Strife: Part Two (The Strife Series Book 2)

by Corgan, Sky

  I stare at the ceiling for what feels like hours, worrying over stupid things. Whether or not she's cold. What she thinks of me. If she wishes that I would have let her go back to the party.

  The bed shifts beside me, and I feel her shimmy under the covers. I sigh in relief, now a lot less concerned about whether or not being practically naked on top of the covers is uncomfortable for her.

  “Alexis,” I say her name softly, feeling a bit guilty for keeping her up.

  “Yes, Brodie.”

  “Tell me something about yourself. Anything.” I completely expect her to shut down. To my surprise, though, she speaks.

  “I didn't grow up around here. I was born and raised in northern Pennsylvania.”

  “You're a long way from home. What made you come here?”

  “It's hard to explain.”

  “You don't have to if you don't want to.” I tilt my head slightly towards her, giving her the opportunity to escape my questioning.

  She sighs, and I feel her roll over. In the darkness, I can make out her silhouette gazing up at the ceiling. “I was adopted, but I think my mom wanted a pet, not a child. Once she realized how much work was involved in having me around, she didn't want me anymore.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that.” I frown. While I may have grown up in poverty, at least I had a loving family.

  “My parents kicked me out of the house the day after I graduated from high school. They gave me seven hundred dollars, and my mother told me she never wanted to see me again, that I would be a nuisance to them no longer.

  “I took that seven hundred dollars and bought a bus ticket to California. I used some of it to sublet an apartment, and now I'm here.” Her voice sounds hollow, but I can tell that it's filled with pain.

  “Jesus," I whisper. "I had no idea.”

  “Of course, you didn't.” She turns to me, and I can faintly see her smiling. “You're a good man, Brodie Grant. Thank you for tonight. I'm sorry I wasn't better for you.”

  My heart is breaking for her. I don't know what to say or do. It makes me angry that she's apologizing, but I'm even angrier that life has dealt her such a harsh hand.

  At a loss for words, all I can come up with is, “Goodnight, Alexis.” It feels horribly underwhelming considering what she just shared with me. My mind is blown, and part of me wishes I never would have asked about the truth because I can hardly believe that anyone would be so cruel to such a sweet, beautiful girl.

  “Goodnight, Brodie.”

  PEPPER

  I lay on my side in the darkness, unable to face Brodie. Perhaps I disclosed too much, but I felt like I owed him something for all of the kindness he's shown me tonight. I've epically failed at my job of pleasing the client. Not only did we not have sex, but I couldn't fulfill the simple request of dancing for him. It makes me feel so useless.

  I rest my face on the pillow and wish that I could inhale Brodie's scent. The linens are freshly washed, though, so unless I'm right on top of him, that's not going to happen. If only he would wrap his arms around me. That's what I really want right now, to be held.

  It's been a traumatic night, and yet it hasn't all at the same time. The vast majority of the struggle has gone on inside my head. Brodie never laid a finger on me. Not in the way I secretly wanted him to, at least. And the fact that he's been mostly a gentleman just makes me desire him that much more.

  It shouldn't have been this way. He should have brought me here, undressed me, and had his way with me. I should have broken inside and realized that I could make it through this, that this life wouldn't destroy me after all. None of that happened, though. He deflected my advances, and now I feel...unattractive. Unwanted. Undesirable.

  I sigh, longing to be comforted. I've never needed to be comforted before. No. That's bullshit. Everyone wants to be comforted from time to time. I've just never had the option available to me. You'd think that I'd be used to that by now, but I'm not. Maybe I never will be.

  I pull the pillow down so that I'm half hugging it, half laying on it, then I close my eyes and listen to Brodie's breathing. I wonder who he is and why he's really here, why he came to James' beach house. I suppose it doesn't really matter. Tomorrow I'll leave and never see him again. It's just as well that he remains a stranger to me.

  ***

  The night is blessedly dreamless. More often than not, I wake up in a cold sweat thanks to my mind torturing me with some past transgression. What I told Brodie before we went to sleep was just a small sample of the horrors I've lived through. The rated G version.

