has any intention of listening to the second-guessing in my mind, it’s not showing it. I contort my body under the window, so I’m sitting on the outside with my feet dangling toward the ground. Even though I’m not high up, it’s still a jump down to the grass. I slide the window down behind me, digging the tips of my fingers into the glass like tiny suction cups and easing it toward my butt. I leave it open enough that I can sneak back in and take a deep breath.
Thud!
To me, that noise might as well be me crashing into a giant wall of cymbals. It sounds so loud, I expect to see Raymond and Sylvia rounding the corner any second, ready and willing to destroy what’s left of my life. I freeze in place, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does. From inside, I can hear them laugh again at their show and my muscles unwind, allowing me to quickly walk away from the house.
Down the street I march, forcing myself not to run. I don’t want to draw attention to myself, but I have this wild energy begging to be released inside of me that the pure adrenaline pulsing through my veins is causing. I speed walk away from the house, keeping my eyes peeled for a taxi the entire time. Up the road I see one and flag it down, shocked when it actually waits for me.
Hot, Quick & Dirty: 12 Steamy Short Stories Page 48