by Black, T. E.
We pull up to the hotel, and I hop out, handing my keys to valet guy. I go around the passenger side to open the door for Jessica and help her step out of my truck. As we walk to the receptionist desk, I take Jessica's tiny hand, hoping no one catches on to what we're really doing here. In my mind, if we act like a couple, maybe no one will be suspicious.
As soon as my hand touches Jessica, I feel her flinch. What the fuck? Although I want to question her right now, I lead us to the desk, plastering a smile on my face and giving her a nudge so she does the same. I'm sure Tony set up a room under some fake name for us, but I don't want that. I don't want Jessica to look like something she's not. You can usually tell when a woman is a whore, and Jessica isn’t. She hasn't even tried to touch me. She's fucking terrified, and not to mention, once again she's barely wearing any clothing. It looks bad already. I wrap my arm around Jessica as we pretend to be a happy couple looking for some alone time.
"Hello. Room for two, please. We'll be checking out in the morning," I say, seeming smitten with my fake girlfriend.
The receptionist eyes us worriedly before Jessica chimes in. She releases a tiny giggle, wrapping her other arm around my midsection.
"My mother is babysitting tonight. So Mommy and Daddy get a night without the kids."
Hook, line, and sinker.
She bites like a fish that’s starving.
The dark-haired receptionist smiles at us with adoration, and she books us a room for two. As she hands us a key card, she looks at Jessica, smiling genuinely at her.
"Everyone deserves a night to be someone else, sweetie. God is your only judge."
Fuck.
I glance over at Jessica, who’s obviously trying not to cry. The receptionist just told her she looks like a hooker. Motherfucker. I guess I'm going to be doing some damage control.
I pull her away, stepping us into the elevator as the door closes. You could cut the tension with a knife, and Jessica is the one to finally break it. She throws herself at me so quickly that I have no time to block her. My back slams into the elevator and her mouth latches on mine. This is the first time I've been attacked by a woman and was afraid to touch her. I know it’s wrong. This isn’t what either of us wants. So, for once in my life, I have a fucking conscience.
"Jessica, stop. It's okay. Ya don't have to do this," I say breaking away from her.
She stares at me wide- eyed, backing away from me as if I'm diseased.
Fuck.
"You don't want me?" she stammers.
I run my hand through my hair, blowing out a deep breath as I look at the ceiling. The elevator dings, and the doors open.
"Come on. Let's go talk in the room."
Jessica follows, and we walk the hall until we reach room 508. I open the door, holding it so Jessica can walk in before I do. I don't want her to be nervous. I don't want anything from her. I place the key card on the end table and see a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket with two crystal glasses beside it. I can't help my laugh at the irony of it. Here we were trying to act like this honeymooning couple, the receptionist catches our lie, yet here sits a drink that married couples would drink.
I see a card sitting against the glasses, and I let myself read it.
Best Wishes to the Newlyweds.
I lose it. I laugh for what feels like the first time in my life.
The receptionist booked us a honeymoon suite.
"What are you laughing at?" Jessica asks, eyeing me cautiously.
I toss the card toward her in a joking manner, and as she reads it, I see a smile grace her face.
"I thought God was my only judge?" she quirks.
I walk around, sitting on the plush couch beside her and extend my hand.
"Whaddya say we introduce ourselves formerly? Meeting at ya work then getting sent away together isn't exactly the way to start a friendship."
She smiles a beautiful, white smile, placing her hand in mine.
"I'm Jessica Leery. Twenty-two years old. Lost soul searching for happiness on a stage."
I frown at the last part of her introduction, separating her grip from mine. I'm not one to feel sorry for someone, but I think losing my mother has made me soft. I can't help but want to save this girl. I don't want anything from her. I don't want to be with her. I don't want to fuck her. I just want to help her.
"I'm Trent Wallace. I'm thirty years old, and I own a tattoo shop called Etched, which happens to be a receptionist short. We specialize in giving lost souls a place to call home. Ya think Tony would be pissed if I stole his employee?" I joke, somewhat serious.
"You’d do that?" she questions me in awe.
I nod my head, giving her a serious look. I’m a businessman, and I know this girl could have potential. She's never going to be Shay, but I don't want another Shay. I already had one, and I’ll get her back one day.
"I would, but ya will be nothing more than my employee. I hope ya understand I already made the mistake of becoming involved once before, which is why I'm a receptionist short. I'm offering ya a job, no strings attached. You'll get paid every Friday, and if ya know how to use a computer and file shit, you'll be a good fit."
She gives me a shy smile, covering her body with her arms for the first time since she's been in the room.
"Can I wear clothes there?" she jokes.
I belt out a laugh, reaching over to remove my shirt and throw it in her direction.
"Yeah, and start now. I have an extra shirt in my truck I can wear."
"Thank you," she whispers, pulling me into a hug.
I keep my hands above her waist, feeling a wave of satisfaction course through my body.
One wrong righted, only a million more to go.
A Camp Colonia – “Love Has Left The Room”
"MOMMY, WHEN IS Daddy coming home? I want to give him a hug."