  A smile creeps across my lips as I splay my fingers over the mattress. So soft. So much better than the pile of clothing on the floor that I've been sleeping on. I can't help but wonder if this is the last time I'll sleep in a bed in a while. That thought makes me not want to move, makes me want to pretend to be asleep forever.

  I can't do that to Brodie, though. He's been too kind to me, and I don't want to be more of a burden than I already have been. Begrudging at my crappy life, I force myself to rise, turning over to look at Brodie's spot. It's empty.

  I pull myself up and find my dress where I left it on the chair in the corner of the room, quickly slipping it over my head and then stepping into my heels before going to search for Brodie. He's in the bathroom, shaving with the door open and a towel wrapped around his waist. As soon as I lay my eyes on him, butterflies swirl in my stomach. If only he could be mine. That would be too close to a fairytale, though, and there are no fairytales in my life, only horror stories and dramas. Staring at him longingly isn't going to change the fact that in a short while this will all be over.

  He's on the down stroke, shaving a patch of his neck when he notices me in the mirror. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” I reply, leaning against the doorway.

  “I don't have anything in the fridge for you to eat, but if you want, you can order room service. There's a menu on the kitchen table.”

  I think about the nine dollars in my purse, wondering what it could buy me. At the Chateau Silverbridge, probably not much. It would be better if I just went home and heated up the leftover ramen from last night.

  “I'm not hungry,” I lie, keeping my eyes on the floor.

  “Nonsense. Order something, whatever you want, as much as you want, and I don't want to hear another word about it.” He doesn't even look at me as he speaks.

  Guilt floods me. He's already done so much and has gotten nothing in return. I'd feel horrible taking charity from him. Still, the thought of an actual meal, when I haven't eaten anything but noodles for days, is more than appealing. I chew my bottom lip for a moment, fighting an internal debate between pride and hunger.

  Finally, I give in to hunger, pushing myself away from the door to go to the dining room and look at the menu. It has everything on it that a person could possibly want. Eggs, fruit, pancakes, and even more sophisticated things like eggs Benedict and poached salmon. My stomach rumbles just reading through it all.

  I start to pick up the phone to call in my order but then realize that Brodie might be hungry too. Silently, I chastise myself for being so inconsiderate in my excitement to eat. At least, I caught myself before the mistake was made.

  “Do you want me to order you something?” I yell, too lazy to get up and go find him. Besides, the thought of seeing him nearly naked again does funny things to me. I'd rather not put myself in a position to fantasize about a man I'll obviously never have.

  “Eggs and bacon,” he calls back. “And fruit. And a glass of milk.”

  “Hearty,” I mutter under my breath, smirking as I dial the number and rattle off our order to the restaurant staff.

  DMITRI

  Well, I did tell her to order whatever she wanted.

  I quirk an eyebrow at the carb buffet scattered across the table. Pancakes and biscuits and hash browns and muffins. From the looks of it, she ordered almost the entire menu. I might be a bit peeved if she wasn't wearing an adorable grin while munching on a s
trawberry out of my fruit bowl. As it is, all I can do is laugh and shake my head.

  “And here I thought you were going to go easy on me.” I slide into the seat across from her.

  “You take just as long to get ready as a woman,” she teases me. “Sorry, I didn't wait for you.”

  “No worries.” I shake my head, pulling my plate in front of me.

  There's a lightness about her that wasn't there before. It's like the night's sleep has erased all of her depression and apprehension. She's vibrant and bright-eyed and dare I say it, she actually looks happy. It warms my heart and makes the money spent on breakfast entirely worth it.

  “So what are your plans for the day?” she asks as she pours a heaping mountain of syrup onto the stack of pancakes in front of her.

  “You like a little pancake with your syrup.” I nod towards the never ending torrent of syrup spilling from the small pitcher that was delivered with breakfast.

  “A girl needs her energy.” She shrugs.

