Relinquish(33)

Margo looks at a small alarm clock on the night stand.

“It’s late. It’s time.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jayden asks with a shrug.

“The later it is, the more subject to sin men are,” I state. I glance up to see a wide-eyed Jayden and a Margo smiling wolfishly.

“Exactly.” Margo nods approvingly. Standing to leave, she grabs my hand, pulling me back.

“My best advice to you, baby? Build a shell, protect your feelings from getting involved. It’ll save you in the long run. Then you can get a hold of what’s real and what isn’t.”

I nod, my heart suddenly pounding against my chest nervously. I can’t keep up with her ‘bad whore, good whore’ tactics.

“Drugs help,” she mutters, grabbing my hand and pushing something into my palm before walking away. I slowly undo my fist and find a very small baggy with a white powdery substance in it. Coke?

***

“You look good dirty, I must say,” Mick chimes, rubbing his chin while sizing us up in our new attire.

“Thanks,” I mutter, looking down at my red dress and gray heels. It’s a miracle I can even walk in the damn things.

“So!” Mick claps his hands. “Rarity and Margo will hit the streets, learn the ropes, and you, Fancy, will head to room 2.”

I look at Jayden, hating leaving her.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine,” she mutters, nodding.

“She’s in good hands, don’t worry,” Mick states, reclining in his chair and kicking his feet up on the desk.

I watch Margo and Jayden walk out of the office, leaving me to Mick and his men. I feel alone.

“Sex is four hundred dollars. If the trick wants anything oral, it’s one-fifty. Anything else, I’ll handle beforehand. You collect the money before delivery, and get it to me after the deed is done. Understand?” He lifts a thick eyebrow, waiting for my response. I take my gaze from the door Margo and Jayden went through and peer from under my lashes at Mick.

“Yeah,” I mutter.

“When you get a customer, I’ll send them your way. Till then, kick back, watch TV, do your nails. I don’t really give a shit,” Mick instructs. I nod and turn to leave.

“Oh, and don’t worry. I’ll have Terris stand outside your room for protection,” Mick adds, making me look over my shoulder at him.

“Who’s Terris?” I question, shaking my head in confusion.

Mick snaps his fingers, and one of the guards behind him steps forward.

“You’ll learn you’re safe with me, girl.” He shrugs, a big smile across his face.

***

Room 2 is no different than room 1. The bed has nothing but white sheets and a few pillows. A black fridge with a small TV sitting on top of it and a dresser and chair are all the furniture. The only thing different in here is there’s a bowl of condoms on the night stand.

I finger the little baggy of cocaine, my mind racing back and forth with whether I should snort it or not. I’ve never done drugs before. I’m sure it would help me get past the nerves forming in the pit of my stomach, but I don’t think I want to be so far gone I don’t know what I’m doing. Having sex with strange men, I think I should have my wits about me. I stand on shaky legs and toss it in the trash bin.

I lie on the bed, looking up at the ceiling for what seems like forever.

“My best advice to you? Build a shell, protect your feelings from getting involved. It’ll save you in the long run, at least until you get a hold of what’s real and what isn’t.”

“You get repeat customers, you get praise from Mick.”

“It’s all about acting, really. Make the trick feel like a king.”

Margo’s words replay in my mind, haunting my subconscious. I have to pull this off. I have to make the trick want me for a second time, and a third. I have to make them believe they’re everything the world thinks they aren’t.

A firm knock sounds at the door, making my heart beat with such force I feel light-headed. I inhale deeply, preparing myself for what kind of monster walks through that door.

“Com-come in,” I stutter nervously. The door clicks and opens slowly, and a man with curly brown hair, maybe in his late twenties, steps in. His jaw is sharp, forehead large. His brown eyes are friendly with a sense of sincerity as he looks me over. He’s dressed in a black suit, but nothing like the kind Landon wore. This one looks cheap. The buttons look plastic, and there’s string fraying from one of the seams.

“Wow,” he mutters, shutting the door behind him. I clear my throat and stand, looking over at the TV and seeing the music video to “Wicked Games” by The Weekend.

“You were not what I was expecting,” he mumbles, loosening his red tie.

“What were you expecting?” I laugh nervously, brushing a stray of hair behind my ear.

“Not something as gorgeous as you.” He chuckles, looking toward the wall, his cheeks turning a shade of red.

“I’m St—” he pauses, closing his eyes. “I’m Smith,” he continues. It’s fake, but whatever. It’s not like Fancy is my real name.

“I’m Fancy, and you don’t look so bad yourself. In fact, you don’t look like you need to pay for sex, so why are you here?” I ask bluntly, tilting my head to the side. I thought for sure I’d have some large guy who sits around playing video games in here asking for me to spread my legs. Definitely not the likes of Smith, who looks like a law student, or real estate agent, maybe a car salesman even.