I fight back tears, wrapping my arms tightly around her little body. Nothing kills me more than when she asks where Trent is. I don't have the heart to tell her he isn't coming back. I just can't do it. I can't break her heart too.
"I'm not sure, sweetie. Just keep drawing him pictures so when he gets home, you can give them all to him."
She nods her head against me, sniffling her little nose.
"Okay, Mommy."
I wrap my arms around my little girl a little tighter, and her breathing evens out. I play with her hair, my mind racing with worry. Tonight will be my last shift at Bare. I decided I can't do it anymore. Losing Trent has opened my eyes to how much time I've missed with Abby. I won't do it anymore. She’s my daughter, and I want to see every second that I can of her growing up. We can always find a new place to live. We can never find another love like ours.
I planned it all out last night. I'll work my shift tonight, then tomorrow I'll call Tony to explain I'm quitting. He has no hold on me anymore. Trent and I aren't together, and if Tony decides to tell him what I did for a living, then so be it. I'm done trying to please everyone. I will stand proud. I did what I had to do for my daughter. I did what I had to do to survive. Now that Bruce is actually paying child support, it will be enough to get us by until I can find another job.
Before I know it, Abby is sleeping on top of me, and I join her. I'm mentally and physically exhausted. I close my eyes letting my mind drift to a place where worries don't exist. A place where happiness is the only thing around for miles.
I’M SORRY, SHAY. I never meant for this to happen.
I suck in a breath at his apology. It almost hurts me to read it. How can we apologize for all the bad shit we've done to each other when we did those things all on purpose? None of it was an accident. We were spiting each other. I text him back before I head into work for the night.
Me too, Trent.
Blowing out a deep breath, I convince myself to stop this. I can't cry over Trent anymore. If things are supposed to work out for us, they will. It's not something we can fix overnight, but it's something we can work on if we want to. Tonight isn’t the night to
talk to him, though. Tonight is the night to fix what I do have control over. Tonight, I clear my conscience of the thing that's guilted me the most. I only have to get through one more night.
I wipe at my eyes, heading into the club, where I make my way to the dressing room. As I open the door, I look around seeing it empty except for Jessica, who’s fixing her makeup at the standup vanity positioned against the wall. She turns to look at me and smiles widely. I'm not used to seeing a smile on her face. I only saw her smile when she was first hired. Once Tony took over, the poor girl has been miserable.
Setting down my bag, I walk toward her giving her a smile myself.
"What's that smile for?" I ask cocking my brow.
Her grin grows wider, and it's almost contagious how happy she is tonight. "I'm quitting!"
I stare in shock, but I can't say I'm not happy for her. She isn't cut out for a world like this. She isn't cut out to work here. Jessica is a good person who has morals, and morals aren't something desired in this business. I immediately extend a hug to her as she jumps into it.
"I'm so happy for you, Jess. Did you get another job?"
She nods her head, pulling back to look at me excitedly.
"I did, and all I have to do is be a receptionist, Shay! Can you believe it? I met this guy last night that Tony made me go with, and he just offered me a job. I couldn't even believe it!" she squeals.
I hug her tightly again, whispering while I speak. "That's great, Jess. Do you like this guy who offered you the job? Is he nice? Did you sleep with him?"
She lets out a small laugh, her voice traveling through the quiet room.
"Yes. Yes. No. Shay, he's so handsome. I wish you could meet him! He told me we can't sleep together because I'll be his employee, but I really like him. He didn't even make a move on me last night. He seems like a gentleman despite what he looks like."
Huh? What does this guy "look" like? I ask her because I have to know what the hell she means. Jessica has always gone for the clean-cut guys. The guys who wear suits and drive fancy cars.
Please don't let this dude be a dirtball.
"What do you mean? What's wrong with him?"
"Oh! Nothing at all! He just looks a little rough around the edges. He has tattoos and a beard. Those are two things I never thought I’d find attractive, but I do!"
I smile at her genuinely, my mind thinking back to first time I saw Trent. He was so damn handsome. I couldn't stop staring. I hope Jessica has better luck with her tattooed, bearded man than I did.
"I'm happy for you. Did you tell Tony tonight is your last night?"
She scrunches up her nose at the mention of his name, and I can't blame her. Tony has always held this job over Jess's head. Not as bad as he was doing to me, but enough to make her happiness fade every time she walked in the door.
"No. He wasn't here when I came in, but I'll just tell him later before I leave. I thought about it, and I know he's going to be pissed I'm quitting."
"Well, I'll go talk to him with you," I offer, trying to hide my own excitement.
"You don't have to do that, Shay. I can handle Tony on my own. I don't need you getting blamed when I leave."
I don't want to let my secret out, but I have no choice now. I start laughing while she stares confused.
"I'm quitting too. Tonight is my last night. I'm going to find a new job."
Jess blinks back her surprise before jumping on me and wrapping her arms around my neck excitedly.
"I'm so happy for you! This is perfect! Marco said you and I are doing a bachelor party tonight, so we can go out with a bang and tell Tony where to shove it!" She giggles.
I laugh along, only imagining what she has up her sleeve, but agree.
"Let's do this!"
"Let's do this!" she yells.