  For what, I wonder. The thought makes me feel uneasy. I don't like the idea of her having to be with a different guy tonight though I know it shouldn't matter to me.

  “I have a business luncheon today,” I sigh, trying to brush negative thoughts away.

  “You don't sound very enthusiastic about it,” she says before stuffing a forkful of pancakes into her mouth.

  “I am excited about it, actually.” I shift my weight in my chair, thinking about all of the important people I'll meet today. Part of me wants to tell her more, but I know that I shouldn't. “What do you have going on today?”

  “Well, first I'm going to head to Mister Sumner's house to see if he'll give me an advance for last night. Then, if he does, I'm probably going to go shopping before returning to my apartment until it's time to work again tonight. I'm honestly not very confident that he will give me an advance, though.” She frowns.

  The thought of her facing James is less than appealing to me. I have no idea how the guy operates, but I'm willing to bet that she's right about him not being willing to give her an advance.

  I bite my tongue, wishing I didn't feel so sorry for her. Still, I find myself reaching into my back pocket to pull out my wallet and extract three hundred dollars to hand over to her. She stares at the money as if she's never seen the color green before. “Here.”

  “What's that for?”

  “It's a tip.” I gesture with the money for her to take it, getting tired of holding my arm up.

  “For what?” She recoils back into her chair.

  “For last night.” I toss the money down next to her plate of pancakes and continue eating.

  “But I didn't do anything.” She shakes her head, her brow creasing in frustration.

  “You kept me company.” I poke at my eggs, wishing she wouldn't argue with me about this.

  “Not three hundred dollars worth of company. Hell, I wasn't even worth what you paid for me.”

  “Don't say that,” I snap at her, my jaw tensing. She stares at me in shock, and I have to force myself to calm. “You're worth far more than you know. Far more than all of this.” I look around, hoping she catches my meaning.

  The happy expression she's been wearing all morning fades, and I instantly feel guilty for bringing her down. I probably should have just kept my mouth shut.

  “I just can't take the money anyway.” She pushes herself away from the table and hurriedly walks to the bathroom.

  My appetite wanes as I realize I said or did something wrong. Women are so confusing, but I don't think I've ever met one as complex as Alexis.

  PEPPER

  I hate this feeling. I hate all of the feelings I've experienced ever since my job interview with the escort service. It's like one big raging storm inside of me. Light peeks through the clouds every once in a while, like when I think of how kind Brodie has been to me, but it's just covered up with darkness again.

  I stare at myself in the mirror, not even recognizing the girl looking back at me. I haven't known who she is for a long time. Maybe I've never known. Perhaps because I've never fit in anywhere.

  My hands tremble as they clutch the bathroom counter. When Brodie offered me that money, it reminded me that I'm nothing but a whore now. Everything about me is bought. My company, my time, my body.

  Stop it, Pepper. This doesn't make you better or worse than anyone else. You're just trying to get by.

  The thought of taking the three hundred dollars is tempting. I don't want to have to go back and beg James for money. But I don't want to accept Brodie's money for something I didn't even do.

  My shoulders slump and I lean forward. For a moment, I think about splashing water on my face. Maybe it will wash off some of the dirtiness I feel inside. But I don't want to mess up what little bit of makeup I still have on.

  I need to get myself together. Brodie has been nothing but good, and he doesn't deserve our last few minutes or hours together with me sulking.

  I take in a deep breath and straighten myself, fidgeting with my curls for a few minutes and testing out my fake smile. Fake it until you make it, they say. Will I ever really make it, though? Getting to that point feels so far away.

  Knowing that I can't stall any longer, I force myself to leave the bathroom, taking long strides back to the dining room. Brodie has practically already cleared his plate. He must have been shoveling it in while I was in the bathroom, maybe because he wants to get rid of me faster. The thought makes my heart ache, but I honestly couldn't blame him. I've been absolutely horrible, not only as an escort but also as a companion. I highly doubt he's going to give any raving reviews about me.

  Oh well. This was just a test run. I'll do better with the next guy I'm with. I have to if I hope to make it in this business.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” I say shyly as I slide back into my chair, immediately taking up my fork since it looks like my time to consume everything I ordered is extremely limited. There's no way that I'll finish it all, but I'm sure as hell going to try.

  “You're welcome.” Brodie doesn't even look up at me as he speaks. He seems lost in thought, probably about how shitty I've been.

  I try not to dwell on it as I stuff food in my mouth like a chipmunk storing nuts for the winter. All grace aside, I've already fucked up enough. There's no point in trying to salvage things.

  I push the pancakes to the side and start taking small bites of everything else in front of me, wanting to at least try it all. Now that I think about it, my eyes were so much bigger than my stomach. Who knows when or if I'll get an opportunity like this again, though, so I wanted to make the most of it. This is better than any tip Brodie could have given me.

  When it feels like my stomach is about to burst, I lean back in my chair, exhaling deeply. Any sexiness I had been trying to maintain before is gone. Now, I just look like a pig.

  When I finally get the nerve to glance back up at Brodie, he's staring at me with a broad grin. I smile back, realizing what a spectacle I probably look like, and he laughs.

  “Did you get enough to eat?” His eyes scan over the leftovers on the table.

  “Mhm.” I nod contently.

  “Are you sure?” he teases me.

  “I couldn't eat another bite.” I wave my hand at him.

  “Want to take the rest of this home? There's an awful lot left.”

  “Could I?” My face brightens, and I instantly feel embarrassed at my excitement over something as trivial as leftovers.

  “I'll call someone up from the restaurant to bring some to-go boxes.” He pushes his chair away from the table.

  After he makes the call, Brodie goes to the living room to watch television until someone brings the to-go boxes up. I want to join him, but I get the feeling he's trying to put distance between us, that he doesn't want to be around me anymore.

  I sit there and daintily pick on the food until my to-go boxes arrive. Then I pack up my leftovers and head towards the door. Brodie watches me from the living room, making no attempt at m
oving.

  “Well, I'll be going now. Thanks for everything.”

  He turns off the television and stands to walk me the short distance to the door. “Do you need me to call you a taxi?”

  “No. I'll just take the bus.”

  “I don't think there's a bus stop close to here.” He shifts his weight.

  “It's alright. I don't mind walking.” I lower my gaze, feeling another bout of charity coming on.

  Surprisingly, he doesn't push the issue of getting me a cab. “Alright. Be safe out there. It was nice meeting you, Alexis.”

  “It was nice meeting you too, Brodie. I hope I'm lucky enough to get clients like you all the time.” I fake a beaming smile to show him my appreciation though the sentiment definitely isn't false. I just know better than to expect the same treatment from anyone else.

  He grunts in reply, opening the door so that I don't have to with the two boxes stacked in my hands. I duck under his arm as I leave, casting a longing backward glance at him. No, I'm certain I'll never run into another client like him. My good luck is at its end.

  ***

  I had practically forgotten that I was in the Chateau Silverbridge until I get downstairs. Somehow, the excitement I was feeling last night has faded. Perhaps it's because I know that the stars tend to only come out at night. Maybe it's because I'm emotionally drained. Whatever the reason, I don't bother exploring. I simply walk out the doors as if the place holds no wonder for me. There's no telling if I'll ever come back, but for now I just want to go to James' house and take care of business. I need that advance.

  Brodie wasn't kidding about there not being a bus stop nearby. I trod down the hill that the Chateau Silverbridge sits on and then walk another five blocks before I finally come across one. The backs of my feet ache with the blisters that have formed from my sweaty skin rubbing against the heels of my shoes. Sitting down on the bench in front of the bus stop feels like a blessing, though the morning sun is still keeping me drenched. While I may not have gotten fucked last night, at least I'll probably still look like it when I get to James' place. I wonder if I should tell him that Brodie and I didn't have sex. Probably not. Hopefully, he won't ask.