Theory of A Deadman – “Habits”
ONCE MORE FOR old times’ sake. This is the last time. I clean myself up after this. I’ll figure out a way to get my girl back. I’ll figure out a way to get my daughter back. I’ll get everything back on track.
My iPod sits next to me while connected to the wireless speaker I picked up earlier today. I never thought I'd see the day I'd actually enjoy using one of these things, but for some fucked-up reason, I've been playing the songs on repeat. It fills some kind of void knowing she chose each of these songs and put them on here. I can't help but feel like each song served a purpose. The songs go from happy to downright miserable. It's as if she knew what was coming for us, and she chose the music accordingly.
Like right now, for instance, I'm listening to a song called “Habits” by Theory of A Deadman while cutting up lines on my coffee table. It's a song about some lovesick fool who gets high while his chick’s gone doing God knows what. It's a perfect way to end my reign of terror.
As much as I'd love to stay here and savor every last speck of my blow, Mac, Evan and Gunner will be here any minute. I took Tony up on his offer to use the club for Mac's bachelor party, and when I told Mac about it, he wondered how the fuck I knew they’d filed for a marriage license. I made up some bullshit excuse where I saw it in the paper, and luckily, he believed it. I wasn't about to tell him Tony was the one who told me their good news. Mac would never forgive me if he knew I was involved with him.
I drop my credit card on the table next to the lines and get quick with snorting them up. It feels fucking good, and for a minute, I question why I even care to quit in the first place. If it weren't for Shay texting me back earlier, I'd probably have just thrown this idea out the damn window, but she did text back. She's sorry for all this shit too, and that gave me hope. Hope that maybe tomorrow will be a better day for us. Hope that she, Abby, and I can be a family again.
As I start to clean up the leftover mess, the knock on my door makes me scramble to hide the evidence. I see the bag of coke, which is still half full, and quickly shove it into the pocket of my jeans so no one finds it. I'll be damned if I get caught my last time around. The knocks on the door come again, and I take one final look around to make sure nothing’s left out which would tie me to using, and luckily, there isn't.
"I'm coming, ya fucking pussies!! Hold on!" I shout.
When I open the door, I see Mac, Evan, and Gunner all standing on my steps with smiles as wide as the Cheshire cat himself. Before I can even ask what the fuck they're all smiles about, Gunner stops, reaching his hand out to me. I didn't wanna fucking invite him since he did try to fuck my girl, but the celebration of our best friend’s wedding outweighs the problems we might have. So I let Gunner get away with it this time, and I shake his hand making a truce.
"Ya know I love her too, right?" he asks, our hands still locked.
I give him a nod, not liking what he says but agreeing with it. I know he loves Shay, but I don't give a fuck. So long as he stays away from her, we're good.
Mac laughs loudly, putting his arms around both of our shoulders while Evan just laughs.
"Good to see ya ladies got over your shit. Now, don't we have a bachelor party to head to? I'm hoping for the sake of all of your balls you didn't decide to have it at a strip club because the girls will all tear you apart."
I shake my head, laughing at Mac since I can already tell he's drunk. He's never this easygoing. I swear. I don't know how Callie puts up with his ass. He's always so damn serious, and it's nice to finally see him loosen up like old times.
"It's not a strip club, just a private one. There're no naked women, but they’re sure fine as fuck. It's a wife-approved bachelor party, believe me," I reply, ducking out of Mac's hold and walking to the car.
Everyone laughs, throwing jokes about Mac losing his touch, but they all follow along.
Death Cab For Cutie – “Transatlanticism”
I CHOSE THE music this time, and I can't help but smile to myself when “Be Together” by Major Lazer rolls through the speakers. I love this song. With my back turned to the room and Jessica standing next to me, I move my hips to the rhythm slowly and seductively. I
hear the whistles and hoots from the room of guys grow wilder. The feeling of money hitting my back makes me move much quicker. I go for the art of mystery, keeping my back turned to them. I grab the pole, sliding my body down it until I feel the stage underneath my ass. I move back up using my legs, thanking God for Jessica’s idea to take a pole dancing class. It adds some fun to the usual Go-Go dancing routine, and the men love it.
“Take it off!”
“Come on! You’re teasing us here!”
“It’s his bachelor party!”
“Turn around! Show us that amazing rack!” one of the men shouts.
I let out a small laugh to myself, spinning around to give the asshole what he wants, a clear view of my large tits. Although covered, my push up bra still gives quite the show of its own. I spin around, looking into the room, but the lights from the stage keep the room in darkness. I move myself to the music, running my hands over my body, just knowing it will drive them wild. Suddenly, the hoots and hollers cease. The room becomes quiet except for the music playing.
“GET THE FUCK OUT! EVERY FUCKING ONE OF YA!”
I look toward the voice, but I can’t see the face.
Where do I know that voice?
I know that voice.
"What the fuck are ya doing here, Shay!" he screams again as everyone shuffles out of the room.
OH, MY GOD.
Trent.
I stare at him for a moment, frozen in place before I run for the door as quickly as I can. My hands slap the door to the backroom open, and I dash through the club praying somebody intercepts Trent on the way out. This is bad. Why the hell is he here, and who the hell is he here with?